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The Billionaire's Christmas Baby(54)

By:Victoria James


“Is Emily sleeping?” His love for Emily had been the most unexpected realization. Not duty or obligation, but love. It had sort of snuck up on him when he was holding her or talking to her, and when Hannah had brought her to the office for a surprise visit, and Emily had spit up all over Ethan’s desk because she’d been so excited to see Jackson.

Hannah nodded. “Yup, but she should be waking up soon.”

“Do babies eat cookies?”

“No, babies don’t eat these.” She frowned at him. “Have you heard anything from Nicholas?”

His heart slammed painfully. Jackson shook his head. “No, but everything should be finalized by the end of the week. You know all this, Hannah. I’m next of kin, we’re married, and financially stable, and even our visit with the caseworker was perfect.” So far, Emily’s supposed father hadn’t even shown up. Nicholas agreed it was probably some desperate attempt by a junkie to get some money.

She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I’ll feel better once everything is signed and she’s ours. It’s always bothered me that Emily’s father is MIA.”

Jackson’s mouth went dry. “We are her parents.” In the last two weeks, living with Hannah and Emily had entrenched his determination to make legal what he knew in his heart to be true. There was no way in hell he’d allow someone to come in here and take away the family they were building together.

Hannah smiled at him. “You’re right.”

“Just hang tight.”

His stomach growled loudly and he made a beeline for the tray filled with cookies. Hannah laughed and held up her hand, blocking him.

“No way. You have to help me. And besides, these haven’t been decorated yet,” she said, carefully placing each cookie, one by one, on a cooling rack.

“What about these?” He picked up a box filled with red sparkly cookies.

Hannah pried the box from his hands. “Those are for Ethan. Bring them into the office tomorrow,” she said, placing the lid on the box.

“Why are you making Ethan cookies?”

Hannah sighed and adjusted her apron. He tried not to get distracted. He should just take that apron off.

“Because he called here a few minutes ago. I mentioned I was baking Christmas cookies and he asked if I could make some for him.”

“Ethan? My business partner?” Jackson didn’t think he’d ever seen Ethan eat a cookie.

She nodded, hands on her hips. “Apparently he likes red sprinkles.”

“Red sprinkles?”

She nodded, this time a smile breaking. “Yes.”

“He doesn’t need cookies. Ethan grew up with a slew of nannies and housekeepers and cooks. I, on the other hand, was just a poor, neglected boy, so the cookies are mine,” he said, laughing as Hannah shook her head. It was the first time he’d ever joked about his childhood.

“All right, Tiny Tim, roll up your sleeves and help me make these.”

“I don’t know anything about cookies, except eating them.”

“You afraid?”

Her hands were in the bowl and the batter looked thick and doughy. He was not one to back down from a challenge. “You’re the one who should be afraid,” he said, smiling as she laughed. He took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Evidently, he’d do anything for her.#p#分页标题#e#

“So what do I do?”

“We’re going to roll this out and then make different Christmas shapes. Since you don’t have any cookie cutters, we have to make them by hand.”

He frowned. “Christmas shapes?”

He watched as she rolled the dough until it was thin and smooth. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Christmas trees, bells, angels, you know, anything Christmas-y.”

“Right,” he said with a decisive nod. He grabbed a piece of the dough and concentrated on making a tree, while the sound of Christmas songs floated into the kitchen. Before Hannah, not one Christmas carol had ever been heard in his penthouse.

“What is that! That looks like some sort of alien!” Hannah’s shriek of laughter made Jackson look down at the cookie he was making. It did resemble an alien. He frowned and looked over at hers. Sure enough, she could make a perfectly shaped tree. He thought of something then, the memory of that night that now seemed so long ago.

“Hannah,” he said, grabbing her by the waist, not caring that both their hands were filled with cookie dough as she willingly stepped into his arms. “I’m sorry about those damn cookies,” he said gruffly, leaning down to capture her lips. She kissed him back easily and lovingly.