Playboys' Christmas Surprises: A Christmas Baby Surprise. Catherine Mann

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you saying that to be accommodating? Or is that the truth?”

      “The truth. Your instincts are right. That’s your side of the bed.”

      Something eased inside her. Maybe she needed to follow her instincts more with him.

      Alaina climbed into bed and patted the space beside her. “Okay. Join me.”

      He lay on top of the spread. “Done, as requested.”

      “And I didn’t die.”

      “Wow, now that’s a turn-on.”

      Laughing, she shoved him gently with both hands and felt the resistance in his muscles as her skin met his. He let out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

      She sagged back into the fluffy feather pillow. He reclined on his side, propping his head on his hand.

      Alaina picked at the down comforter. “What’s next? Our situation is so unconventional I don’t know what the rules are.”

      “No rules as far as I’m concerned. We’re making this up as we go.”

      Still, she wanted details, a sense of who’d they’d been. “How did we used to sleep? Did I sleep on your chest? Did we spoon? Me against you? You against me? Opposite sides of bed?”

      “Why don’t we just see where we end up?” He held out an arm.

      After only an instant’s hesitation, she rested her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. A sigh filled her. This. This was right. The feel of her body fitting against her husband’s.

      Sleep pulled at her eyelids. It had been an exhausting day. Being here with Porter felt so damn right. Familiar. As if by muscle memory, her body curled around him, and she took comfort in the steady rise and fall of his broad chest.

      Her eyelids fluttered shut. How was it possible to be entirely at ease and so on edge all at once?

      * * *

      Sleep was the furthest thing from Porter’s mind.

      Then again, that was nothing new. Not since the accident. Since the endless blur of days and nights at the hospital. He’d taken to doing work in the odd hours of the evening. Using work as a way to keep his mind off the dire situation of his family.

      But tonight, he was working for different reasons. He needed to keep himself occupied, to keep his hands off his wife. Tonight, concentration was difficult. Near impossible, with Alaina pressed against him.

      It had been so damn long since he’d held her like this. Since the warmth of her body melted with his. He absently ran a hand through her hair. She drew in closer.

      How had it been so long since they’d done this? Been in bed together, nestled against each other.

      Too long.

      Yes, he wanted to touch her, to make love to her, but he had to keep his goals in mind. For the first time in months, he felt as if they were working together. That they were in this for real. Not just him, but her, too. They were becoming a family. At least, he thought they were. His own experiences with family were shaky at best. And her family was gone. But this family—this family had a shot.

      He returned his attention back to his tablet. Looked over some reports. Started to feel the pull of sleep.

      But something was wrong. Alaina started to shake. She twisted away from him.

      “Stop it.” Her voice was a murmur. But there was desperation in it.

      “Let go. Just...just. No. Stop.” Her lovely face contorted with fear. She continued to thrash against an invisible assailant.

      She was having a nightmare.

      Gently, he shook her shoulder. “Alaina. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

      She gasped in air. Her blue eyes suddenly alert. Scanning the room. Focusing on him. Breathing rapidly, her body twitchy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Oh, God, this plan isn’t working out like I meant it... I should just go.”

      He clasped her arm. “Stay. Do you remember what you dreamed? Did you recall something from the past?”

      “No, not really.” She sagged back against him. “I was just having a nightmare about Douglas, about that time with him. Things get muddled in dreams, feeling out of control and scared. Did I tell you about Douglas?”

      “Your ex-boyfriend before you met me? Yes, you did.”

      “What did I tell you?”

      “Are you trying to pull information out of me? Have you forgotten parts of that time in your life, too?”

      “I remember. He was verbally abusive. I didn’t see that for a long time. Then he hit me...” She shook her head. “And then I was done. I walked out.”

      “That’s what you told me.” Once he’d learned about the jerk, Porter had made a point to keep tabs on the guy, make sure he honored that restraining order. “I’m sorry tonight is bringing back bad memories for you. This was supposed to be a positive experience.”

      “It would have been worse if I’d been alone. Let’s try again.”

      “I’d like that, too.” She maneuvered into the crook of his arm. Laid a hand on his chest. He pulled her tightly against him, his mind churning with ways to help her feel at ease, to know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Her breathing slowed, falling into the rhythmic pattern of a deep sleep.

      And even with the determination to keep her safe from threats like Douglas, and to keep his hands to himself until she was ready for more, Porter couldn’t deny he had no way to keep her safe from thoughts of the past.

      * * *

      The yellow-orange rays of dawn’s first light filtered in between the tulle-like curtains, nudging Alaina awake. She glanced over at her husband, whose eyes were still closed, heavy with sleep.

      Quietly, she slid from bed and crept down the hall to check on the baby.

      Thomas greeted her with a chubby-cheeked smile.

      “Are you hungry, my love?” she cooed, picking him up out of bed. She sat with him in the rocker while he drank from the bottle. This was her favorite time of the day, just the two of them alone. She fed him and rocked him even though he was awake. She talked to him and sang to him. Time passed in a vacuum, a couple of hours sliding by in a beautiful haze.

      This was everything she’d always hoped motherhood would be. A calmness descended on her as she sat with Thomas. And a desire to crawl back into bed with Porter. To memorize all of his features. To hold these moments close so they couldn’t slip away like the others.

      Maybe it was time to start drawing again. A family portrait. She’d start with Porter. Capture the angles of his face, the strength in his chest. And the smile lines in his face. And somehow, maybe their years together would come rushing back as she revisited him.

      After finishing with Thomas, she

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