Blame It On Christmas (Southern Secrets Series Book 1)

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Blame It On Christmas (Southern Secrets Series Book 1) Page 19

by Janice Maynard


  “Sure. Why not?” He tilted his head nearly all the way to the side, as if he was sizing her up somehow. “Remember when I used to help you with your chemistry homework?”

  “Yes, of course.” He was good with numbers. Math and science came easily to him. “But this isn’t a school project.”

  “I know.” He righted the angle of his head. “But we’re like family, you and me. The least I can do is support you on this however I can.”

  “Thank you.” Suddenly she wanted to touch him, to put her hands where they didn’t belong, to skim his exquisite jawline, to run her fingers through his still-damp hair. “That means a lot to me.” More than it should. It even made her imagine him being the donor, which was about the dumbest thought she could’ve had. She wiped it out of her mind, but it spiraled back, undermining her common sense.

  He asked, “Should we do it tonight?”

  She struggled to comprehend what he meant. Her brain wasn’t behaving. She was still stuck on the stupid notion of him being the donor, which was complete and utter lunacy.

  “Should we do what?” she finally asked.

  “Look through the sperm-bank sites. I’ll ask Chef to make a batch of his double-chocolate-chip cookies, and I’ll bring them with me. I know how chocolate helps center you.”

  “Yes, let’s do it,” she said, finally managing to rid her jumbled mind of the idea of having his child. “Let’s go through the sites tonight.” She needed to find a donor, a stranger.

  And she was going to make sure it was someone who looked nothing like Tommy, someone who didn’t have the slightest thing in common with him.

  Copyright © 2018 by Sheree Henry-Whitefeather

  ISBN-13: 9781488092435

  Blame It On Christmas

  Copyright © 2018 by Janice Maynard

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, 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 hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  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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