Page 26 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

I stop, listening, my heart pounding a little faster. It’s faint, but definitely there. A ringing sound. I glance around before realizing it’s the doorbell.

I rush to the front door, half expecting Troy to be back early or Jamie to have forgotten something. But when I open it, there’s no one there. Just…a baby. A baby in a bassinet.

“What the actual fuck?” I mutter, looking around wildly. Is this a joke?

I step out onto the porch, peering down the hallway, expecting to see someone lurking, but there’s no one. Just this baby. In a freaking bassinet. There’s also a bag beside him.

My heart starts racing. I have no idea what to do. I look down at the baby, and he’s staring up at me with wide, innocent blue eyes. He’s tiny. Then—of course—he starts to cry.

“Shit,” I whisper, bending down and carefully picking him up. He’s warm and soft, and I awkwardly cradle him against my chest, trying to remember everything I’ve seen in movies about how to hold babies. “It’s okay, it’s okay…please stop crying.”

The baby wails louder, and I feel a wave of panic crash over me.What the hell am I supposed to do?I glance at the bag and quickly open it, hoping for some kind of clue. Inside, there’s a small diaper, some wipes, and a folded piece of paper. I pull it out, my hands trembling slightly.

It’s a birth certificate. The name on it reads, Noah Breaker.

I stare at the name, my brain not really processing it, and then I notice there’s also an envelope withTroy and Jamiewritten on the front. My stomach drops.Oh, fuck no.

I step back inside, holding the baby—Noah—in one arm as I struggle to keep him from crying. He’s clearly been abandoned here. Just left on Troy’s doorstep.

“Okay, okay, Noah, shh…” I whisper, bouncing him gently, trying to calm him down. I’m not exactly maternal, but there’ssomething in me that clicks into place. The baby needs me. I have to figure this out.

I carry him over to the couch, sitting down and rocking him softly. He’s still fussing, but his cries are getting quieter. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any formula, and the bag only has one diaper. I glance at the clock. It’s a little after eight. Troy said he’d be back around nine.I just need to hold on until then.We’ll figure this out together.

I start walking around the living room, cradling Noah in my arms. His little head rests against my chest, and after a few minutes, he starts to settle down. I check his diaper, and sure enough, it’s dirty.Of course.

“All right, little man,” I say, heading back to the bag to grab the wipes and diaper. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It’s a disaster, but I somehow manage to change him on the floor with the one diaper I have. He’s not crying anymore, just staring up at me with big eyes, like he’s trying to figure me out. I smile down at him, my heart doing this weird fluttery thing.

“Better?” I ask softly.

He babbles something, his tiny hands grabbing at the air, and I laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

I pick him up again, holding him close as I pace around the penthouse. My mind is racing, thinking about what to do next.

I can’t leave the house with a baby, especially not one I don’t know. But he needs formula, probably food too. And then there’s the envelope.What the hell does Troy have to do with this?

I glance at the clock again.Just an hour to go.Then Troy will be back, and we can figure this mess out together. Until then, I just have to keep Noah happy and calm. Easier said than done.

I walk over to the window, staring out at the skyline. The view is breathtaking, the city stretching out before me, lights twinkling in the distance. Troy is obviouslyverywealthy, but I already knew that.

This penthouse is sleek, modern, and way too neat. There’s barely anything personal here—no pictures, no clutter. It’s like a showroom, not a home. Especially not for a baby.

In fact, the only warmth in the place right now is this baby in my arms.

I look down at Noah, who’s now half-asleep, his little hand gripping my shirt. My heart aches for him. Whoever left him here must’ve been desperate, but why? And why leave him for Troy and Jamie?

Why both of them?

I sit down on the couch, gently rocking him, my mind spinning with questions. I just hope Troy comes back soon because I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do.

I pull out my phone and start looking at Christmas cocktail recipes. I want to practice making them before the holiday season this time.

The last time I tried making mulled wine it came out all…weird. I want to be better prepared this year.

I frown a little as I realize that I don’t really know anyone to invite over to try out Christmas cookies or mulled wine or anything else that I choose to do to celebrate the holidays.

That thought is kind of depressing. I think of my dad, and then turn my mind away from that.

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