A Baby For Christmas - A Billionaire's New Baby Romance

by Layla Valentine

  Not wanting to waste another second, I hurried back to my rental cabin, pulled open my laptop and went through my finances, figuring out how much it would cost to get out of my current lease and put a down payment on the abandoned cabin. I got more and more excited as I looked over the numbers—it looked like this was actually something I could do.

  I spent the rest of the weekend hard at work on the proposal I was going to present to Richie, only taking breaks to go for long, peaceful walks through the nature that surrounded me or go for a bite to eat in the adorable downtown area. By the time the weekend was over, I was more than eager to get back to the city and let him know what I’d decided.

  “You really want to do this, huh?” Richie asked that next Tuesday when I was back in town and in his office. “Leave the city behind and live in some small town upstate?”

  “I’m so sure that I can’t even believe it.”

  He sat back in his desk chair and took another look through the presentation on his computer. For a moment, I worried that he would say no, that my dreams of small-town peace would be dashed, and I’d be forced to spend the next year in that tiny Bushwick apartment.

  “Sure,” he said. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  I was so happy that I ran around the desk and threw my arms around him. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was excited about what life had in store for me.

  The next few months had been a blur. After sending the down payment to the bank, I began the process of trying to get out of my lease. I wasn’t looking forward to it, knowing that I was likely to take a huge financial hit breaking it.

  However, I caught a lucky break, after one of my coworkers let me know that her younger sister was moving to the city and needed a place to live. I told her about my apartment, and we came to an arrangement with the landlord where the sister would take over the lease after I’d moved out, and that was that—no penalty or anything.

  After a frenzied weekend of working and packing, I rented a moving truck, paid some movers to load my things, and was off. The drive through Manhattan was bittersweet—sure, I was happy to leave, but I’d had some great times here. New York City was the most permanent home I’d ever known.

  I imagined coming back when my baby was grown, taking him or her to Central Park or down Fifth Avenue, showing them the places where their mother loved to spend time when she was younger.

  But I was ready to move on.

  After a weekend of moving in and tidying up the place, the cabin at Holly Lake began to look like a home. It was a charming two-story with three bedrooms—one for me, one for the baby, and one that I was excited about turning into a home office. It took me a while to get used to having so much space—not to mention a yard and a car—but once I’d settled in I knew I’d made the right decision.

  After that, the months flew by. I worked and worked, my belly getting bigger with each passing day. The baby was due in late August, and I was already imagining spending the fall with my new baby, his or her first months spent among the turning autumn leaves.

  After letting the tea cool for a little while longer, I lifted the mug to my lips and took a long, slow sip, letting the delicious brew hang on my palate for a few moments before swallowing.

  A soft chime snapped me out of my reverie, and I glanced over to the kitchen table to see that the screen of my phone was lit up.

  I set down my tea and checked it out. It was a text from Jamie, my old friend with whom I’d reconnected over these last few months.

  It’d been a total shock to see her. I’d gone into one of the coffee shops downtown, ready to curl up with a book and some coffee. Then, my nose buried in my book, I heard a voice speak my name.

  I looked up, wondering who would be speaking to me. It was a woman, about my own age. She was slim and pretty, with very long brown hair worn in a thick braid that nearly reached her waist. She was dressed in a flannel shirt and slim jeans, a pair of dark brown boots completing the picture.

  And more than anything, she looked very, very familiar.

  Once she told me who she was and I got over my shock, I burst up from my seat, nearly spilling my coffee everywhere. I threw my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She plopped down into the seat next to me, and for the next several hours over coffee then dinner, the two of us caught up.

  Jamie had ended up staying in Holly Lake after I’d left, going to high school here and opening a small art supply store, one that she still owned. She’d been married for a few years, but the marriage had ended before they’d had any children.

  We managed to pick up our friendship right where we’d left off. Jamie became my best friend once again, and I was overjoyed to have her in my life.

  Holding the phone in front of my face, I read the text.

  Hey! I’m on the way back from the store—want me to come by and cook dinner?

  I smiled and sent my reply.

  If you hurry there’s tea ; )

  Her response was quick.

  Perfect. See you in a few.

  I sat down at the kitchen table and went back to my tea, sipping it and thinking about what lay ahead in these next couple of months.

  Then, the baby kicked—hard. It was hard enough to give me pause, but after a few moments, I put it out of my head and returned to my tea.

  A soft knocking at the door announced Jamie’s presence. I got out of my seat and waddled to the door, opening it to reveal my friend, a smile on her face and her arms full of brown grocery bags. A rush of warm, fresh August air greeted me.

  “Hey!” she said.

  “Hey!”

  Then I turned my eyes to the bags.

  “Let me help you with those,” I said, but Jamie shook her head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said, shuffling past me and into the house. “The rule with pregnant ladies is that they don’t do a lick of work.”

  “Fine, fine,” I said with a grin, following her into the kitchen.

  Jamie dropped the bags onto the counter, turned to me, and leaned back. Her eyes shot down to my belly, which by now was so big it was stretching the powder-blue T-shirt I wore to its limit.

  “Holy crap,” she said. “You’re so pregnant.”

  I plopped my hands onto my belly.

  “Just now noticing?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’ve noticed,” she said. “But I don’t know if it’s the lighting or what, but you look about ready to pop. What’s the due date again?”

  “August twenty-fourth,” I said. “Exactly two weeks from today.”

  Jamie stepped over to the tea kettle and poured herself a mug of hot water, plopping a bag into it before turning her attention back to me.

  “How excited are you?” she asked.

  “Very excited and very scared. I mean, I can’t wait to see the little he. Or she. But doing it all on my own…”

  “You’re not going to be on your own,” Jamie said. “I’m going to help whenever I can.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a smile. “That means a lot.”

  “Don’t even worry about it,” Jamie said. She shook her head. “I still can’t believe you’re waiting until the day of the birth to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “I know it’s kind of old-fashioned,” I conceded, “I just thought it’d be more fun that way.”

  “Couldn’t do it,” Jamie said. “I’d need to know as soon as humanly possible. I’d be so ready for that baby that it would make doomsday preppers look reasonable.”

  I laughed, wrapping my hands around my mug.

  “So,” I said. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Well,” she said, turning her attention back to the bags. “I hope you’re not having any weird pregnant lady cravings, because I’m making something very, very normal—spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Seriously?” I asked. “I don’t think I’ve had spaghetti and meatballs since…I can’t even think of when.”

  “Same here,” Jamie said. “And that’s ex
actly why I decided to make it. But this is my grandma’s recipe, so trust me, there’ll be nothing plain about it.”

  Sipping my coffee, I watched Jamie get to work, mixing the ingredients for the meatballs and tossing them into a pan of sizzling oil, the delicious smell of meat cooking filling the air.

  “So,” she said, glancing at me over her shoulder. “I know you hate the subject, but I have to ask.”

  Uh-oh. I knew where this was going.

  “Have you heard even a single word from Colton?”

  “Nope,” I said. “Same answer as last month and the month before and the month before. I mean, I did tell him to leave me alone or I’d sue him.”

  “I guess you can’t say he’s a man who doesn’t respect your wishes.”

  I listened to the bubbling of the water, already able to taste the spaghetti. I was getting so hungry I could hardly stand it.

  “You’re right about that,” I said.

  Then, another baby kick jolted me.

  “You okay?” asked Jamie.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Kiddo’s just being extra ornery today.”

  “Probably ready to come out,” Jamie said. “Can’t say I blame him.” A pensive expression crossed her face. “I know this is your business, and I know you have your reasons, but…”

  I raised my eyebrows. “But?”

  “Don’t you think you ought to let Colton know? I mean, he is the baby’s father. And he has no idea that he’s about to become a dad.”

  I sighed, knowing that there was some truth to her words.

  “I can’t,” I said. “Sure, telling Colton was my first instinct, but Richie’s right. Colton showed his true colors when he stole my design for the logo.”

  “Yeah,” said Jamie. “That was a thing he did.”

  “Right,” I said. “If things were different between him and me, if he had been a different man, then maybe…I don’t know.”

  I shook my head, trying not to get too wrapped up in the fantasy of what my life might be like if Colton were a part of it. But a different Colton—the man I thought he was when we first met.

  “Anyway, Richie’s right. If I told him, he’d either do everything he could to deny it or take the baby for his own. I can’t see a man like him going about this in a fair way. Best thing I can do is be the best mom I can be.”

  “Such a shame,” she said. “Imagine the life a guy with that kind of money could provide for you and the kid.”

  “Honestly, I’m not even thinking about the money,” I said. “My job pays well enough, and the cost of living here is so cheap that money shouldn’t be an issue. But it would be nice to have a man around.”

  Another hard kick, and I winced again.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  But right as I spoke the words, a tinge of pain ran through my belly, like the muscles of my stomach had been pulled too tight. I bit down on my lower lip through the pain, and it faded as quickly as it came.

  Jamie went back to the food as the two of us chatted, and before too long the table was set with a heaping bowl of pasta, two dishes—one filled with a delicious looking deep red tomato sauce and the other piled high with meatballs—and a basket of garlic bread, fresh from the oven.

  “Jamie, this looks so freaking good,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  “You are so welcome,” she said.

  I scooped a heaping helping of pasta onto my plate, followed by two huge spoonfuls of meatballs and sauce, and, of course, some bread. With the food in front of me, I was ready to dig in.

  I wrapped the pasta around my fork and took a bite. It was delicious. I took another, then another.

  But as I reached for the bread on my plate, another crack of pain shot through my belly.

  “Oh, ow!” I cried out, my fork dropping from my hand and landing on the plate with a clatter.

  “Whoa, what’s wrong?” asked Jamie.

  This time the pain didn’t go away. I gripped onto the edge of the table hard as the pain pulsed through me. It was so intense that I felt like I was going to burst open.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed. “I…I think…”

  Then, if there was any doubt left, I felt the hard trickle of liquid run down my legs.

  My eyes shot up to Jamie, latching onto hers.

  “It’s the baby,” I said. “It’s coming!”

  Chapter 20

  Shayla

  Pain shot through me like a hot knife, and I let out a shriek as I slammed my hand down onto the table, nearly hitting the edge of my plate and launching the spaghetti into the air.

  “Oh no, oh no,” said Jamie as she jumped out of her chair and held her hands out in front of her. “Is it happening right now?”

  “Right now!” I shouted.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “Please tell me you can make it to the hospital—delivering babies isn’t really in my skill set.”

  I winced my eyes shut and breathed in deeply. The pain subsided, but only slightly, and I knew the relief would be short-lived.

  “I…I think I can make it,” I said. “But we need to go now.”

  “Got it,” said Jamie.

  She went right to action, grabbing both of our phones, purses and our keys. Then she hurried over to my side, slipped her arm around my back, and helped me to my feet.

  “Come on, Shay,” she said. “Not far to the car and then you can just sit on your butt while I drive you.”

  I walked slowly and carefully, aware that the slightest misstep would send a fresh rush of agony through me.

  “That’s it,” said Jamie, leading me carefully out the front door and toward her dark red sedan.

  I glanced up to see that the sun was dipping low in the sky, the evening brilliant with oranges and creams.

  Once we reached the car, Jamie kept one hand on me as she opened the door and helped me in. The pain faded as soon as I was in the car, enough for me to realize that this was all happening way too early.

  Jamie rushed over to the driver’s side of the car and jumped in.

  “This is bad,” I said. “Really bad.”

  “What?” asked Jamie as she clicked her seatbelt into place and turned the ignition. “You’re about to have the baby, right? What’s bad about that?”

  She gunned the engine and pulled the car around toward the road leading away from the house.

  “I’m early,” I said. “Two weeks early.”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Jamie said calmly. “Just settle in while I get you to the hospital. It’s going to be a twenty-minute drive. Just sit tight.”

  Jamie pulled out onto the main road, the one that would bring us downtown. As soon as she did, another contraction hit, my back curling with pain.

  “Ahh!” I cried out, digging my nails into the seat.

  “It’s okay, Shay,” said Jamie. “Just a few more minutes.”

  Through the pain I watched as the trees whipped by as the car tore down the main road. The pain faded again, and I looked up and saw the buildings of downtown approach.

  “Almost there,” said Jamie.

  Ahead a green light turned yellow. And to my shock, Jamie sped up.

  “Are you crazy?” I said.

  “There’s no one else on the road,” she said, her eye fixed forward. “You want to wait at a red light right now?”

  “Not really,” I admitted through the pain.

  “Then hold on!”

  The engine revved as Jamie whipped through the intersection.

  “You’re crazy!” I huffed.

  “Maybe, but I’m the crazy person who’s going to get you to the hospital to get that baby out!”

  The three-story brick hospital came into view, the parking lot packed with ambulances and other vehicles. Jamie pulled hard into the lot, bringing us up in front of the emergency room entrance.

  “Hold on, Shay,” she said before throwing open the door and jumping out.

  The pain was manag
eable for now, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it hit me hard again.

  Thankfully, the door opened up before the next contraction hit, revealing a team of nurses and doctors next to the car, one of them with her hand on the handles of a wheelchair.

  “There she is,” said one of the doctors. “Come on, let’s get you out of there.”

  A few pairs of hands fell on me as the staff helped me out of the car and into the wheelchair. The nurse pushed me in through the automatic doors of the hospital, leading me into the emergency room. The harsh white of the interior lights disoriented me at first, and the din of the hospital swirled around me.

  “We’re going to get you all taken care of,” said one of the nurses. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  “And I’m going to be here until that little guy comes out,” said Jamie as she kept up with the team. “Or girl.”

  “I’m early,” I said to no one in particular. “Really early.”

  One of the doctors gave me a concerned look.

  “How early?” he asked.

  “Two weeks. Exactly two weeks.”

  His expression relaxed. “Don’t you worry at all,” he said. “Two weeks is early, but nothing unheard of.”

  Relief washed over me like a wave, but before I could get too comfortable, another contraction hit. I gripped the armrests of the wheelchair as I let out another cry of pain, one that carried down the hallway.

  “Almost there,” said the nurse who was pushing my wheelchair. “Just hang on.”

  Before I knew it, a door opened in front of me, and I was led into a spacious hospital room and hefted onto a blue bed.

  I don’t know how much time passed—it was all a total blur. There was pain and screaming, calls from the staff for me to breathe and push interspersed throughout.

  But right at the peak of it, during one last command to “push” from one of the nurses, I heard a baby’s cry.

  “There he is,” called out the doctor, his voice muffled by his face mask.

  The pain rushed out of my body, replaced by a huge rush of endorphins.

  Then it hit me—the doctor said “he”?