Christmas Baby: A Baby Under the Tree / A Baby For Christmas / Her Christmas Hero

“I have a family function in Houston,” he said, “so, while I was in the area, I thought I’d stop by and say hello. I also thought it might be nice to have dinner together.”

The last time they’d shared a meal, she’d invited him to spend the night. Was he expecting the same thing to happen again?

She could certainly see where he might. When they’d danced in each other’s arms at The Rio, the sexual attraction had ignited. She’d never had a one-night stand before, so she’d struggled with her conscience before inviting him up to her room. But only momentarily.

Once she’d had that sweet experience, she hadn’t been sorry about it, either. Shane had been an incredible lover who’d done amazing things with his hands and his mouth, taking her places she’d never gone before. Ever.

If truth be told, she was sorely tempted to have him take her there again.

But look where sexual attraction and throwing caution to the wind had gotten her—pregnant with the cowboy’s baby.

“What do you say?” he asked, clearly picking up on how torn she was between a yes or a no.

Getting involved with him again would certainly complicate her life, so she was tempted to decline and send him on his way. But what did she know about the man who’d fathered her baby? And what was she supposed to tell her child when he or she inevitably asked the daddy questions?

“We really don’t have much in common,” she admitted. Nothing other than a baby, of course.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure. We never really had a chance to talk much that night.”

He was right about that. Even though they’d known each other’s bodies intimately, the rugged cowboy was pretty much a stranger to her—as she was to him.

But he’d also put her healing process on the fast track and had made her feel desirable again.

So did that make them friendly strangers?

Or strangers with benefits…?

Jillian fiddled momentarily with the silver pendant that dangled from her necklace, then made the decision. “All right. Let me freshen up and change my clothes.”

His smile nearly took her breath away, as he leaned back in his seat. “No problem. Take your time.”

Thirty minutes later, she and Shane entered a little Italian restaurant he’d recommended. She’d chosen to dress casually in black jeans and a pale blue sweater.

At least on the outside, she and Shane appeared to be a better match than they had before, but for some reason she felt like a late-blooming high school senior about to enter the adult world for the first time.

“This place isn’t as nice as the hotel restaurant,” Shane said, “but the food is out of this world.”

Jillian took a hearty whiff of tomatoes and basil, not doubting Shane about the taste. “It sure smells good.”

After the hostess seated them at a quiet table for two, a busboy brought them water with lemon and a basket of freshly baked bread.

“So what do you do for a living?” Shane asked.

Jillian had planned to be the first one to start asking questions, but she supposed they both had a lot to learn about each other. “Right now, I’m planning to go back to school, but I’ll be looking for part-time work soon.”

“What kind of job did you have before?”

She hated to admit that she’d never worked, even though she’d kept pretty busy. But she doubted that he’d care about her philanthropic endeavors—the hospital board on which she’d served or the women’s club, of which she’d been the chair. She was proud of her contributions, of course, but her heart hadn’t been in the projects that had been hand chosen by Thomas—or rather, by his mother. The trouble was, until recently, her volunteerism had been her life, her work. Her only legitimate purpose in the world.

For some reason, she felt as though she ought to apologize or make excuses while explaining that she had high hopes for the future. “I didn’t have a regular job, but I did volunteer work for several charitable organizations over the past few years.”

He seemed to mull that over for a moment, then reached for the bread basket, pulled back the linen cloth that kept it warm and offered her the first slice, which she took.

“So you’re going to take some college classes?” he asked.

“I’m getting a teaching credential.”

“Oh, yeah? You must like kids.”

“I do.”

“But, if I remember correctly, you don’t have any of your own.”

It wasn’t actually a question, just a conclusion he’d obviously come to after something she must have told him. She supposed there was no real reason to respond.

If truth be told, she’d always longed to have a baby—at least two or three. But she and Thomas had never been able to conceive—at least, not together.

And now here she was—unwed and pregnant.

The waiter stopped by to take their orders, which was a relief since she really didn’t want to talk about babies with Shane right now. But her luck didn’t hold.

Once they were alone again, he picked up right where he’d left off. “I guess teaching would be the next best thing to having kids of your own.”

Not really. That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Leaving kids out of the equation, she said, “Actually I’d like to be a high school English teacher.”

Shane arched an eyebrow, his skepticism drawing another smile from her, even though she ought to be miffed that he seemed to be as cynical as Thomas had been when she’d first told him her plan to return to college and get her credential.

“Teenagers can be a real pain to deal with,” he said. “Why not teach kindergarten or one of the lower grades?”

“Because I love the written word. And I’d like to make literature and grammar interesting to teenagers, especially those without college aspirations. I want to encourage them to reach their full potential.” She studied his expression, hoping that he was merely questioning the age of the students she wanted to teach and not the work she wanted to do.

When he didn’t seem to find her dream unusual or unfitting, she added, “And not just any kids. I want to work with bright but unmotivated teens from lower socio-economic backgrounds who believe that college is out of their reach.”

“No kidding?”

She shrugged, waiting for him to give her the same, patronizing response Thomas had when she’d shared her plans with him.

Instead, he grinned, creating a pair of sexy dimples in his cheeks. “I hated English in school, but with a teacher like you, I would have tried a lot harder.”

When he looked at her like that, when he smiled, her heart soared in the same way it had the night they’d met. Just being with him again and feeling the growing buzz of sexual awareness was enough to remind her why she’d taken him back to her room, why she’d given in to sweet temptation.

It didn’t take a psychic to see that she’d be tempted to take him to bed again, once he took her home.

So now what?

Why had he come looking for her? Was he interested in making love one more time?

Or was he missing her, missing this—their time together?