A Partridge and a Pregnancy (Holiday Brothers, #3)

by Willa Nash

When I looked at her, she was the mother I wanted to be someday.

I was having a baby. Oh, God. I was having a baby. Maybe he or she would have my hazel eyes. Maybe Tobias’s straight nose and soft lips. The idea of a miniature Tobias Holiday put a small smile on my face.

“What do you mean?” “I mean, we didn’t have to talk. You could look at me and, most days, know exactly what I was thinking or how I was feeling. It was always . . . easy.”

“It’s my identity,” I told him. “I’m not sure who I am without it anymore. It saved me when I was at my lowest. And it’s more than the money, it’s my pride.”