Josh smiled at me, the Christmas tree lights glowing softly on his face. Did I mention he was shirtless?

And wearing only his briefs?

Then he got down on one knee.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Mentally cursing the bloody clock, my eyes still closed, I slammed my hand around my nightstand…until I murdered the noise.

And since it had prematurely ended the dream, I considered murdering the clock too.

I pushed myself out of bed—not that my body agreed with that thanks to my cold that had begun the other day. But it didn’t matter what my body wanted. I had to go into work for a few hours before I was officially off for the next three days.

Why wasn’t I spending Christmas with my family in Australia? I mean, ignoring the part about my mum being mad at me. Flying that far when you were thirty-three weeks pregnant was never a good idea. Instead, I would be spending Christmas dinner with Trent and Erin’s family. And yes, Kelsey would be there too, which was an added bonus.

Where was Josh going to be? He was flying to Connecticut in a few hours to spend Christmas with his grandparents.

I swear by the time I was finished showering, there was barely any hot water left. On the bright side, I was temporarily able to breathe again because of the steam. Always an added bonus.

I changed into my clothes and groaned as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My skin was pale, but my nose still looked like it could’ve guided Santa’s sleigh tonight—if Rudolf hadn’t already signed up for the job.

The worst part? I wasn’t allowed to take anything to make me feel better. All medications were off limits. So I did the only thing I could—I put on my makeup and hoped I didn’t look as bad as I felt.

But it didn’t take long to realize that plan had been a big pregnant bust.

“Why on earth are you working today?” Gladys asked as I walked into the Bristol Mathews reception area. She was our five-years-past-retirement-age receptionist who we couldn’t live without.

“I didn’t take the day off.” It sounded like a good answer to me.

“But, hun, you’re sick, and you need to rest up for the baby.” Did I mention Gladys had six kids—and a hockey team’s worth of grandchildren?

“It’s only a half day, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.” At least that was what I said in my head. It didn’t quite come out that way thanks to my merry-crap-tastic congestion.

“Well make sure you drink plenty of fluids.”

Right. Because on top of my agenda for the day was to spend most of the morning peeing in the loo. “I’ll be sure to do that,” I said with as much of a smile as I could muster.

Thirty minutes later, Trent strolled into my office—interrupting my delightful morning of attempting to read a business report between the frequent rounds of nose blowing.

“Shit, Holly. You look awful.”

“It’s a goddamn miracle you have a girlfriend, mate—what with the way you sweep a girl off her feet.”

His mouth jerked up to one side. “Has anyone ever told you you’re cranky when you’re sick? Because if they haven’t, let me be the first.…” Risking his life, he sat down on the other side of the desk. “Besides, the last I heard, I wasn’t the one who swept you off your feet. And while we’re at it, I do plenty of feet sweeping when it comes to Kelsey.”

That I didn’t doubt.

“But you shouldn’t be here,” he continued. “You should be at home, resting.”

I snorted. “Now you sound like Gladys.”

“That’s because Gladys and I are brilliant—and you know it.”

I rolled my eyes, mostly because it was true but I didn’t want to admit it. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a half day, and then I’ll go home and rest up for tomorrow.…But maybe I shouldn’t go to your parents’ tomorrow. I don’t want to risk Samantha getting sick.” And I was sure Erin and Samantha would appreciate it too.

“But it’s Christmas. You can’t spend tomorrow on your own. That’s just not right.”

“I won’t be alone,” I said.

A puzzled frown creased his forehead. “You won’t be? I thought Josh was flying to Boston today.”

“He is. But Julie Andrews is available anytime I need her. And what better way to spend Christmas than with a Julie Andrews movie marathon?”

“Sounds like fun,” he said with a smirk.

“It will be—and you’re just jealous you’re missing out on it.”

He threw back his head in laughter. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that. But remember, the offer is still open for tomorrow. We’ll just make sure Sammy is in a hazmat suit.”

“And I’m sure she’ll look adorable in it.” Was the sarcasm noticeable even with my stuffy nose?

Soon after Trent left my office, my phone pinged with a text from Josh.

How’s the sexy momma doing today?

Ha! Not looking too sexy right now. You’re definitely not missing out on anything. Have a good flight!

You shouldn’t be at work. You should be at home, looking after yourself.

How did he know I was at work? Oh, yeah, where else would I be?

I’ll be home soon enough. Then Julie Andrews and I have a hot date planned for tonight and tomorrow. It’s going to be epic.

Sounds it.

I know. Aren’t you sorry you’ll be missing out? lol

A knock at my open door jerked my attention away from my phone. I returned it to my desk as I said, “Come in,” to Gladys.

She entered carrying a mug. “I made you a warm drink with lemon juice and honey. It’s safe for the baby, and it will help with the cough and congestion.”

“Thank you,” I said, glad for anything that made me feel even the tiniest bit better.

I took the mug from her and sipped the heated drink.

She handed me a piece of paper. “This is the recipe. You should drink it throughout the day. It will also help to keep you hydrated. Very important for fighting a cold.”

“Thanks.” And a trip to the grocery store after work was now on the agenda.

She left me with my drink, my report, and my thoughts. My pesky thoughts about how much I missed Josh. I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, four days ago. The team had been away on a pre-Christmas road trip.

The good news? They weren’t scheduled for any more until the new year.

The not-so-good news? Josh would be in Boston until December twenty-seventh.

But if I was lucky, by the time he returned my cold would have vanished and I could give him his Christmas present.

In the new black lacy slip that was practically see through.

Even Santa’s elf couldn’t top that.

“Okay,” Trent said, barging into my office a few minutes past noon. “You’ve been here long enough. Time to go home. And if you don’t leave now, I’ll drag you home kicking and screaming if I have to.”

Noah kicked in agreement. Traitor.

I released a long breath—which when you were thirty-three weeks pregnant wasn’t as long as you would like. “All right. You win. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll go willingly. No kicking or screaming required. And you won’t need to drag me home either. I’ll drive myself.”

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.”

I didn’t need that much time in the end.

By the way—what’s the worst time of the year to hit the grocery store?

Based on how crazy things were at the one I stopped at, you’d think everyone was getting ready for a zombie apocalypse.

I spent forty minutes in the store just to buy lemon juice and a container of honey. Oh, and there might have been a package of brownies and a new can of whipping cream in the basket too—for those three-o’clock-in-the-morning, emergency brownie cravings.

The latest food that I couldn’t survive without.

As I stepped onto my floor in my apartment building, a faint yet delicious smell greeted me. The same smell, only a little stronger, also greeted me when I opened my apartment door.

People didn’t break into apartments and take the time to cook the victim a meal before offing them, right?

Because someone was definitely in my kitchen.

Cooking.

“G’day?” I called out, still standing in the doorway. “Is someone here?”

A rapid heartbeat later, Josh stepped from the kitchen. Which did nothing for my heartbeat—except now it was beating fast for a different reason.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the plane to Boston?” I whispered as he walked toward me. He had to be a mirage. A cold-induced mirage.

“I changed my mind.” He took my hand and led me to the living room.

“But why? I thought you were looking forward to seeing your grandparents.”

He indicated for me to sit on the couch. “Do you really think I could go anywhere when you’re so sick?”

“It’s a cold, Josh—not the bubonic plague.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re supposed to be taking it easy for both yours and Noah’s sake.”

“I am taking it easy,” I said through my stuffy nose. Then coughed a really sexy, phlegm-laden noise. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything”—because I was. More than he could ever imagine—“but aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

“If I get sick, I’ll deal with it. Anyway, I told my grandmother why I couldn’t make it for Christmas. She was more concerned about you and her great-grandchild. So she emailed her chicken noodle soup recipe, which is bound to help you feel ‘right as rain’ in no time. Her words, not mine.”

I laughed, which probably sounded worse than it normally did, then covered my mouth. Sparing him from the agony of listening to it. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“For laughing. I know it’s kind of a turnoff.” Which was why I couldn’t believe he was still around. But if it weren’t for the baby, he wouldn’t be. He’d be busy with puck bunnies and whatever.

He didn’t laugh or smirk. He smiled as though I was being funny. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think your laugh is cute.”

I made a funny noise—which under any other circumstance that didn’t involve a cold would be a snorted laugh. “If I wasn’t already highly acquainted with your singing voice, I’d say you’re tone-deaf.”

“Anyway,” he said, ignoring me, “she emailed me the recipe for her famous chicken noodle soup, and I made you some. Stay here.” He left me on the couch and returned a minute later carrying a tray with a bowl of the world’s most delicious smelling soup. Even with my stuffy nose I could smell it.

He lowered the tray onto the coffee table and handed me the bowl and spoon. Careful not to burn myself, I sampled some. Did it taste as great as it smelled? No. It tasted to the nth power better.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“No, I’m the best boyfriend ever because I’m planning to stay and watch the Julie Andrews movie marathon with you.” He winked at me and left me on the couch, to return a short time later with his own bowl of soup, French bread, and an assortment of my favorite cheeses. He set them on the coffee table.

And that wasn’t all.

He handed me a mug of something that looked suspiciously like the honey and lemon drink Gladys had made me. “Trent emailed me the recipe. He said the receptionist insisted I make it for you while you’re sick.”

“You braved the grocery store Christmas Eve day just for me?” I asked in my God-you’re-so-sweet tone.

“Of course. So which movie are we watching first?”

“Have you ever seen The Princess Diaries?”

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” he said with a smirk, and I chuckled.

“Since it’s already Christmas in Australia,” I said, “I should call my family first.”

Chris wasn’t staying in Sydney over the holidays—being the family black sheep that he was. He and his single mates had gone to Brisbane.

I called him first.

“Merry Christmas, sis,” he said. “And how’s my favorite nephew doing?” His only nephew.

“He’s doing great so far and kicking lots.”

“Sounds like you have yourself a future football star, not a hockey player,” he said.

Were he and Simon still calling Josh the Sperm Donor?

Not at all. That ended right after I joined Chris in the land of black sheep. If anything, my brothers tended to call him just to check up on me, and the three of them had become friends.

Would my brothers whip Josh’s arse if he did anything to hurt me?

You’d better believe it. That much hadn’t changed.

We chatted for a few minutes—until my congestion kicked in and I could no longer talk. I handed Josh the phone, at Chris’s request, and left to hit the loo.

Josh had finished talking to him by the time I returned. He didn’t say anything about the call—just kissed me on the forehead and waited while I called Simon.

“Mum showed me Noah’s ultrasound picture,” Simon told me after we had been chatting for a few minutes. “As far as I can tell, he’s gonna be quite the handsome little ankle biter. Definitely takes after his favorite uncle.”

“She did?” I said, not really hearing what he had told me after the first part. Even though I knew what she thought about my pregnancy, I had sent her and Dad a copy of the ultrasound picture. On the back I had written, Noah wishes you a Merry Christmas!

I had included it with a Christmas card from me and Josh but figured she had probably ripped it up and tossed it in the trash.

“Yes,” Simon said. “And I think she’s coming around. About the baby, I mean.”

That was hard to believe.

“One of my colleagues is having a baby,” he went on to say. “Or at least his wife is. And he said babies can hear voices from outside the mum’s stomach.”

“That’s true.”

“So can I talk to Noah?”

My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “You mean right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

I hiked up my top, revealing my belly, increased the volume on the phone, and placed it near my belly button. “Okay, you can talk to Noah now.”

“Hey, little mate,” Simon said. “I’m your super-cool Uncle Simon. I know you’ll probably think Chris is cooler because he can fly helicopters—and I guess that is pretty cool, if heights don’t scare you.” Simon wasn’t a fan of heights. “But I can teach you all kinds of things that Uncle Chris can’t. Like surfing.”

After he finished speaking to Noah, we talked for a short while longer, then ended the call.

Next up? Calling my parents.

But because talking to my brothers had taken so much out of me, Josh and I watched The Princess Diaries first.

Afterward, I did the one thing I’d been dreading the most for the past couple of days. I pulled Mum up from my contact list and tapped on Call.

Why Mum and not Dad?

Maybe because if I didn’t phone her first, I’d chicken out.

“Holly?” Mum’s voice sounded uncertain as she answered.

“I wanted to wish you and Dad a Merry Christmas.” Hopefully she understood what I’d said. Thanks to my cold, even my brothers hadn’t understood everything I’d told them.

Naturally, they thought it was funny.

“Merry Christmas to you.” She still sounded uncertain. “How are you and Noah doing?”

Noah? Not the baby?

Did I know what to make of it? Had the Titanic been hit by an ice cube?

“We’re doing fine. He’s kicking a lot. I think he’s just excited to see his bedroom, which Josh decorated for him.” I smiled at my sweet and wonderful boyfriend next to me on the couch.

“So you’re still with him—the football player?” Her tone was derision free. Another surprise.

“Hockey, Mum. Josh plays ice hockey.”

“Right. Is that a yes?”

“Yes, that’s a yes.”

“Are you two getting married?” Again her tone was neutral.

Since I knew his opinion on the topic of marriage, I simply said, “No.”

Truth? I would’ve had a better answer if my head wasn’t about to explode from congestion.

Never a pleasant way to go.

Mom was silent for a moment before saying, “You know, if things don’t work out between you two, you can always move back here. Then you’ll have someone around to help you. Lots of someones. Me. Your brothers. Your father.”

The surprising part? She actually sounded like she meant it.

“Thanks, but I really do love it here and I have a great job.” And somehow, I would make everything work.

Feeling a sneeze steamrolling toward me, I grabbed a tissue just in time. “Achoo!”

And for a millisecond, my brain didn’t feel so clogged.

Too bad the joyful sensation didn’t last long.

“I’ve got to go now, Mum,” I said, although I was positive I didn’t have to tell her I was dying and wished to do so sooner rather than later. Preferably while watching The Sound of Music.

We said our good-byes, and I promised to keep her updated about Noah and me.

Disappointed? Were you expecting some grand gesture from my mum to mend the fractured bridges between us?

Fortunately, I knew her better than that. For her, everything she had said and the fact she had shown Simon the ultrasound was a grand gesture.

While I went to the loo again, Josh made dinner for us. What was on the menu?

More chicken noodle soup (because that was all I wanted to eat) and spaghetti and meatballs (mostly for Josh).

And for dessert?

You guessed it—brownies and whipped cream.

But not just any brownies. These came from Maggie’s Bakery, which was well-known for their super-chocolaty brownies. They were easily the best brownies in the entire universe.

Boyfriend brownie points earned so far? Well, the dessert alone was worth at least two thousand. Between that, the soup, the Julie Andrews movie marathon, Josh staying in San Francisco instead of flying out east for Christmas, and what he did for Noah’s room, he had enough points to last him a few years short of an eternity.

Not that I was about to tell him.

We ate dinner while watching Mary Poppins—because there was no better movie around to teach you about hiring a nanny.

By the time we were finished, I was surprised Josh hadn’t left the apartment screaming from OD’ing on Miss Andrews. To make it up to him, I let him pick whatever he wanted to watch on Netflix.

At some point I fell asleep, my head on his shoulder—positive life couldn’t get much better than this.

Eventually, my super-comfy pillow moved and I stirred awake.

“Hey, Merry Christmas,” Josh said softly.

I peered through tired eyes at the DVD clock. Midnight.

Using Josh’s arm as leverage, I pushed myself up to sit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long have I been sleeping for?”

“An hour and a half.”

“You didn’t watch any more Julie Andrews movies while I was sleeping, did you?” I said, with barely enough energy to give him a half smirk.

“No, I figured you’d kill me if I did.”

“Damn straight I would.”

Josh kissed my forehead. “All right, sleepyhead. Let’s get you to bed.” He started to move off the couch.

“Not yet. I want you to open your present from me.”

Like a young kid on Christmas morning, his face brightened. “Well, considering it’s Christmas in Australia, I can go for that.”

Several presents sat under the tree, but there was one gift that hadn’t been there before. A gift that was slightly larger than a ring box.

Josh removed the present and handed it to me. “Merry Christmas.”

I shuffled over to the tree and picked up my present to Josh, my hand shaking slightly.

You know how some people love finding the perfect gift? That wasn’t me.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved giving presents. But the idea of trying to find the perfect gift left me longing to hibernate until Christmas was over.

Josh looked at me expectantly, and I carefully unwrapped the gift. Once the paper had been removed, I was left holding a velvet covered box.

Even though the box was slightly too big to be a ring, that didn’t stop my heart from hammering Jingle Bells against my ribs—but at a much faster tempo.

I opened the box and gasped at the gorgeous silver butterfly necklace resting against the black velvet. The delicate wings were created with various swirls and scrolls.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. If I wasn’t so sick, I would have shown him how much I loved it. “Thank you.”

Was I disappointed it wasn’t an engagement ring?

Maybe a little. The romantic side of me, which would’ve preferred to be married than be a single mom, had been hoping he would get down on his knee and propose. My practical side rolled its eyes at that.

I was in love with him, but I wasn’t sure if he was in the same place. I didn’t want to get married just because he believed it was the right thing to do for Noah.

“Your turn,” I said, indicating at the gift in his hand.

He ripped off the wrapping and tossed it aside. Then his eyes went wide at the picture on the box.

A 1958 Chevy Impala model kit.

“The man in the store said it was challenging.” It was Josh’s preferred style of model—both challenging and a classic car.

“I love it. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect.…” He hugged me. “Now how about I get you to bed?” He kissed my cheek, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat.

Once we were in bed, he snuggled up to me. I was in that state between here and there, when you weren’t sure if you were awake or already asleep. Where come morning, none of what happened during those few blissful moments would be remembered—or if it was, you were convinced it had been nothing more than a dream.

As exhaustion pulled me deeper, Josh murmured what might have possibly been, “I love you, Holly.”