Page 65 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I’m blubbering on, and you’re standing out in the cold; yeah, get in here.” Meg grinned and stepped to the side, making room for Jill. She motioned to the kitchen. “Do you want something to warm you up? A hot toddy? Spiked hot chocolate? Lucinda outfitted my kitchen with everything imaginable. I have to give her credit for being the ultimate hostess.”
“A tea would be nice,” Jill said, wondering if she should leave it for now.
“Tea it is.” Meg gestured to the living room. “Go warm up by the fire. One hot tea—coming right up. Sorry to unload on you, by the way.”
“No, that’s why I’m here.” Jill felt herself losing steam.
Was this a sign from the Universe?
Meg returned with a steaming mug of tea shortly. She patted the seat next to her on the couch and placed the tea on the coffee table. “Where’s Owen?”
Jill’s throat swelled shut. She forced a hard swallow, not able to meet Meg’s gaze.
“What? What is it?” Meg sat forward and squeezed Jill’s knee.
Jill stared at the hardwood floor, not trusting herself to speak. She needed Meg’s support. It was now or never. She gulped a deep breath and let the words rush out. “He left. He’s gone.”
“Gone? What? Why?” Meg shook her head. “I don’t get it. He’s super into you. Why would he leave?”
“He’s not super into me,” Jill said, realizing that was the ugly truth. If Owen really loved her and cared for her, he would have stayed—he would have at least listened to her about her parents and San Francisco.
He would have wanted this baby.
Her hand instinctively went to her stomach. “He’s gone.”
“Wait, sorry. Jill, what’s going on? I don’t get it. You and Owen are the ultimate couple, like seriously couple goals. He absolutely adores you. I can see it every time we’re together. In fact, I’m always slightly jealous. I want someone who looks at me the way Owen looks at you. This must be a misunderstanding.”
“It’s not.” Jill shook her head with more force than she intended. “He’s gone. He took off.”
“But why?” Meg sounded as confused as she felt.
Just say it.
Say it.
She released a long breath and met Meg’s wide eyes. “Because I’m pregnant.”
FORTY-TWO
JOHANNA
Connor pleaded with Johanna, pacing in front of the fireplace and dragging his hands through his hair. “Would you stop being so stubborn for like five seconds and listen to me?”
“What is there to listen to?” She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, ignoring the pile of gorgeous flowers. Connor had picked her favorites—deep burgundy roses and cream lilies mixed with greenery and sprigs of rosemary. He must have been serious about buying out the stock because there had to be at least a hundred stems, enough to open her own flower cart.
She wanted to believe him.
If he had really given up a job for her—for love—Meg would lose her mind.
But the evidence was stacked against him.
She had tangible proof he was lying.
She scrolled through her email until she found the announcement. “Read it for yourself—it’s all right here. ‘Connor Howard to lead new ESPN personalities division.’”
Connor moved close to her. Close enough to smell his aftershave and feel the heat pulsing off his rock-hard body.
Don’t go there, Johanna.
