Page 232 of Santa Daddies

A slip of paper appeared and she stared down at it. Then she sighed. This was it. The moment that would cut that tie immediately.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the door. To her horror, tears dripped down her face again as she stared at his chest.

She couldn’t bring herself to look up into his eyes. It would be too much. A sob escaped, muffled by her thumb but she knew he’d heard it when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Baby? Look at me.”

Shaking her head, she kept her gaze lowered. She couldn’t stand to see disapproval or horror on his face.

And she wished he would stop calling her ‘baby.’ Because that’s what she wanted to be more than anything.

His baby.

In more ways than one.

“Hey, stop that. Stop crying,” he said gruffly.

Right. Because all it would take for her to stop crying was for him to tell her to stop.

Didn’t he know that never worked?

A finger went under her chin and tilted her head back. She promptly closed her eyes.

“Fuck, baby. You’re killing me here. I hate that I made you cry. What do you want me to do to make it better? Tell me what Ican do. Want me to get down on my knees? Might not be able to get back up, but I probably deserve that.”

What the heck was he talking about?

Alice opened her eyes and gaped up at him. Then she shook her head.

“No? You sure? I’ll do it if it will stop you from crying.”

She shook her head again.

“It won’t stop you from crying? How about if you don’t stop crying, I’ll kneel.”

She glared at him. He was trying to blackmail her into not crying? What the heck?

“Hmm. I can see that worked.”

It had? Oh, she had stopped crying. But only because she was mad at him.

“I’m going to come inside and shut the door. You’re getting cold.” Anson closed his eyes for a moment. “I mean, can I come in?”

What was happening right now? He was asking? That wasn’t Anson. But she decided not to question him because she actually did want him to come in. This onesie wasn’t enough to protect her from the chill in the Colorado mountain air.

But what she was really worried about was him. She hated that he was her main concern, however she couldn’t just change herself overnight.

So she stepped back into the room. Nerves had her heart racing. Was he going to say something about the way she was dressed? About Lola? About her thumb being in her mouth?

“Thank you,” he told her, looking uncertain.

This wasn’t the Anson she knew and . . . liked.

Yes. Definitely liked.

She could not have fallen in love with this man.

Not. Happening.