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  Editing: There for You Editing

  ©Copyright 2020 Shyla Colt

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Dedication | To everyone chasing your dream, it’s okay to rest, but never stop.

  ’Tis The Season | Shyla Colt

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Dedication

  To everyone chasing your dream, it’s okay to rest, but never stop.

  ’Tis The Season

  Shyla Colt

  Prologue

  Faye

  I do my best to ignore my aching back and pulsing heels. Night shift can be a breeze or brutal. The E.R. hadn’t slowed down from the moment I signed in at eleven. Some days are like that. I can’t wait to get out of my filthy scrubs. This job has its disgusting moments, but someone has to do it. It’s not my usual rotation, but I swapped with Simone, who needed the night off to attend her sister’s wedding. Part of me missed nights in the E.R., but the other, saner portion of my brain enjoys the ability to live a normal life. Working nights makes you feel like a zombie.

  Turning the corner, I smile at the sight that greets me. Preston hasn’t seen me yet. It’s not often our paths cross purposefully. We don’t want people to think he’s playing favorites because he’s the attending doctor with me, his fiancée working as a nurse beneath him. My heart picks up a tick as I take him in. He’s a Viking, all long, golden mane, broad shoulders, and icy blue eyes.

  “Does she know about this promotion?” Dr. Stevenson asks.

  I pause. They haven’t noticed me. It sounds like the news he’s holding onto is a secret. Not wanting to ruin anything, I slip into a side corridor.

  “No. Faye knows who makes the big money in our relationship. Nurses are important, but their role is supportive. As my wife, her first job is me.”

  My jaw drops. I’ve never heard Preston speak like this before. He always seemed so open-minded and considerate of my needs and desires.

  “Does she know you feel that way? Faye doesn’t seem the type to go for that.”

  Preston scoffs. “Our wedding is in three months. What’s she going to do, refuse to move to California? The money is three times better. She can be a nurse anywhere, and soon enough, we’ll have kids, so she’ll stay at home.”

  My heart pounds in my chest. Nursing is my purpose in life. I never had any plans of being a stay-at-home mother. My gut clenches. Suddenly, our entire courtship becomes a lie. He’d put up a front for over a year and a half. The blood rushes to my head. Slumping against the wall, I close my eyes. My breathing increases. A life I hate stretches before me—glittering and gold from the outside, and hell on the inside.

  He wants to take me away from a job I love, isolate me from my family and friends, and force me into a mold he thinks is perfect. Not only did he neglect to tell me he was applying for this, he didn’t even ask my opinion on a move. How long has he hidden this? When does he need to report to his new job? A million questions rise up in my head.

  “No.” My hands ball into fists as indignation fuels me. I push off the wall, abandoning my habit of being non-confrontational. Damn the money we’ll lose. This is my life.

  I march out toward him, furious. Anger has my eyes filling with tears as my chest tightens painfully. Breathing heavily, I know I must look like an extra from a horror movie.

  Dr. Stevenson’s eyes widen.

  Preston turns and peers at me. “Sweetheart.”

  “How dare you?”

  “We should really take this somewhere else.” He grabs my wrist, and I pull away, not about to be silenced to keep his reputation intact.

  “You had your time to talk about this in private. Now you get to listen. We are done.” I remove the two-karat, princess cut diamond from my ring finger.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Escaping while I can.” I shove the ring into his pocket and stalk toward the nurses’ locker room.

  “What? That’s ridiculous! The wedding is in three months. You can’t just call it off.”

  Ignoring him, I quicken my steps. He grabs my wrist, and I spin around. Desperate to flee, I grab the only non-lethal weapon I have. I remove the packaged square from my lab coat and fling the sanitary napkin in his face. He releases my hand to bat it away, and I throw two more like ninja stars before I run. My rubber soles slap the linoleum as the tears fall, splattering onto my work clothes as my dreams for the future shatter.

  Chapter One

  Faye

  I nurse the one mug of coffee I’m allowed every day as my daughter swims happily inside of my belly. The faint flutters have turned to something more substantial as I move toward my sixth month.

  “I know, this is the highlight of my morning, too,” I agree.

  Leaning against the counter, I take in the open plan of the condo. The velvet, blue couch and matching chair with a footstool is a splash of brightness that stands out against the walls’ standard beige. The only room I bothered to have painted was the baby’s. I’d opted for a soft sage green that worked for either sex because I’d only been a few months along. I was on a tight budget and determined not to depend on Preston for funds. Because I knew the pompous bastard would use it against me. I grimace as thoughts of my ex float to the surface of my sleep-addled brain. How had I been so blind to his serious faults?

  The condo is finally beginning to feel like home. After packing up my things with Preston protesting and calling me silly every step of the way, I moved in with my big brother, Warren, while I weighed out my options. My missed period sped up my timetable and snapped me out of my funk. It’s incredible what knowing you’re responsible for another living soul’s future will do. I twiddle my feet in the soft, fleece-lined house shoes, and trail my fingers down the soft material of my pink robe covered in coffee mugs. The sensation grounds me as I stop the negative thoughts trying to form like a storm cloud. Browbeating myself won’t change my past.

  Ding. The bagel pops up from the toaster. After setting down my mug, I pluck the crusty, warm pieces from their slots and slather them with the brown sugar cream cheese waiting on the counter. Adding the pre-sliced strawberries, I satisfy my recently developed sweet tooth while staying healthy. Closing my eyes as the flavors explode on my taste buds, I groan. Have I ever tasted food the way I do now? It’s like the hormones have expanded my senses. Or perhaps, it slowed me down enough to fully enjoy them. Except for my libido. Heat floods my cheeks. If anything, it’d cranked my horniness up to eleven. I expected my B.O.B. to break down any minute. Lord knew I went through enough batteries to personally fund Duracell.

  Once I finish my breakfast, I clean up, then saunter—because I refuse to believe I’d reached the waddling stage yet—to my shower. Hot water and lilac shower steamers w
ork wonders to clear my mind and soothe the usual aches that comes with growing a child. After toweling off, I slather my body with cocoa butter and put on my skinny jeans and a long-sleeve, white shirt that highlights my baby bump and new breasts. I’d gone from a B cup to a C cup without surgery. That was a miracle to be celebrated. Slipping my arms into the angular, gray cardigan with fringed edges, I leave the top unbuttoned.

  Turning sideways, I smile into the mirror and snap a photo. There may be faint circles under my eyes, but my honey skin is glowing. I want to document what may be my only pregnancy. Other than a severe bout of morning sickness the first two months, it’d been smooth sailing. But the thought of trusting a man again with not just my heart but my daughter’s feels unlikely. Plenty of single mothers lead a happy, self-reliant life. It wasn’t what I pictured, but I’m nothing if not adaptable.

  I smooth cream under my eyes to hide the lack of sleep I’d gotten the previous night. Appointments always put me a little on edge. The knock on the door announced the devil I can’t shake. Think of the devil, and he will appear.

  Sighing, I slip my phone into my back pocket and slowly walk to the front door. I open it to reveal the blond-haired giant whose piercing blue eyes and perfect bone structure do nothing for me any longer. Clad in a wool coat with an expensive cashmere scarf wound around his neck, he could’ve stepped out of a magazine.

  “You must be spending a fortune on airfare.” I step back, and he walks in, stomping to shake the snow off his boots.

  “Hello to you, too.” The smoldering look that once made me cave during arguments amuses me now. He looks like an overgrown, petulant child. “How long are you going to play this game?”

  “I’m not playing.”

  He ignores me, continuing on as he shrugs off his coat. “The baby is going to be here sooner rather than later.”

  “I know. That’s why we should settle the custody agreement like I keep asking.”

  Scoffing, he unlaces his boots. “How many times do I have to apologize?”

  “You don’t, since it’s a waste of our time and your breath.”

  He huffs, and I hold up my hand. “I saw your true colors, Preston, and it wasn’t just ugly. It was horrifying and abusive. You aren’t the man I thought you were. No,” I shake my head, “that you pretended to be. I will never keep you from our daughter, but I want nothing to do with you romantically.”

  “You’re going to let two years go up in smoke?”

  “Yes, because I can’t help but wonder what else you lied about.”

  He splutters like water went down the wrong way. “Don’t you think you’re over the top?”

  “No, I don’t,” I reply.

  He likes to play on my emotions and make me seem as if I’m throwing a tantrum and being childish. My points are valid. I won’t let him shake my belief in myself.

  “Us separate but civil is what’s best for her.” I rub my belly, taking strength from the innocent life I vowed to protect.

  “No, you want to punish me. What’s best for her is a two-parent home where she won’t want for anything and will get the attention she deserves. What are you going to do? Shove her in daycares all the time?”

  It’s a low blow. I glance away.

  “Plenty of people use daycare.”

  “Because they have no choice. You do. Why wouldn’t you want to give our child every advantage?”

  His words make me feel selfish. I toy with the fringe on my cardigan. Is he right?

  “Marriage, to me, is a partnership. It requires compromise, honesty, and trust. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

  He reaches out and cups my face. “Didn’t I take care of you?”

  “Yes,” I answer, honestly.

  “Did you ever want for anything?” He forces my gaze up to meet his.

  “No,” I whisper hoarsely as my mouth dries out.

  “And you were happy, weren’t you? We were in love and about to get married, Faye.”

  “I thought I was. Now I’m not so sure.” What we had was pleasant. I felt secure and content. But was that love?

  “Bullshit. It’s not like I cheated.” His snarl makes me jump. “I was good to you, and I’m getting tired of this stubbornness you’ve decided to develop.”

  Had I really been such a pushover with him?

  Keys jingle, and the lock turns in the tumbler. The door swings open to reveal my brother bursting in like a bull about to wreck china. I’ve never been so ecstatic to see Warren. My brother looks at us and stands to his full six-foot-two.

  “You’re back bugging my sister again, I see.”

  Preston wrinkles his nose as if he smells something foul. “It’s time for her doctor’s appointment. I want to see Brigitte.”

  “That’s not going to be her name,” Warren replies.

  “It sure as hell won’t be Flora.”

  “You seem real certain, considering I’m the one who has to push her out.” I take strength from my brother’s presence.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Preston asks, frustrated.

  “I became a mother. I have a being to try my best not to screw up. That changed me.”

  “Your hormones are making you irrational.”

  Warren growls. “Don’t do that.” He steps in front of me, forcing Preston to take a step back.

  “What? Tell her the truth?” Preston huffs.

  “Screw with her mind. I saw you do it all the time before. But you were so good at downplaying it. You must be desperate because you’re getting sloppy with your manipulation. She seemed happy, and you weren’t around enough for me to really make up my mind about you. Now everything has changed. I see you for the parasite you are. I can’t chase you off because of Flora, but I’m here to make sure you don’t bully your way into getting what you want. You have no power here anymore.”

  Preston eyes my brother coldly. “We’ll see.”

  Warren tenses, and I slip between the two of them. “Hey.” I snap my fingers, and they look down at me. “Don’t let him get under your skin, War. Preston, keep in mind allowing you to come with me to my appointments is a courtesy. One I can rescind.”

  Preston’s jaw tenses. I can see the barely concealed rage boiling inside of him. What would life with this man have looked like? I thank God I won’t have to find out.

  “I’LL BE HERE THROUGH Christmas if you change your mind about visiting with Mom and Dad.”

  “I think it’d be uncomfortable for all of us.”

  “Are you going to keep Bri— the baby away from them?”

  “No, but she’s not here yet.”

  “Fine.” He sighs. “Merry Christmas then.”

  “Merry Christmas, Preston.” I watch him walk toward his car, and my heart aches. This isn’t how I envisioned my pregnancy. I was supposed to be married and anticipating this with the rest of my family. My parents think I’m unrealistic. After a life spent working their fingers to the bone, security isn’t something to be tossed aside over a misunderstanding. They want me to reconcile with Preston. Their disapproval weighs heavily on me.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m not sure.” I tilt my head back and peer up at my brother through misty eyes.

  “Believe me, you lucked up, finding out what he’s really like now. Once he had you across the country in California, it would’ve been next to impossible to leave him.”

  “I’m glad you see it my way.”

  “Look, Mom and Dad just need time. They’re only looking at the financial aspect.”

  I sigh. “We’re not even going to be together because there’s too much tension between us, War. That’s my fault.”

  “No. It’s our parents’ fault for being so old-fashioned. Listen, I have a special gift for you.”

  “You do?” I ask, cheering up.

  “I do. Come on.” Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he guides me away from the doctor’s office and the mess I’ve yet to figure out. He pulls up in front of a pet store, and I frow
n.

  “What are we doing here, War?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.”

  We exit the car and walk into the shop.

  “Warren, you’re back. Is this your sister?” The brown-eyed beauty with a head full of coarse black curls is a little too excited to see us.

  How long has my brother been visiting ... I squint at her nametag, Riley?

  “This is Faye. Riley here has been instrumental in arranging this surprise for you.”

  I smile. “You don’t say?”

  He flashes me a pleading glance that makes me choke back a giggle.

  “I just gave him a few pointers. Are you ready for the grand reveal?” Riley grins.

  “Yes?” I glance from Riley to Warren.

  “I’ll be right back.” Riley walks away from the register and disappears through a door that leads into the back. A few moments later, she returns with a large, red present with gold stars and a gold ribbon. The lid pops off. A tiny beagle with floppy ears and a small muzzle hangs over the edge of the box, attempting to escape. It yips, and my heart lurches.

  “This little guy is ready to be taken to his new home,” Riley says.

  “With me?” I ask.

  “Yes. He’s waiting for a name.”

  I walk over to the box. “Hi.” He yips and licks my nose, making me laugh.

  “He’ll be good company, and young enough to grow up with Flora.”

  “Do you want to go home with me, sweet boy?” I scratch behind his ears, and he opens his mouth wide in a puppy smile. “Yeah, you do.” I lift him up into my arms. He snuggles into my neck, and my heart is gone. Any thoughts of extra responsibility being a bad thing vanishes. There is no way I’m letting this adorable puppy go back into that cold, steel prison and wait for someone else to take him home.

  I smile up at Warren, who laughs. “I think we can safely assume she loves him.”

  “How could I not?” I sway back and forth as my maternal instincts fly into hyperdrive. “What’s your name, buddy, huh?” I stroke his short fur, giving him scratches. “You’re so cuddly. Monty.”