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

by Willa Nash

“On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me.” Tobias had always loved it in college when I’d make up stupid songs in the shower. He’d sneak into the bathroom and sit on the toilet to listen. He’d often scared the hell out of me when I’d pulled back the curtain and there he’d been, those blue eyes dancing at my ridiculous lyrics. “Eva, what the hell is⁠—” I held up a finger. “Three French hens. Two turtle doves.” I opened my eyes, slid my hand out of my pocket and threw the stick at him. Tobias snagged it from the air. “And a partridge and a pregnancy.”

There was a truck in the driveway, parked beside my space. My heart did a little flip. It always flipped for Tobias. I wasn’t sure why he was here, waiting on my porch. But it was nice to come home and not be alone.

“What would you put in a twenty-by-twenty bunker?” “Food. Water. My hunting rifle. Tools. Toilet paper.” “Tobias Practical Holiday.” He chuckled. “And what would you want in your twenty-by-twenty bunker?” “Wine. Chocolate. Books.” You.

If the world was ending, I’d want to be with Tobias. I’d want his arms around me through the scary nights. I’d want his strength to lean on when I felt like collapsing. I’d want his smile to brighten the dark days.

Why couldn’t she see how much sense we made? How good our life could be? How good we were together? I was a fucking fool. She’d leave me again. Just like she had before. This time, with my child.

“Fuck it.” I slammed my mouth on hers, my tongue sweeping inside. I devoured her, exploring her mouth, memorizing every corner. I held her to me, hoping that if I held tight enough, this might all make sense. She broke away first, her eyes hooded and her lips swollen. Fuck, but I wanted her. I wanted her for good. To keep. But she wasn’t mine. She was her own woman. That was what Eddy had called her that night years ago. Her own woman. So I took one step away. Then another. And this time, I made it to my bedroom without looking back.

“Why hasn’t he asked us to stay?” I whispered, sliding a hand across my belly. The baby didn’t have an answer. Neither did I.

“An ultimatum,” she whispered, her eyes flooding. “I can’t believe you just gave me an ultimatum. You know what I wished for earlier? That you’d ask me to stay.” My heart stopped. “But you didn’t. Not before. Not now. You’ve never asked me to stay.” And judging by the tone in her voice, now it was too late. “You broke my fucking heart.” “Then I guess tonight makes us even.” She swallowed hard. “Happy New Year, Tobias.” The sound of her slamming door echoed through the house. I stood frozen, immobilized by the pain. She hated me.