Page 37 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“Unless it really is retaliation for our move to buy the building,” I say. “Which makes me feel really awful.”

“Me too,” Eva whispers.

Carl pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her for comfort. “We’re going to be okay, babe. Worst-case, we’ll have a tough winter. Best-case, maybe I’ll find some construction gigs in Texas or Arizona. Or New Mexico, where it’s warm and dry and the developers work all year-round. We’ll figure something out.” He pauses and gives me a hard look. “But you’re not giving up on this place, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

Loud and clear. But the more I think about it, the more concerned I become. How far will Orson and his buddies push this? Where do we draw the line? We may need to hire an attorney. Protection. Additional protection on top of this new security system and the panic button. The sheriff hasn’t followed up with us about who the guys were that trashed our bakery and threatened me. It’s been a week already. I worry Sheriff Foreman is afraid of Orson or George—or both.

Either way, the pushback we’re getting for simply trying to save our business and our livelihood makes my stomach feel tight. I don’t like this and it’s not fair.

The next morning,I’m brooding at the breakfast table.

Dario is busy with his oatmeal, adding more berries on top. I’ve been pretty successful with improving his diet. The guys keep exchanging glances while digging into their own bowls.

I can barely eat mine. The stress of this whole bakery situation is starting to get to me. My sleep cycle is broken. I’m constantly on edge and looking over my shoulder. Even my quiches came out a little dry yesterday after Carl and Eva left.

“I got something for you,” Riggs says, placing a small, green, velvet box on the table next to my bowl. I stare at it for a long second. “Maybe it’ll lighten your mood a little bit.”

“Another gift?” I ask dryly. The words come out before I can filter them.

I’m irritated. They keep giving me presents. Some small, others ridiculously expensive, the kind of stuff I’d never buy for myself because I can’t afford it. It should be every girl’s dream to have such men spoil her, so why am I resisting? Why do I feel slightly offended by this?

“It’s nothing fancy,” Riggs replies, a soft smile on his lips. “But it will go well with your eyes.”

I open the box to find a pair of absolutely gorgeous diamond earrings. They’re small and delicate, tear-shaped. I look up at him. “I’m sorry, but I think we have different concepts of what nothing fancy means, Riggs.”

“What’s going on with you, Cora?” Sebastian feels the need to intervene, looking worried.

My nerves are a wreck, and I have trouble dealing with the unexpected—even if the unexpected comes in the form of thoughtful gestures. “I told you I don’t need all of these gifts. You don’t need to buy me.”

“I like gifts,” Dario says, though he’s not nearly mature enough to understand what my issue is. His view of things is remarkablysimple.

“Everybody likes gifts,” Sebastian chuckles softly.

“Can I get one?” Dario asks, looking at his foster fathers hopefully.

Riggs snorts. “You can have Cora’s earrings. She doesn’t want them.”

The kid looks confused, prompting the guys to chuckle some more, while I set the box aside and scarf down the rest of my breakfast in heavy silence.

“Tell you what, Dario,” Waylan says. “I’ll get you something really cool if you have a good day at preschool today, okay?”

“I can do that,” he says enthusiastically.

Last night, I told them I wasn’t feeling well and slept in my room. I know the guys are worried about me, but I keep reassuring them that I’m okay. I’m not. Not really. I don’t know how to be in a relationship with all three of them. Maybe that’s where it all stems from—not knowing what this is, what it could be, and how we could make it work under such difficult circumstances.

One by one, I feel like the people of Madison are starting to turn on us. The two Denaro-linked goons scared the life out of me. Then there was the incident with Miss Blanchard. Now Carl is out of a job.

In the meantime, I’m getting hot and steamy with three of the city’s richest and most eligible bachelors, who happen to love sharing me, body and soul. It’s all very confusing.

“Cora, you need to talk to us,” Waylan says. “What’s going on with you?”

“Are you upset that I was…” I glance at Dario, but he’s focused on his breakfast. I’m careful with my words, but I need to say this. “Unavailable last night?” I ask, giving him a stern look. “Do you think more expensive gifts will get you better results?”

“What? No, we’re worried about you,” he scoffs. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Stop buying me pricey stuff. I don’t need it,” I snap and get up from the table.

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