by Pratt, Lulu
Table of Contents
Copyright
Author’s Note
Baby's First Christmas
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dear Santa (Preview)
Thank you!
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Lulu Pratt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Author’s Note
Baby’s First Christmas is a full-length 79,000+ word novel. Please note it ends at 92%.
Thank you for reading this. I hope you enjoy Baby’s First Christmas.
I’ve also included a preview of my book, Dear Santa, for your enjoyment.
I would like to thank Meg and Lesli for their valuable feedback on this book.
Happy reading,
Lulu xoxo
Baby’s First Christmas
All I want for Christmas is what’s mine.
Holly’s my best friend’s little sister.
I’ve known her all my life.
She’s almost my little sister.
Except our parents hate each other.
Last year I came home from New York for Christmas and we crossed a line.
One night of drunken passion that I haven’t shaken from my head all year.
We haven’t seen or spoken since.
What better way to start my annual Christmas visit this year than to surprise her as her next massage client.
Turns out she has a surprise of her own.
A baby.
One with my eyes…
Enough with all of the secrets in our families.
I will claim Holly and my baby whatever the cost.
*** A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***
Prologue
HOLLY
ONE YEAR earlier…
Awoken by the morning sun, I glanced around the unfamiliar room with growing suspicion. Finally I recognized the awful chipped paint in my brother’s spare bedroom. Dylan had recently purchased his first home and it was desperately in need of a woman’s touch.
The memories of the night before flooded my mind as I pulled the blanket away. As I sat up, I softly groaned.
The bed was empty, but I could still see the imprint from where Jude fell asleep beside me. We had been flirting all evening after he made a last-minute decision to stay an extra night so that he could enjoy Dylan’s New Year’s Eve bash.
Initially, Jude planned to return to New York the day before, hoping to finally catch the ball drop in Times Square. I had assumed he was already on his way back to his life in the big city last night when I showed up at Dylan’s, ready to let my hair down after a busy run-up to Christmas.
Our family hotel business had been stressful over the Christmas season, and I was looking forward to a night with friends. As always, Dylan had stocked his bar with enough liquor to intoxicate all of Savannah. It was Jude who offered me a drink when I entered the kitchen.
“What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone back to New York.”
“Holly, when have you ever known me to turn down a good party?” Jude joked.
We had had an ongoing flirtatious relationship for some years that only became more dangerous with time. As children, our four-year age difference seemed like a lifetime, but as we grew into adulthood, things had continued to heat up.
We were inseparable throughout the evening, and with each drink, I relaxed more and more around Jude. First, I was simply standing very close to him or leaning against him as we stood on the porch, hearing Dylan retell an old story.
Dylan and Jude had been best friends since grade school, so every reunion included an obligatory trip down memory lane. By the time Dylan finished his story, I felt Jude’s hand on my hip. It was innocent, or maybe it wasn’t. A little later, my hand was on his knee as we sat together exchanging stories. With a heightened awareness that my feelings were being reciprocated, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before returning into the house. I could feel myself losing control of my desires.
“Are you okay?” Jude asked, following me into the empty kitchen.
With everyone else still on the porch, it was just the two of us. I could feel the electricity in the air. Looking into Jude’s blue eyes, I knew I wasn’t alone in my thoughts. The lust was evident like a hunger.
But he was my brother’s best friend.
“I don’t know that this is a good idea,” I took a step back. Although there was plenty of space between us, I felt too close, too intimate to the man who had been like a brother.
“What idea did you have in mind?” Jude asked, his voice low.
But Jude wasn’t a brother, and we weren’t children. He stepped closer, gripping my hip with his hand as he pulled me to his body. He was stronger than I anticipated, but his grip didn’t hurt. It only made me more aroused and a soft moan escaped my lips, which was all he needed.
His tongue slid past my lips as if it belonged there, and I groaned again tasting the flavor of the man I had crushed on since adolescence. Jude was commanding, backing me up until my back was flush against the refrigerator.
“Jude, we…” My words faded as he resumed our passionate kiss. I wanted to stop him, knowing anyone could barge in at any moment. It was so much to risk, but he felt amazing, gripping me while softly groaning against my tongue.
“Anyone could come in,” I said, pulling away from the kiss.
“I don’t care,” he growled, moving seamlessly to my neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hand cupped my breast.
“Ahh,” I sighed, my back arching with delight. Never had I been handled with such aggressive care. He was gentle, but greedy, unable to slow himself. I felt hot and desired, despite how wrong it was.
“Holly, I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, lifting my shirt in the middle of the kitchen before running his fingertips across my flat belly.
“Then take me,” I whispered.
Jude lifted me with ease, carrying me to the back of Dylan’s house as I giggled between his kisses.
A loud bang brought me back to the present as I looked at the closed bedroom door, wondering what would meet me on the other side.
I wondered how Dylan would react, and a pit of worry opened inside me that never quite left. He’d never want his best friend dating his little sister, but I knew there was no way to get around coming clean after hooking up at his place. After a deep breath, I gathered my clothes, smiling to myself at how difficult it was to find things after discarding them so quickly last night.
A memory of Jude tugging at my lace panties brought butterflies to my stomach when I found the shredded fabric. He was a kid with a Christmas present, too eager to unwrap the package delicately. Stuffing the destroyed and still damp panties into my back pocket, I made my way out of the bedroom.
The hallway was quiet and cold as I tiptoed to the living area. Bodies were spread all over the couch and floor of the living room, evidence of a good party. Climbing over limbs, I heard the squeak of the porch swing and made my way to the front of the house, hoping to see Jude.
“The dead have risen!” Dylan playfully announced when I stepped onto the wooden porch in bare feet.
“What time is it?” I asked, my voice groggier than normal.
Swallowing hard, I felt a slight stiffness in my jaw, and had another flashback that made me blush in front of my brother.
“If you’re gonna barf, do it in the lawn.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’ve got that look like you’re going to be sick. Here, have a donut,” Dylan reached for the pink box beside him on the swing. It was from my favorite bakery.
“Did Jude end up going back?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“I thought he did. I think he went to bed early. Man, we had a good time. I didn’t know where Jude went, but he rushed out of here early this morning, said he was late for his flight,” Dylan recounted.
I nodded, looking away with the hopes he didn’t see the disappointment on my face. I knew that Jude had made a life for himself as a big shot banker in New York, so a relationship was out of the question, but I didn’t expect him to leave in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye.
“Here, I know you want one,” Dylan offered once again, handing the pink box to me as he pressed his foot to the wooden floor, stopping the swing so I could join him.
Sitting on that porch, swinging back and forth, I decided to act like my night with Jude never happened. He had made the decision, and I was going to follow suit. Besides, it was probably for the best. Our families would never accept us dating, and long-distance relationships never worked.
Dylan wasn’t asking questions either and my brother didn’t play games like that. So our secret was safe.
I decided to be grateful I’d finally got to experience the fantasy that had dominated my thoughts for years. The fact that it was even better than I imagined was only icing on the cake.
***
The snow was beginning to melt just in time for Valentine’s Day. Since Leann and I were both single, we decided to plan a girls’ night in, which was a long-running tradition for us. I bought a bottle of rosé, baked brownies and downloaded a cheesy romantic comedy for us to watch together at her place.
Friends since high school, Leann had become as close as a sister. When the family business continued to grow and expand, I had hired her, and now we were inseparable. Like usual, we had a great night together, laughing and joking about the loser guys we had dated in the past, hoping our Prince Charmings would soon come and whisk us off our feet. Apart from that one-night stand, something I’d never done before, I’d been happily alone for more than a year.
Our late night ended on the sofa, but I was jolted awake when I felt a sudden urge to vomit. I was resting my head on the cool toilet seat when Leann walked into the bathroom, rubbing her face as her eyes slowly opened.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice hoarse from a night of laughter.
“Nooo… I think it’s the rosé,” I groaned, my stomach churning with discomfort.
“There’s no way you’re drunk. We didn’t even finish the bottle!” Leann shrugged, stepping closer before flushing the toilet and handing me a box of Kleenex.
“Maybe it’s the brownies, then,” I hypothesized as I sat up and rested against the glass shower door.
“Or maybe you’re pregnant,” Leann huffed.
I giggled, thinking of how impossible that would be. I hadn’t slept with anyone in weeks, but the memory of Jude quickly reemerged. When I looked at Leann I knew she was thinking the same thing. Leann was the only person I had told about my one night with Jude, and we both silently knew the truth.
Even before we went to the local pharmacy and bought four pregnancy tests, a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew and a bag of Cheetos, I knew I was pregnant. There was no shock when I was reading the last positive test, and no question what I would do.
My family could never know who the child’s father was, and Leann agreed to my request that she swear to never breathe a word. I was scared and slightly excited at the news. I’d always wanted to be a mother.
But I had no idea what to do about Jude. He was back in New York and likely enjoying himself. He had sent a few texts since returning, but nothing that made me think he was serious about building a future with me. He said that he was looking forward to returning to Savannah at Christmas, but he had returned every Christmas since he’d left for college.
Not wanting to impede on the life he had worked so hard to build, I thought it was best to keep my pregnancy secret from him. Having his baby was my choice and I didn’t want to ruin his life in New York.
My family was less than thrilled at my news, especially my mom. She was angry that I was unmarried and that I was determined to raise the child on my own. Dylan said he didn’t like that someone had “knocked up his little sister and left her alone with the baby,” but all that changed when my baby arrived.
Just as the first leaves began to change color, I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy who I named Christopher, who everyone called Chris. I named him after my late sister, Christina. It was a tough pregnancy with my mom worried about her daughter being a single mom and a difficult birth for me, but he was totally worth it. No one even cared about the identity of Chris’ father now that my son was there, his deep dimples bringing a smile to everyone’s face.
He had been smiling since the day he was born, lighting up the lives of all my family and healing some of the pain left by my sister’s untimely death in a car accident. Her death shattered my family. My dad withdrew into work, while my mom was angry all the time and I felt added pressure from her to succeed. Dylan, who had been a clown up ‘til then, buckled down and made something of himself.
While having a baby wasn’t what I had envisioned for my future, I was content with how things had worked out. After taking a few weeks off to be with my baby boy, I was back at the hotel in time for the Christmas rush, sharing child caring duties with my family. Much like the hotel and spa, my family worked together to care for Chris, each taking shifts when I had to go into work. We’d even set up a little area for Chris in one of the offices so, I joked, he could learn the family business on the job.
I was finally getting a routine as my new normal grew more and more familiar.
I had no idea how much my life was about to shake up, but secrets can only stay hidden for so long…
Chapter One
HOLLY
THE FOLLOWING December…
I’d just arrived at work after leaving Chris with my dad. Noticing the newly unveiled Christmas display, I made a mental note to ask one of the staff members spruce up the entrance a bit more. Deciding a bit more ribbon could do the trick, I stopped in the spa area to check on my mom before asking someone to care of it and dealing with my to-do list.
“Good morning, Mom!” I said as the bell on the spa entrance announced my arrival.
“Hey, pumpkin! How was your morning?”
At fifty-four-years old, my mother and I were often mistaken for sisters because of her youthful appearance and thin frame, and our matching dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Now that I had put on some weight with the baby, we looked even more similar.
“It was good. How many do we have today?” I asked, reaching for the appointment book. My mom was always family first, business second, but I needed to sort out my schedule as soon as possible. As a licensed massage therapist, I was literally hands on with the business.
“Just a few. Leann is with one of them right now. How was Chris this morning?” She brightened up thinking about her grandson. As her first grandchild, Chris was spoiled rotten, in want or need of nothing.
“He was fine. Dad was excited to see him. So, you’ll be able to handle these, right?” I asked, setting the appointment book on the counter before adding, “I have some things to handle at the hotel.”
“Of course your dad was happy to see Chris. I’ll text him for some pictures,” my mother responded with a smile as she reached for her cell phone, eager to get more updates on her first-born grandchild.
With a jovial shake of my head, I walked to the hallway that connected the spa to the hotel. Seeing my parents dote over Chris was heartwarming, but sometimes I wanted my mom to focus on work when we were in the office. Considering how upset my mom had been when she learned I was pregnant, her attitude had changed completely once Chris arrived and was delighted to spend time with him.
“Oh, sweetheart!” she called. “The first appointment asked for you specifically.”
“Who is it?”
“Uhh…” My mom stalled as she dug through a few papers on the desk before reading from a sheet, “A Tom Widdow.”
“Tom Widdow?” I repeated the name, trying to recall a previous reservation.