Page 1 of Oh My Secret Christmas Baby
Chapter One
CANDY
Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year. I would always find the silver lining in the holiday. There is magic in the air, or maybe it’s the hope that there will be.
This year is different. I have this unsettling feeling and a sense of dread. There’s no reason for it. I’m in a place that is kind of mine. It’s not a dorm room or foster home, but still, everything is off, and I can’t put my finger on why. It doesn’t help that I got a weird message from a woman at Bloom Fertility. She’s one of the nurses at the facility.
It’s strange for her to reach out to me outside of the office, and that’s what she wants to do. She’s asked to meet up alone, which is harder to pull off than it should be. It's giving me an uneasy feeling and a bundle of worry.
It has to be about the baby. But why does she want to tell me whatever it is at a coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday? The thing is, as odd as it is, it also isn’t. Again, things have been off, and it’s as though I’ve been waiting for the universe to tell me why that is. When she reached out to me, I knew this was it.
My hand goes to the small bump that is barely visible. I keep telling myself it’s the baby hormones, but I can only lie to myself for so long. It doesn’t help that my best friend Max has been strange too. Again, I was chalking that up to the fact that I’m carrying his baby. I’m still not sure how he talked me into that one.
Okay, I do know exactly how. The man has done so much for me, and this is the one thing I can do for him that he can’t do for himself. I was more than shocked when he told me he wanted a baby. He can be a bit of a playboy. I didn’t see him ever settling down, but that might be why he’s going about having a baby this way. He doesn’t have to settle down.
I smile when a snowflake hits me right in the eye. Wait, is that the universe telling me to open my damn eyes? I might be missing all the signs or maybe I’m too scared to see them.
I brace my hand on the door to the coffee shop, glancing behind me. There has been this eerie sensation of being watched lately. I even have it when I’m at home. I glance around, and when I don’t see anyone who appears to be watching, I push through the door, a bell chiming overhead.
Cara is sitting at a table all the way in the back. She waves me over. I take a deep breath, loving the smell of coffee, which is new. I hate the taste of it. Always have. Today, however, there is a sugar cookie smell mixed with it.
I slip through a few tables, making my way to her.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” Cara glances behind me. It makes me do the same, but I don’t see anything. “Sit. I just have to get this out.”Good, because I need you to too.
“You’re freaking me out,” I tell her, pulling the chair back to sit down. Cara is in her normal scrubs, her blond hair pulled back tightly. "The baby is okay, right? Let's get that clear."
The baby might not be mine in a biological sense, but I'm already attached. Actually, I'm way too attached, which scares me because I have no rights to the baby. I try and talk myself down, knowing that Max wants me to be a part of the baby's life. It's partly why I'd agreed to move in with him.
It works out better all around. I'm still on the job hunt fresh out of college. I can’t get a call back to save my life. Not even to set up an interview.
Max graduated a couple of years ago and is already running his family's finance company. He is what most call a trust fund baby. I can't hate or knock it because as his best friend, I get to benefit from some of the luxury of that. I think it's one of the reasons I feel beholden to him.
He also helped me pay for my last year of college when one of the programs I'd gotten a scholarship for fell through. I was sure I wouldn't be able to finish and get my degree, but Max was there, ready and willing to help. Having this baby is the least I can do to help him.
“The baby is perfect.” I let out a breath. “It’s just not the baby you think it is.” She looks around as though she’s making sure she’s in the clear. I stare at her. What the hell does that even mean?
“Like it’s a panda?” I joke, but she doesn’t find it funny. Her ominous expression has me sitting up straighter.
“I could get in so much trouble for this,” she mutters. “But this is fucked up. I wouldn’t be able to lay my head on the pillow at night if I didn’t tell you.” My anxiety ramps up to a level I never even knew was possible. What could be sofucked upthat she would have to sneak around outside of the facility to tell me? That it would causehersleepless nights?
“Okay, we’re back to me being really freaked out,” I tell her. “Say it. Please. I can’t deal with this stress.” My hand goes protectively to my stomach.
“The baby isn’t Max’s.”
“What?” Of course it is.
“He’s shooting blanks, Gwen. Trust me, I know.”
“Okay.” I nod, taking a deep breath. This could be worse. I actually am relieved if that’s all it is. The egg isn’t mine either. “Maybe it’s a topic he doesn’t like to share.”
I mean, he doesn't have to tell me everything, but if he was going to use donor sperm, I would think that is something he would talk to me about. You know, to get my approval. But the bun is already in the oven, so there’s not much I can do about it now. It’s still his baby. Plus, when it comes to Max and his ego and anything in a challenging male way, he always gets a puffed-out chest. It’s annoying as hell, but we all have our faults.
“That’s not all.”
“Holy butterscotch. There’s more?” What else could it be?
