Santa Baby: a Crescent Cove Romantic Comedy Collection

by Quinn, Taryn

  Far too much, in retrospect.

  “At first, I figured it was just sex. She’s hot, right?” I didn’t wait for his confirmation. I didn’t truly care what he thought. Anyone with eyes could see Sage was freaking gorgeous. “Not just that, she’s so much fun to be with. She makes me laugh.”

  “When she isn’t trying to kill you?”

  I shrugged. “Flesh wounds mostly. We like arguing. Besides, making up is the best.”

  “You didn’t fall when you were in Vegas, did you? Hit your head?” When I didn’t respond, he just held up a hand. “Look, I know I’m not being supportive, but I feel like I missed a hundred steps. When does Oliver Hamilton fall in love with someone in a month?”

  “It isn’t just the last month. I think I’ve been falling in love with her since we met.”

  Dare grinned. “Yeah, he’s a goner, Seth. Get the morgue cart. Dude is DOA.”

  Ignoring him, I gripped my beer, letting the cold from the glass seep into my skin. The more I spoke, the hotter I was getting. It was as if figuring all this out had melted all the ice inside me and now I couldn’t shut the hell up. “Every dumb argument, every time we poked and prodded each other, every bit of snark…they were all just leading us to Vegas. That was the start of everything. It’s not even about the baby. That’s just the icing on top.”

  Seth had picked up his drink—and now started to choke. Dare thumped him on the back, but my brother continued to stare at me, eyes watering. “Baby?”

  “So, your wife did keep the secret.” I let out a low whistle. “Impressive. And here I thought marital law always came before bestie-ism.”

  “Ally knew?” He held up a finger. “Also, I’m Ally’s first best friend, not Sage.” More coughing. “Technically, that means she owes me all secrets.”

  Dare thumped Seth’s back again. “You’re gonna rupture something. Chill.”

  “You don’t get it. Oliver doesn’t do this shit. This is all Seth-level stuff.”

  I had to laugh, toasting him with my almost-empty glass before taking a drink. “Twin thing. You know it always kicks in eventually.”

  Perhaps the getting-back-my-woman part would kick in soon too.

  A guy could hope.

  Nineteen

  My week had a been a mixed bag, to say the least. So, to recap, I decided to pull an Oliver and weigh the bad with the good.

  Pro: I’d found out I was going to have a baby.

  Con: Timing el crapola.

  Pro: I’d made dinner plans with a new friend, Kelsey.

  Con: She’d suggested eating at The Spinning Wheel, a restaurant slash bar, and I could not drink.

  Pro: I’d been given my first piece of lovely jewelry by a suitor.

  Con: We’d immediately broken up afterward, without ever actually being an official couple, despite the very official child cooking inside me.

  Net result? A lot of longing looks at Kelsey’s daiquiri.

  “So, let me get this straight.” Kelsey plopped the little pink umbrella back in her half-empty drink and propped her chin on her hand. “This handsome, smart, funny man who is gainfully employed and also happens to have a large penis and the ambition to know how to use it correctly—along with his tongue and his fingers—planted a baby in you on the first try, and then had the audacity to insist you get married right away and also told you to stop working, because it was your dream to stay home with your child. Am I missing anything?”

  “I don’t know if you are, but I’m impressed how you didn’t have to stop to take a breath. That was one hella long question.” I sipped my own virgin pink drink and considered the question more fully. “I’m guessing you’re not seeing the subtextual issues.”

  “Subtextual issues? Girl, if a hot guy wanted me to put my feet up so I could churn out babies, well, I’d give it the old college try. I do have birthing hips.” She patted hers with a grin. “At least that’s what my mama used to say.”

  “Ow. Ouch.”

  “Nah, it was a compliment from her. She absolutely loved being a mother and wanted me to have the same experience. Little did she know, I drive away men as soon as I open my mouth.”

  “I’ve done my share of that too. Over and over again. I thought it was hopeless that I’d ever find someone who got me as I was and vice versa. But Oliver’s different. We know each other so well. Probably why we bicker so much.”

  “You like bickering. So, it’s good you found someone to match you.”

  “It is. Am I asking for too much? I know him, Kelsey. I know his limitations and mine, and maybe I just can’t expect more from him. This is all so new between us, and he’s trying, he really is. He gave me this necklace. Isn’t it beautiful?” I held it out for her inspection and she let out a little wistful sigh.

  “If you decide you can’t deal with his assholish behavior anymore, can I take a turn, or would that be a friendship killer?” I growled, and she laughed. “Just kidding. I don’t poach. But that’s so pretty.”

  “There’s more.” Swallowing hard, I picked up my purse and tugged out the origami animals I’d found in my mailbox. I’d pried them apart so carefully, desperate to see what he might have written inside.

  It had been days since we’d talked—okay, fought, yet again—and I missed him so much. It was insane. When had arguing with Oliver…and sleeping with him…and hearing his laughter…and holding his hand…become such a vital, integral part of my day?

  My entire life?

  “Oh,” Kelsey murmured as I carefully nudged the origami creatures across the table. “Those are—what’s it called?”

  “Origami.”

  “What are these for? You do these?” She picked up the dragon far too recklessly, and I had to bite my lip to keep from admonishing her about crinkling the paper.

  “No. He does. Oliver does, for me.”

  I swear, she melted in front of me like a bar of chocolate on a hot summer day. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. And you let this man get away?”

  “I just got those today. He gave me one before when he came into the diner for lunch. I think it was an offhanded thing he used to do and never realized that I’d fall in love with it.”

  “You’re not in love with his origami. You’re in love with him.”

  “The origami is pretty persuasive,” I said in a small voice, letting out a little screech when she bent the dragon’s wing the wrong way. “Here, let me. You have to be very careful.”

  She waited while I retrieved the dragon and the fox and opened them painstakingly, barely breathing during the process. It had taken me many attempts to do this correctly. That was why I’d only had a few minutes to get ready to meet Kelsey. I’d been too busy folding and refolding my precious animals to even break for dinner.

  Who had I become? Usually, I never let anything come between me and my meals. And I was pregnant, which added an extra layer of food savagery.

  “He writes notes inside too? Oh my. What do they say?”

  “They’re short. The flaps don’t allow much room. But in the dragon, he asked me out.”

  “Asked you out where?”

  “Nowhere in particular. Just ‘Sage Evans, will you go out with me?’” My voice stayed even, a minor feat.

  “Wait, he knocked you up, right?”

  “Indelicately speaking, yes.” I sighed and opened the fox. “But we never really went out on regular dates. We just did everything backward. I gave him a blowjob before we even had our first kiss.” Once the words were out, I covered my mouth. “Um, so about those Mets?”

  Kelsey laughed so hard I thought she’d need assistance. “It’s probably good you’re already spoken for. If we ever tried to go man slaying, the guys wouldn’t know what hit them when it came to our mouths.”

  “Do you mean verbally or vis a vis blowjobs?”

  “Definitely verbally in my case. My experience there could be held on the head on of a…�
� She snorted. “Never mind. I’m just going to shut up and get drunk.”

  I sighed heavily. “Jealous. And I barely even drink.”

  “What did the fox say? Ha ha. Oh man, I’m killing myself tonight.”

  “He told me he missed me. That was it. But not just me. He said he missed both of us.” I swallowed hard, vowing not to get misty. Not like I’d done when I’d opened that stupid fox and nearly blubbered like a baby. “He’s so going to win me over with origami turkeys, Kels. And we haven’t even had any of the big talks we need to. I’m afraid to.”

  “Did you just call me Kels?”

  I took that extra moment before answering to dash my fingers under my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Weeping in front of new acquaintances was never looked upon favorably. “Yes, I nicknamed you. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay. I love it. Your name is harder to—oh no. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” I reached for my water goblet and took one sip before swallowing a sob, then giving up the ghost entirely and bracing my streaming eyes on my folded arms. “I’m not…ready for this. I just wanted…sex. Why can’t I ever get…what I want…when I want it?” I was mumbling into my arm in between sobs and I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she could understand me.

  I also knew we probably wouldn’t be going out for dinner again anytime soon. Good thing I’d already planned on being a shut-in for the rest of my pregnancy, so I’d have enough time to consider my bad life choices and so I wouldn’t see Oliver in public ever again, ever.

  Did I say ever?

  Because that was literally the only way I could stop from throwing myself bodily at him. I already loved him. And even the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he loved me too and/or could learn to love me and the baby gave me so much hope.

  I wanted to try. I had to try.

  Awkwardly, Kelsey patted my head. “The baby has you all mixed up.”

  “No, that’s just the thing. The baby is clarifying everything for me. Sometimes people give up too easy, you know? Maybe if I wasn’t pregnant, I wouldn’t be as willing to try, but that doesn’t mean walking away is the answer.” I sniffled. “So what that we’ll have to work on this? If we want to—if we both want to—that’s all that matters.”

  “You’re so right. If I had someone to work on stuff with, I’d be very inspired right now. Alas, my jackass ex broke up with me via text.” Kelsey threw back her drink. “I briefly contemplated lesbianism. It’s still an option on the table, depending on what the dating pool looks like here in Crescent Cove.”

  I giggled through my tears. “Don’t get your hopes up. I fished in this pool forever and found—”

  “Sage? Sage Evans? Is that you?” A big dark-haired guy in jeans and a hooded parka stopped beside our table, smiling widely. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How long’s it been? Close to ten years?”

  My lungs locked, trapping my breath in my throat. No way. It wasn’t possible. Back when I’d been looking for him, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Now that my lady taco—and the rest of me—had full occupancy, here he was, looking much like he had in high school. He was a little taller, a little broader, with a short, dark beard. But there was no mistaking that twinkle in his always-laughing green eyes.

  “Moose,” I said weakly. “Yes, eight or ten. A long time. How are you? You look well.”

  “I am. So do you. Same pretty Sage.” He held open his arms. “Got a hug for Moose after all this time?”

  “Um, sure.” A hug, yes. Dating? No. Sex? Definitely not. But he was just being polite, so I would be too.

  I stood, and he grabbed me up in his big bear arms, lifting me straight off the ground with a squeal. His rumbling laughter was enough to get the whole bar’s attention, and I was pretty sure it had. Heat rushed to my cheeks and I immediately pushed at his arms for him to let me down, which he did at once. But we had already gotten everyone’s attention, including—

  Oh my God, no. It wasn’t possible. Oliver didn’t come to places like this. It was as rare as a man grinning at me as if I was the juicy cherry on top of his hot fudge…penis.

  Dammit, Moose. Of all the shitty timing.

  “Sorry about that, Sage. Didn’t mean to give you a scare. Couldn’t help giving you a squeeze.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, my gaze connecting with Oliver’s beyond Moose’s massive biceps. He wasn’t growling or anything else, just looking at me with an ultra-focused expression that belied the way the guys were crowding into his sides as if he’d had too much to drink.

  Again, was this really my Oliver? Hanging out at bars and drinking too much?

  Along with running into Moose, this was serious Twilight Zone stuff.

  “Um, this is my friend, Kels,” I said into the silence. “Kelsey. What’s your last name again, Kels?”

  “Ford.” She rose and held out a hand, evidently realizing I was in distress. “Your name is Moose? I can see why. You’re a very big boy.”

  Moose chuckled, his ruddy features flushing. “Normally, I’d say all over, but Sage is an old friend.”

  “Old friend, huh?” Kelsey gave me a look. “What kind of old friend? Sage, you okay?”

  “Yep, I’m fine.”

  Lies. All lies.

  Oliver—and Seth and some other guy who looked vaguely familiar but whom I couldn’t place—were coming ever closer, and my pulse was picking up pace with every step. I grabbed my glass of vodka cranberry, hold the vodka, and tossed the last of it back, wishing it was alcoholic with a vengeance.

  Too bad for me. Baby on board. And wasn’t that a perfect excuse to avoid a potentially awkward moment? Never mind my probably messed-up makeup from crying. I did not want Oliver to see me like this.

  “Actually, excuse me, bathroom break,” I called, fleeing from the table as fast as my short, chunky heels could carry me.

  I’d made it halfway down the hallway to the ladies’ room when footsteps sounded on the plank floor behind me.

  “Sage.”

  Had his voice always been that deep? It was as if I was in a deprivation state, and I couldn’t resist pivoting to suck down a quick, greedy glimpse of him. My heart turned over and my throat constricted, even as I backed toward the bathroom in self-preservation.

  I wanted to talk to him. Just not yet. I was so vulnerable, so…

  “Are you all right?” He was still coming toward me in slow, measured steps. “You’re pale.”

  “And you’re at a bar. Why?” He stopped and dipped his hands in his pockets. My gaze dropped to his jeans—jeans?—and I gasped. “I-I can see your thigh.”

  That made his lips quirk. “It’s a terrible look for me.”

  “No, I wouldn’t say so. Actually, you’re insanely hot.” I swallowed and thanked the heavens I’d worn a heavy wool skirt because there was definitely some…liquefying going on between my legs as he flashed me a slow grin. “Ripped jeans, a beer T-shirt, hanging out at a bar. Have you fallen in with an unsavory crowd?”

  His low laughter disarmed me enough that I almost didn’t notice he’d resumed his approach. I went still as he moved in, bracing his arm on the wall beside me. He reached out to touch my hair, trailing his fingers over the ends as if they were as delicate as satin. “You look beautiful.”

  “You’ve been drinking.” I could smell the yeast on his breath, and rather than repelling me, it drew me closer. I never knew him to let down his guard even that much.

  “You’re beautiful regardless, and don’t you ever doubt it.” He tugged on one of my curls. “Yes, I’ve been drinking. I wanted to get drunk out of my mind so I didn’t miss you anymore.”

  Oh God. Vulnerable Oliver was going to lay me out on my keister.

  “Did it work?” I asked quietly.

  He shook his head, tipping his forehead ever closer to mine. “Don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world for that.” Then his focus dropped to my throat. “You’re still wearing the necklace.”

 
“I love it.”

  “Knots are tricky things. Some come apart so easily, with just the barest pull.” He drew gently on my hair, sparking a tingle in my scalp that reverberated straight to my overeager nipples. “Others are impossible to break. Strong enough to withstand anything. Time, force, the elements. Once formed, they’re unyielding, even if now and then some of the threads unravel.”

  His words skated over my skin, creating little frissons of heat in their wake. “A knot can only form if both sides are pulled with equal intensity.”

  “You need proof,” he murmured, his breath puffing over my lips and making them tremble. “The actions that go with the words. The words themselves. And the belief that I’m the man to stand at your side, not in front of you or behind you. Equal, one hundred percent.”

  I nodded. “No matter who’s watching or what they see.”

  Rather than respond with words, he cupped his hand over my belly and placed his lips tenderly on mine. He didn’t push for more, just tormented me with the soft, lingering weight of his mouth.

  All too soon, he eased back, removing the warmth of his palm on my belly. “Have a good night.”

  I was still shivering after he’d gone.

  What new angle was this he was playing? Part of why I’d raced away from the table was my certainty he would probably go into some kind of caveman routine about Moose. Oliver was so concerned about appearances, but he was also insanely jealous. Drunk Oliver had to be even worse. But he’d barely spared the other man a glance.

  The entirety of his attention had been on me. And my belly. As if Moose’s exuberant greeting held no bearing on our lives.

  It didn’t.

  If Oliver had asked me to go home with him, to talk or otherwise, I would’ve said yes. How could I not? He preyed on my heart—and the rest of me—with a skill no other man ever had. I didn’t want this rift to continue between us. All I wanted was for him to tell me he cared. Not just to insinuate it, but to say the actual words.

  Yet he was showing me in his own way. The origami. His speech about the knot. The way he so carefully touched my stomach. He wasn’t indifferent, and he wasn’t just suggesting marriage for propriety’s sake. There was more there—on both sides.