Judy Duarte - A Baby Under the Tree

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Dear Santa,It's me, Jillian Wilkes. I just did something totally out of character: I spent the most glorious night of my life with a stranger named Shane Hollister. Fast-forward three weeks. The sexy cowboy with the sweet smile left me with an incredible, life-changing gift….Hey, Santa,Houston ex-cop Shane Hollister here. I'm still reeling from the news: I'm going to be a father! Ever since Jillian delivered her bombshell, I've made up my mind to really get to know the Texas blonde. And what better place than my ranch in Brighton Valley? Now the top priority on my wish list is to let go of the past and make a future with the family I've always wanted!

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“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?

Did he want to actually date her? And if so, how did she feel about that?

Long-distance relationships didn’t usually work out. Not that Jillian was ready for anything like that to develop between them. After all, she’d made one mistake by believing a man to be honorable when he wasn’t. She certainly didn’t want to make another one by acting too soon.

Still, spending time with Shane was making her realize that she hadn’t been permanently damaged by her husband’s infidelity and that the right man would come along someday.

Would that man be Shane Hollister?

It was impossible to know after only two evenings together. Besides, she had the baby to consider. So she might as well feel him out about that.

“How about you?” she asked. “Do you have any children?”

The spark in his eyes dimmed, and he seemed to tense. For several long, drawn-out heartbeats, he held his tongue, and she felt compelled to apologize, to sympathize—to do or say something, although she didn’t have a clue what.

Finally, he answered, “No, I don’t.”

Something in his tone, in his demeanor, made her wonder if he liked it that way. If so, how would he react when she finally told him about the baby? Would he be happy? Uneasy? Angry?

Would he worry about being responsible—financially or otherwise—for a child he’d never intended to have?

As curious as she was, as much as his answers mattered, she didn’t push for more. She wasn’t ready for a full-on discussion about babies or kids right now, so she opted to change the subject.

“You mentioned that you used to work in Houston. What did you do?”

He reached for his goblet of water, then took a drink. Finally he said, “I worked for the Houston Police Department, first as a patrolman, then as a detective.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say—that he’d been in sales, she supposed. Or that he’d had a dead-end job of some kind. But a police officer?

Not only did that surprise her, it made her feel a whole lot better about him and the man he was.

“Why did you quit?” she asked.

He grew quiet again, as if she’d unearthed something he didn’t want to talk about. Then he shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

Which meant what? That she wasn’t going to get any more out of him than that?

Who was Shane Hollister?

Before she could quiz him further, the waiter brought their food, lasagna for him and pasta primavera for her, creating a momentary lull in the conversation.

While Shane picked up his fork, Jillian asked again, this time point blank, “Why did you leave the police force?”

Shane dug into his lasagna and took a bite, hoping Jillian would get the hint that he didn’t want to talk in detail about the past. There were too many mitigating factors that had caused him to leave the force, too much other stuff to reveal. And no matter how much he enjoyed her company, he wasn’t ready to spill his guts yet. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

“Like I told you,” he said, “it’s complicated.”

She waited a beat, yet didn’t let up on him. “Okay, then tell me about yourself. Where were you born? What kind of childhood did you have?”

He supposed he couldn’t blame her for being curious. He had a lot of questions for her, too.

“There’s not much to tell,” he said. “I was born in Houston and grew up as the youngest of three boys and two girls in a big, close-knit family.”

She leaned forward, as if he’d told her something interesting. “It’s nice that you have a big family.”

He’d always thought so. He watched her spear a piece of broccoli with her fork. The candlelight glistened on the platinum strands of her hair, making her appear radiant and almost…angelic.

Unaware of his gaze, she looked up and smiled. “I never knew my father, so it was only my mom and me at first. After my mother died, I moved in with my grandparents. I’m afraid it’s just Gram and me now.”

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