“Hi, honey, I’m home!”
Aiden heard her laugh and followed it to the nursery, where she stood on a ladder. “Be careful.” He extended a hand to help her down. Good thing, because she faltered and fell into him. “See, this is why you need me,” he said, catching her.
He pulled her closer and lowered his head toward her, hesitating, giving her a chance to object.
Their first kiss had been for the tabloid reporter. This kiss wasn’t for show. This one had been a long time coming.
Need coursed through him, unlike any he’d ever felt. Never in his long history of women, each of whom was supposed to be the antidote for Bia. But there was no antidote.
There had always been obstacles between them—physical distance, engagements, his marriage and their jobs. Till now.
Enough was enough. This time he was claiming what was his.
* * *
Celebrations, Inc:
Let’s get this party started!
Celebration’s
Baby
Nancy Robards Thompson
Award-winning author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments, and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming, “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since she hung up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.
This book is dedicated with love to good friends who are steadfast and true.
Contents
Chapter One
Being in charge had its perks. Today, Bia Anderson fully intended to cash in. After all, there was chocolate involved.
She lifted her chin a little higher as she walked up the petunia-lined path to the old bungalow located at the end of Main Street in downtown Celebration—the new home of Maya’s Chocolates.
Nicole Harrison, a staff writer for the Dallas Journal of Business and Development, where Bia was the editor in chief, hadn’t hidden her disappointment that morning. Bia had assigned her to the catch-a-greased-pig contest at the grand opening of the Piggly Wiggly over in Kenansville rather than the interview for the Maya’s Chocolates business profile.
It wasn’t the first time she and Nicole had butted heads, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But that came with the territory. In the two months since Bia had taken the reins as editor of the paper, making tough calls that sometimes disappointed the staff hadn’t gotten easier, but she just had to suck it up and do what she thought was best.
So what if they all thought she was hard as nails, lacking empathy and compassion?
What would they think when they found out she was going to be a mother? The wall immediately went up, and she told herself she didn’t care what they’d say or do or how they’d smirk when they learned she was pregnant by People’s reigning “Sexiest Man Alive,” Hugh Newman. The thought knocked the air out of her. And not in a good way; it was more like a sucker punch to the gut. Reflexively, her hand went to her belly.
She’d done the pregnancy test last night, finally pulling her head out of the sand after being two months late. She still hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around the reality of it—although the unexpected pregnancy did explain why she’d been craving chocolate to the point of insanity.
At first, she’d blamed the cravings on the stress of the Hugh Newman debacle: a five-day lapse of judgment that had ended abruptly when the paparazzi started inquiring into the identity of the woman with the auburn hair in the blue sundress, with whom Newman had been seen canoodling in Celebration, Texas.
Canoodling? Did anyone even use that word anymore?
He’d been in town doing location research—soaking up local color for his next movie. Also, he had accepted an invitation to emcee the annual Doctor’s Charity Ball, which benefited the new pediatric surgical wing at Celebration Memorial Hospital. Bia had gotten an up-close-and-personal tutorial of why Hugh had been named Mr. Sexy when she’d had lunch with him to interview him for the paper (and you can bet Nicole Harrison hadn’t been happy that Bia had claimed that assignment). Five minutes into the interview, Hugh Newman had charmed the pants off her. Okay, so maybe it had been more like an hour. God, she wasn’t that easy.
