Christmas finally arrived, and with it, a rare snowstorm.

Mom had been busy all day, cooking and yelling at me because I kept eating all the marshmallows. She’d hauled several boxes of containers of yummies into my apartment, insisting having Christmas here because she’d noticed I wasn’t feeling well lately. She’d made quite a feast, even though there would only be the two of us—roast turkey with stuffing, mashed potatoes, several kinds of salad, sweet potato pie, pumpkin pie, and a Yule log. She was a superwoman.

And I just kept getting in the way, much to her annoyance.

“It’s a shame Rachel isn’t here with us,” Mom said as she set the table. The snow was falling heavily outside the window, our Christmas tree lights reflecting soft hues of green, red, and yellow in the giant flakes. “She always did love my cooking.”

“Too bad for her.” I reached for the plate of sugar cookies. “But that means I get to eat all of this.” With a wicked laugh, I munched on a cookie before Mom could stop me.

Anticipation filled my chest at what I was about to do. Mom had held down lots of jobs while raising me by herself— waitressing, cooking in diners, telemarketing. Later in life, she’d climbed the ranks to become sales manager at a trendy boutique store. Her dream was to own her own boutique store one day.

Today, I was going to make her dream a reality to help soften the news about my baby.

As soon as we sat down at the table, I immediately reached for several slices of turkey. They were tender and moist, and the cranberry sauce was heavenly.

“Why didn’t Andy come today?” Mom asked as she served me a slice of pie.

“I told him not to.”

“Well, that was rude.” She frowned in disapproval. “You know he doesn’t go home for Christmas.”

Andy didn’t get along with his family because of his stepdad. But that was no longer my problem to worry about.

“He’s not a kid, Mom. In fact, he knows more people than I do. I’ll bet he’s at a party right now, getting drunk on champagne and female attention.”

“Maybe I should put aside some food for him. In case he changes his mind and decides to drop by.”

She could be so stubborn sometimes. Nodding, I said, “Sure, why not? I’m sure he’d appreciate the care package.”

While she was busy in the kitchen, I pulled out an envelope from under the Christmas tree, excitement mixing with nerves to make me jittery. It was time to present my gift and break the news.

I prayed she wouldn’t faint twice.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said, holding out the envelope as she returned to the living room.

She looked startled for a second as she stared at the envelope. My previous Christmas gifts had been bulky scarves I’d knitted or some ludicrous hat slashed to half price.

“Oh, honey, you got me a gift certificate.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “Are you sure you can afford this?”

I cleared my throat, growing sweaty. “Um, sure. Why don’t you open it and take a look?”

It was a check for $500,000.

Mom didn’t faint, but she shouted as her knees gave way and she collapsed on the couch. “What is this?” Her hand trembled as she held up the check. “Did you go out and rob a bank? Commit insurance fraud? Or maybe win the lottery?”

“None of the above.” With a forced smile, I sat down beside her. “But I do have some news to tell you.”

Mom’s face turned white, as if she were expecting the worst kind of news.

I drew in a ragged breath. “I’m pregnant.”

I started from the beginning—how I met Denton, his proposal of a fake marriage, and his promise of a million dollars after six months. How I met his family and fell in love with them, especially Ernest.

And how I fell in love with Denton, my fake husband, who still couldn’t tell me if he had feelings for me or not.

“And now you’re having his child,” Mom said softly, her gaze falling to my stomach. “Does he know?”

I nodded. “I told him last week. He wanted us to stay married, but I said I didn’t want a marriage of convenience.”

“Oh, honey.” Mom paused, and it was obvious she wanted to give me some sage advice. “I respect your decision, and you’ll always have my support. But being a single parent was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. There were times when I would lie awake in bed, wishing I had a spouse to share my concerns with, someone who supported me.” When I didn’t reply, she added, “You want him to be in love with you. I understand that. But marriage is also a partnership. And it appears that’s what this young man is offering.”

Did I want too much? Because it sounded that way to my ears. Suddenly tired of this conversation, I switched my attention to the Christmas gift I’d given her.

“I know opening your own boutique will probably cost more than that.” I pointed at the check. “But it’ll help get you started. And you can apply for a business loan too.”

“It’s too much, Tiff. You should keep this money for the baby, just in case.”

“Or you could have a successful boutique and give me a managerial position there one day,” I replied as an alternative, laughing. “Or fully support my post-grad education by paying all the tuition?”

Mom joined me and laughed. “That sounds like a fair exchange.”

This evening was turning out better than I’d anticipated. Relieved at the outcome, I let my defenses down and settled at the table to finish my pie.

I was scarfing down my second slice when there was a loud knock on the front door. I glanced at Mom, surprised. “Did you invite someone over?”

She shook her head. “Maybe Andy changed his mind and decided to drop by.”

God, I hoped not. The last thing I needed was his melodramatic promises to take care of my baby. Unlike me, Mom might actually fall for his boy-next-door earnestness and charm.

She went to open the door as I scraped my plate clean. Today was a very good day—I hadn’t had a single bout of morning sickness, and my appetite was ravenous. I sneaked into the kitchen to chip a bit more off the turkey that was sitting on the island counter.

“Tiffany!” Mom called. “Come out here, please.”

Damn it. Couldn’t a pregnant woman just eat in peace?

I swallowed a bite of turkey and grumbled under my breath. Mom was standing at the door, talking to two gentlemen. When she glanced over her shoulder and moved aside, I gasped.

Instead of Andy, Denton and Ernest had dropped by for Christmas.