A Baby on Her Christmas List

by Louisa George

  ‘This. Is. Not. My. Birth. Plan. I want gas and air. Pethidine. Drugs.’

  ‘Roll with it, Geo. Looks like you’re going to have a special guest of honour at that party. Because this baby is coming, whether you want it to or not. I get the feeling it has your genes when it comes to independence.’

  ‘Oh. Oh. Owww.’

  ‘Let’s get you inside. It’s too dark. I don’t know how to help if I can’t see.’ Half carrying her, half walking her, he managed to get her inside and onto the lounge floor. ‘The bedroom’s too far. Okay. I’m calling back-up. This baby’s in a hurry.’

  After stabbing numbers into a phone, he rattled off information and only then did she hear the anxiety in his voice. When he turned back to her she saw him in full light. My God, he was breathtaking. But he looked concerned. No, more than that. He looked haunted. Lauren. ‘It won’t happen again, Liam. It will be fine.’

  ‘I know, I know. Everything’s okay.’

  ‘And I think I want to push—’

  * * *

  Everything was not okay.

  Liam consciously regulated his breathing, but there was nothing he could do about his pounding heart rate and his overwhelming sense of dread. There was every chance that this could go wrong. This was a prem scenario. The one nightmare he wanted to avoid. It was happening all over again.

  He tried to shake away the image of tubes and an incubator and a tiny pink thing that grew into his crying wailing sister, but had looked so quiet and so sick that it had almost broken his heart. And of the tiny coffin that had barely filled the space in the dirt.

  So, no, everything was not okay.

  He inhaled sharply and took Georgie’s hand and waited until she’d stopped screaming and screwing up her face. ‘That’s it. It’s all good. You’re doing well.’

  How many babies had he delivered? He’d lost count. Out in the field where there was little help and lots of disease, when mum and baby had less than a good chance of surviving. And he’d never panicked. Not once. But right now he’d never wanted so much for medical equipment. For back-up. For the pain in his heart to dislodge so he could think straight. For the woman and the child he loved to be okay. ‘You’re doing good. Now breathe...breathe...’

  At what point had he so hopelessly and completely fallen in love with her? Maybe right then that second as she stared up at him with such fear and love and relief in her eyes that it made his heart jolt. Or maybe when she’d told him to leave and he’d seen the same love shimmering in her face, even though she had been trying so hard to hide it from him. Maybe when he’d found her in the ER with a damaged eye. Or when she’d told him she was pregnant.

  Or even that very first day in the sluice room ten years ago when she’d taken no nonsense and told him to harden up.

  But in the last few days that thought had taken hold of him and he just couldn’t shake it off. Damn fine time to realise you loved someone, right when you had a chance of losing them. But whatever happened he had to love her now, from this minute on, and protect her and care for her. And help her. And be brave for her. ‘I can see the head, Geo. Breathe for me. Just a second. Breathe.’

  ‘I don’t hate you.’

  A smile flowered in his heart—enough to take him past the fear and into a place of calm. They’d get through this together. ‘I know. I know you don’t hate me, Geo. Concentrate on the breathing.’

  ‘Really, I’m sorry. I don’t hate you— Owwwwww.’ Then with an ear-splitting scream a slick baby slithered into his arms. The doorbell rang. Footsteps pounded into the room. Georgie cried. The baby cried. The cord was cut, a murmur of voices. A hearty chorus of congratulations!

  And, able to finally breathe again, he was left staring at this miracle. His son. All ten fingers and ten toes and a hefty set of lungs. Who was managing just fine on his own. And suddenly Liam’s heart was blown wide open with a different kind of emotion. A searing riotous joy and a feeling that life was just about to get gloriously messy.

  Then he looked at his son’s mother, who was the most red-faced, tear-stained disaster he’d ever seen. And his heart swelled some more, shifting and finding more space for love for her. And he knew in that moment that nothing would ever be the same because he’d allowed these people into his heart and that was where they were going to stay. For ever. ‘You are amazing, Georgie Taylor. He is amazing.’

  ‘It’s a boy? Yes?’

  ‘Yes. He’s doing fine. Just fine.’ He passed the baby to her to hold, watched as the tiny bundle nuzzled towards her nipple. ‘A boy, with great instincts and a particularly well-defined MacAllister package, if I do say so myself.’

  ‘One minute old and you’re assessing his genitals?’

  ‘It’s a guy thing.’ Unable to resist kissing her any longer, he lifted his head and pressed his mouth to hers. ‘I love you. I love you, but I need to explain—’

  ‘Whoa? Really? Now?’ She nodded towards the team of busy paramedics. ‘I’ve just had a baby and we have an audience, and you want to do this now?’

  ‘Yes. Now, and always. My timing is legendary, didn’t you know? I don’t care who hears it, I love you, Georgie.’

  Her eyes widened but she put a hand between them to create space. ‘It’s the hormones. You’ll grow out of it in a day or two. Then you’ll be hot-footing it back to South Sudan at the first opportunity.’

  ‘No. It’s taken me a decade to come to my senses, but I love you. I want to be with you. Nowhere else in the world has you, so I want to be here, to make you happy.’ His throat caught a little. ‘And now we have this one.’

  Those wide dark eyes brimmed with tears. ‘No. It’s because of him that you’re here. Not me. You don’t love me. You want to. Oh, how you want to. But you don’t.’

  ‘Are you for real? I’ve called in every favour I’ve ever had and flown halfway across the world. Dashed straight to you. Which part of I love you don’t you believe?’

  She bit her lip and as always her stark honesty was there in her face, in her words. ‘I’m scared, Liam. I want to believe it all. Wow, that would be such an awesome dream to have come true, really. I couldn’t think of a better thing I could have. But you don’t have to get carried away. I get that you don’t like connection.’

  She was rejecting him? He hadn’t factored that into his plan. ‘I have spent every available waking hour for the last eight months here. I have pimped your house, transformed your garden, been at your beck and call. I’ve been your friend through thick and thin. I am still your friend, Geo. That is the best part about all of this. We are friends first. Doesn’t that prove that I love you?’

  ‘I want your heart. Not your duty or your responsibility, or some friendship loyalty thing. I want your true love.’ It was there in her face and mirrored in his heart, unfettered, truthful, raw. He needed to make her believe him. She clearly took some persuading. ‘I want your true love. For me. I won’t take anything less.’

  ‘Wait. Wait right there.’ He dashed out to the car, grabbed his things and dashed back. ‘The paramedics are waiting outside, they want to take little Nugget—we need a name. Really, we need a name. Just to be checked out at the hospital. And to get your foot sorted. But I want to give you this first.’

  He dragged the cot into the lounge and placed it next to the biggest, brightest Christmas tree loaded down with the most garish baubles he’d ever seen. ‘Here. I got this.’

  Her hand went to her mouth. ‘You bought the cot from the French market? And you’ve painted it? That’s very sweet, very kind of you. He’ll love it. I love it.’

  ‘And I love you. I bought this for you back then, the day after you fell in love with it. Because you wanted it so much. Because it makes you happy. I just want to do things that make you smile. I love you. Please believe me.’

  ‘Oh, Liam.’ Georgie shuffled across the sofa, trying to avoid the pain in her nether regions, her foot, and just about everywhere on her body. But it all faded just a little bit. He loved her? Did he? She’d lis
tened out for it for so long, but he’d never used the words. She’d wanted to hear it, had waited so patiently for someone somewhere to say those three words to her. She had believed that a declaration of love could only be spoken. The deeds, though—they’d been plentiful. He’d shown her his love instead of declaring it. Every day for ten years.

  For some reason she couldn’t breathe, her lungs were filled with nothing, her throat choked with a lump of emotion. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Well, don’t, then. Don’t say a thing. Just listen. I didn’t want to fall in love because love can be damned painful. I pushed everyone away to protect myself. I didn’t want a family, I didn’t want those things you craved. But you’ve shown me how to make it work, how to take a risk. That fighting for the people you love is the most important thing of all. I love you. Because you are you. You’re funny and weird and you laugh at my jokes and your smile warms my heart every time I see it. But best of all we can get through anything—hell, we’ve stood by each other ten years already. I’m ready for another thirty, forty, eighty... You?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She wrapped him into her arms, with a slight protest from the little fella. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you too. Really. Truly.’

  ‘And if you want me to give up the aid work, I will. I’ll find something else.’

  She shook her head. ‘Enough with the crazyville talk. I know how much you need to do that work. Just maybe shorter stints? And we’ll definitely discuss it, right? You won’t just decide.’

  ‘Of course not. We’re in this together.’ And the way he was looking at her convinced Georgie that he really did mean it. He planted a kiss on her cheeks, then laughed. ‘Hey, it’s Christmas Day, you realise? We’ll have to think of something festive to call him. I’m sorry, but Nugget doesn’t cut it.’

  She looked over at the twinkling lights on the tree, at the three baubles centre stage with their names on. At the stack of DVDs and the romance novel. This was not how she’d intended spending Christmas Day, but she couldn’t think of a better way. Two guys to look after. Two guys to love her. A family. A proper family—now that had always been at the top of her Christmas wish list. ‘There’s always Noel or Gabriel...Joseph, maybe? We could call him Joe?’

  ‘Or...Rudolph? Rudi?’

  That damned music was still playing in the background. ‘Not on your life. Come here and kiss me again.’

  His nose nuzzled into her hair. ‘I can’t think of anything else when I kiss you, my mind goes to mush.’

  ‘That’s the plan, I don’t want any more suggestions like that. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to think of a name, but way too many kisses to catch up on...’

  He did as requested. When he pulled away it wasn’t as far as he usually went. She liked that. Liked the way he was intent on staying. Liked the way he loved her.

  ‘Happy Christmas, darling.’

  ‘Happy Christmas, Macadoodle-doo.’ She gave her man another kiss. Then snuggled into the baby snuffling in her arms. ‘Happy first Christmas, Nugget.’

  And many, many more to come.

  * * * * *

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  ISBN-13: 9781460344330

  A Baby on Her Christmas List

  Copyright © 2014 by Louisa George

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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