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

“My grandparents raised me, remember? So I spent a lot of time watching the classics on television.”

He grew pensive for a moment, then turned to her and brightened. “If you don’t mind spending a quiet evening at home, I can see if there are any good movies on TV.”

“Sure. That sounds good to me.”

Once they were back at the apartment, Shane reached for the remote and clicked on the television. Then he surfed the channels, pausing momentarily to catch a baseball score.

“I’m not finding anything too exciting,” he said, “but there’s an old Cary Grant movie that will be starting in a couple of minutes. Are you up for something like that?”

“Which one is it?”

“Father Goose, with Leslie Caron.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one.”

“You don’t mind seeing it again?”

“Not at all.”

Jillian wasn’t sure how Shane actually felt about spending the evening watching classic movies, especially one he might consider a chick flick, but she’d find out soon enough.

After placing the television remote on the glass-topped coffee table, Shane went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the microwave hummed. Before long, a popping sound let her know that he was making popcorn. She smiled at the thoughtful gesture.

“I’m going to make a root beer float,” he called, as he opened the freezer door. “Would you like one, too? I can also give you plain ice cream or something else to drink.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love one. I haven’t had a float since my grandfather died. Do you need some help?”

“Nope. I’ve got it.”

As the movie began, they took seats on the sofa, with the bowl of popcorn between them and root beer floats in hand, and soon fell into the story.

Shane laughed in all the appropriate spots, which Jillian took to mean that he found the old movie as entertaining as she did. But even if that wasn’t the case, she had to give him credit for being a good sport.

The film was a classic romantic comedy at its best, and as Jillian reached into the popcorn bowl, her fingers brushed Shane’s, sending a rush of heat up her arm.

As she glanced at him, she caught him looking at her.

For a moment, the only romance she could think about was the one brewing between her and Shane, especially since it was nearing the witching hour for lovers.

Not midnight, of course, but bedtime…

“Sorry,” she said, conjuring up an unaffected smile.

“No problem.”

As their gazes locked, as the sexual awareness that buzzed between them grew almost deafening, she broke eye contact and returned her focus to the television screen. Yet even though she pretended to watch Cary and Leslie with the interest of an avid fan, it took ages to get back into the story.

When the credits began to roll on the screen, Shane got to his feet. “Are you up for another movie? Or maybe a game of cards?”

She smiled, realizing the next two weeks might prove to be more pleasant than either of them had thought.

“Actually,” she admitted, “I didn’t sleep very well last night, and I’m fading fast.”

“All right. You take the room. I’ll fix a bed on the sofa.”

While she was tempted to object and tell him that she didn’t mind sharing the bed with him, she wasn’t sure she would be able to climb between the sheets and face the wall when he was just an arm’s reach away. So she clamped her mouth shut and watched him pull a blanket and pillow out of the linen closet.

“You can have the bathroom first,” he said. “I’ll use it when you’re finished.”

“I won’t be long.” As she headed for the bedroom to get her makeup bag and nightgown, she realized she ought to be grateful for Shane’s concessions and his obvious attempt to make her feel welcome and at home.

But for some reason, as she prepared for bed, disappointment settled over her at the thought of sleeping alone.

Jillian might have turned in early last night, but she’d lain in bed for hours, unable to sleep.

Just knowing that Shane was mere steps away had driven her crazy, and the fact that he’d been so sweet to her had only made it worse. He’d treated her with nothing but kindness and respect ever since the night they’d first met, and it was difficult to imagine him as a police officer who’d overstepped his bounds and assaulted a suspect in custody.

Of course, she didn’t know that he’d done anything wrong. After all, the article she’d read said that he’d been reinstated. So that probably meant he’d been innocent of any wrongdoing.

She’d been tempted to bring it up, to ask him about it, but she’d decided to wait for her friend to report back with more details. Then she could come to her own conclusions about the man who’d shown her only kindness and understanding.

Or was she missing something?

In spite of him having a gentle side, did he resort to violence when frustrated, angry or provoked?

Thomas had on occasion, and it had been a little frightening. So even though Jillian found it hard to believe that Shane had a similar trait, the question was too important to ignore. Yet by the time she’d fallen asleep at two in the morning, she hadn’t been any closer to having an answer.

And now, as she threw off the covers and rolled out of bed, she glanced at the clock on the bureau, only to realize it was after eight. So she slipped on her robe and padded into the living area.

The aroma of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, taunting her taste buds. But that was nothing compared with the stirring ache of hunger she felt at seeing Shane move about the small kitchen, balancing his time between the skillet of breakfast meat and a mixing bowl into which he was cracking an egg.

Thomas wouldn’t have been caught dead in a kitchen, let alone cooking. But then again, he’d grown up with a full household staff that had been quick to handle his every need.

Jillian placed a hand on her growing tummy and caressed the swell of her womb. If she and Shane ended up with a shared-custody arrangement, would he go to this kind of trouble for their child? She hoped so.

Before she could utter a cheerful, “Good morning,” she watched him grimace and stroke the back of his neck, kneading the muscles from the top to the bottom.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

He turned, clearly not aware that she’d been watching him, then his hand lowered and a smile burst across his freshly shaven face. “Hey! Good morning.”

“You were rubbing your neck. Does it hurt?”

“It’s not that bad. I just slept on it wrong.”

She wasn’t exactly buying that, since he’d probably been cramped on the sofa and hadn’t been able to stretch out all the way.

“I’m sorry,” she said.