Holidays with the Professor

  ALEXA PADGETT

  SIDECAR PRESS, INC.

  Copyright © 2023 by Alexa Padgett

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Charity Chimni

  Cover design by Chris Philpot

  For my lovely readers. Without you, I couldn’t keep writing. I cherish each of your messages and am absolutely thrilled to call many of you friends.

  Happy holidays and good cheer throughout the year!

  -xoxo-

  Alexa

  Contents

  About Holidays with the Professor

  1. Libby

  2. Jamieson

  3. Libby

  4. Jamieson

  5. Libby

  6. Jamieson

  7. Libby

  8. Jamieson

  9. Libby

  10. Jamieson

  11. Libby

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Alexa Padgett

  In his world of numbers, Libby’s presence turned his life into an unexpected calculation of love, grief, and second chances.

  Professor Jamieson Finch, renowned for his academic brilliance, must confront the variables of life after tragedy thrusts him into single parenthood. When Libby, a determined grad student, enters his world, the equation shifts again.

  Their connection is as undeniable as the mathematics they adore. With the holiday season approaching, the timing for a romance is imperfect…and forbidden. Dare Jamieson and Libby embrace the chance for a love that defies all odds?

  This heartwarming holiday novella overflows with cheer and the transformative power of two lonely souls uniting to create an unexpected family. “Holidays with the Professor” is a story of hope, healing, and the magic of love during the most wonderful time of the year.

  CHAPTER 1

  Libby

  Hudson whimpered as he shifted in his car seat, a slight grimace tugging at his tiny brows. I tensed.

  No, please don’t wake up. Not yet…not here! I held my breath as I silently begged him, too afraid to shift my foot over and rock his carrier even.

  Please, please, please….

  I don’t know why I bothered. My infant son never listened. He was adorable, sweet, already smiling whenever he saw me, but he was a terrible sleeper. Worse yet, he seemed to have a sixth sense when something was important to me…and he fussed, clearly not liking my attention on anything—or anyone—else.

  Like this lecture with this professor. I moved my pen to my left hand, which meant I wouldn’t be able to read any notes I tried to take while I rocked the car seat in gentle, soothing motions that sometimes relaxed Hudson back to sleep.

  He whimpered again, a bit louder, and a cold flop of sweat erupted from my pores. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry…

  I glanced around, my heart pounding. A few students had turned to see where the annoyance was coming from.

  I peeked up at the professor—the premier guest lecturer who’d agreed to teach a series here for the semester, an absolute coup for our program, for the university’s students. But he was known to be temperamental, mercurial, even.

  And he did not like to be interrupted. Ever.

  I eased my shaking left hand off my notepad and packed up my things with clumsy speed, my heart heavy with frustration. Not at Hudson. It wasn’t his fault. This whole situation was mine.

  Just as I got my notepad into my bag, Hudson’s tiny back bowed, and his face turned redder—possibly redder than mine. He screamed as I grabbed his car seat and tried to wrangle my backpack from the chair.

  “I’m so sorry,” I muttered, face flaming, unable to meet the eyes of my nearest classmates. I hurried into the aisle and up the stairs that led to the closest exit.

  “Gawd. Bringing a baby to class. What an absolute loser,” the girl behind me sneered.

  I hadn’t planned to have Hudson with me tonight. I never wanted to bring Hudson to class, but my roommate was sick. I hadn’t been able to find a sitter on less than an hour’s notice. Not that the girl who’d commented on me knew any of that…or cared.

  Sweat made my hands slippery, so I heaved Hudson’s heavy carrier onto my forearm as tears pressed against my lids. This class was necessary for me to complete my degree. I’d already postponed last semester and taken a leave of absence the previous semester to deal with the fallout from Hudson’s birth and the trauma surrounding it. I was so damn close to my goal. And I’d been so excited to learn from Dr. Finch.

  Only three more stairs to the doors of the auditorium-style lecture room…

  “Ms. Dagon. If you would stop running away, please.”

  I paused mid-step, shocked that Dr. Finch knew my name…and my appearance. Worse and worse. This was mortifying. Could I die of shame?

  Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do that to my son. Instead, I paused there, on the steps, quivering.

  “Good. Now, turn around, and let me ask you a question.”

  I gulped, desperate to bolt. I looked down at Hudson, who stared up at me. I swallowed hard. I was painfully shy on the best of days. This wasn’t the best of days. Sweat trickled freely from my temples, and I fought the urge to burst into tears like Hudson.

  “Why did you bring your child with you to class?” Dr. Finch asked.

  “That’s what I want to know. I mean, who does that?” the same sneering girl said, loudly to her friend.

  I tightened my lips and gripped Hudson’s carrier even tighter, ensuring I kept him safe. I’d always keep him safe. I faced the entire class, desperately avoiding all their eyes and squinting toward Dr. Finch, who stood, one forearm on the podium at the front of the classroom.

  “Because my babysitter came down with a stomach bug about twenty minutes before class, and I didn’t want to miss this lecture since it’s right before an exam.”

  “I didn’t catch that,” Dr. Finch said.

  Of course, he hadn’t. I mumbled my response as I inched toward the doors. With a sigh, I raised my chin, then my voice, and repeated myself.

  “So, instead of missing the lecture, you brought the child?”

  Face numb, mortification blazing, I nodded.

  He climbed the stairs toward me. “And you’ve been here every session, not missing one, this entire semester…” He loomed closer, growing taller. I could make out the brown of his eyes behind his thick-framed spectacles. “While caring for an infant.”

  He had a full day’s scruff gracing his chin…and a look of admiration on his face.

  “No, sir,” I said. “I mean, yes, that’s correct.”

  His eyes flared a little. He took in my appearance: leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, Converse. Typical college attire, nothing that should cause that flash of lust.

  His gaze dropped to Hudson and his expression softened as he took in my baby, who had quieted as soon as I picked up his seat. He now stared up at Dr. Finch with as much interest as I felt.

  Dr. Finch was a beautiful man. Probably fifteen years my senior, he had a few gray hairs threading through the light brown stands right at his temples. The beginnings of laugh lines feathered out from his eyes, and his lips were soft, pink…quirked up in a sardonic grin.

  “You’re also the student who broke the curve, are you not? Libby Dagon.”

  I flinched, glancing around as the bored stares turned into furious glares. I shot my own at Dr. Finch.

  “Y-yes.” Shit. Why did he mention that? I could almost feel all the students sharpening their pencils to stab me in the back.

  “Hmmm. Well, give him to me.”

  “What? No.” I clutched the car seat tighter to my stomach.

  “We have a lot of material to cover, and he doesn’t like his seat. Not that I blame him much—who would want to be strapped down?” He held out his arm, eyes demanding. “I’ll hold him while I lecture. Don’t worry, I’ve done it before.” He said the last as an afterthought, like the explanation would soothe me.

  My eyes popped wider, and my jaw dropped. “You want to—”

  “If he gets too fussy, I’ll hand him back. But we have functions to sort out.”

  My chest seemed to flatten and then expand, and I wasn’t able to right myself, so Dr. Finch took it upon himself to unlatch Hudson, who offered him a gummy grin and a soft gurgle.

  “Aren’t you a delight?” Dr. Finch murmured at Hudson, smiling as he cradled my son in the crook of his arm. “Let’s do some differential equations, shall we?”

  I returned to my seat, numb, stunned.

  “Some girls are so lucky,” Sneer Girl said loudly as I settled back into my chair a row behind her.

  “Actually, some students pay attention, go over notes, attend study groups, and I would guess review materials they don’t understand via the Internet or other local resources. I’m sure if you attempted that level of dedication, Aspen Omerich, you’d be passing the class instead of in my office crying about your grade,” Dr. Finch said as he passed Sneer Girl.

  Sneer Girl, aka Aspen, gasped, her face flaming as brightly as mine had been moments before.

  He put her in her place, and that felt good. Even vicariously. I tried to keep in a smile small, but it broke free. Dr. Finch shot me a wink as he pa

ssed.

  “How’d you get on his good side?” the guy sitting next to me asked, his voice quiet.

  “I have no idea,” I mumbled back.

  “She pays attention,” Dr. Finch called over his shoulder. “Now, let’s get to it.”

  For the next hour, Dr. Finch worked through problem after problem, holding Hudson as he wrote on the whiteboard.

  At the end of class, I fought through the exiting mass of bodies to get to my baby.

  Dr. Finch returned him to my arms with a slight frown. “He’s a sweet bugger.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed. “You didn’t have to—”

  A smile crinkled the skin around his eyes. “I know I didn’t. But you know what else I know? How hard it is to single-parent and attend class. I can tell you I never had your grades while I was doing it.”

  “You have a child?” I asked.

  He practically beamed love, and the emotion made his expression breathtaking. “Escher. He’s fourteen. Not as sweet as your young man, here.” His eyes continued to twinkle. “Bring him again, Ms. Dagon. I’d forgotten how invigorating an infant can be.”

  I slapped my free hand over my mouth at that comment so I didn’t sputter.

  Dr. Finch noticed, but he simply chuckled as he shook his head. “You’ll see.”

  There wasn’t much Dr. Finch didn’t observe.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jamieson

  Abbi Dagon’s child couldn’t be more than five, six months, tops, but she looked like a strong wind would blow her over. I worried about her getting enough calories, especially if she was breastfeeding. I worried about Hudson getting enough to eat based on her tiny frame. He’d been so light to hold…but then I remembered the fat rolls in his arms and thighs. No, that precious boy was eating, and well, I’d say.

  His mom, though…I wasn’t so sure, and I didn’t like that.

  “Do you have help with him?” I asked, worry clouding my typically lightning-quick thoughts.

  Libby shook her head, her gaze once again going to those shoes.

  “What about Hudson’s father?” I asked bluntly, irritated that the young man in question seemed to find it acceptable to disappear on this smart, dedicated young lady.

  “Dead,” she said, her voice as flat as the word that landed between us.

  My anger turned inward. I’d been callous to ask, but I’d assumed…wrongly. She rocked the baby, cooing softly to him. Libby glanced up at me with big, guileless light brown eyes. She reminded me of a doe—soft and sweet and too good for the likes of a man like me. My gaze had unerringly flitted toward her all semester.

  Under my scrutiny, she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flaming. She dropped her gaze to the baby, clearly too flustered to continue to hold my stare.

  Interesting.

  “Hudson’s mine because I adopted him. He’s technically my nephew, but my brother and his wife were killed in a car accident when she was thirty-four weeks along. My parents passed when I was young, and my sister-in-law’s parents didn’t want to raise a baby at their age—they’re in their seventies. So, he’s mine.”

  The little darling lifted her chin and met my gaze with determination. “You were thrust into this…”

  She curled over the baby and shot me a glare that had me holding up my hands. “I wouldn’t say that. Not at all. I wanted to be Hudson’s mom.” She huffed, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “I love the little guy.”

  “But you had no preparation…I mean, you just got a call and…and collected a newborn?”

  She blinked rapidly a few times, her lashes tangling together and partially obscuring her brown eyes. “He needed me.”

  Those words hit deep inside me. He needed me.

  As Escher had needed me.

  In this, Libby Dagon and I were similar. And yet, her tumble into parenthood was more abrupt and traumatic than mine.

  I admired Libby Dagon even more now. Before, when she was still a rather anonymous student in a sea of young adults, her sharp mind drew me. She might be unassuming, liked to fade into the background, but in this moment, her sweet face had settled with determination, her jaw thrust forward with a pugnaciousness I couldn’t help but admire.

  Freckles dotted her nose, while the rest of her skin was a smooth cream. Her white-blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and dark rings circled her brown doe-like eyes.

  Of course she was tired. She was taking one of the most challenging math classes ever devised while caring for a newborn and grieving her family.

  This woman had a will forged by the forges of hell. I…felt too much and liked what I felt for her more.

  “Like I told you, it’s not a problem if you need to bring him again,” I said, my tone gruff, forcing distance between us. “He did great up here. I think he likes the limelight.”

  I offered her a small grin in an effort to show her I meant what I said. Her pupils blazed wide in response, and her face flamed. She ducked her head.

  “Thank you.” She turned away, clearly embarrassed by her response.

  “And Libby?” I called.

  Once she glanced at me over her shoulder, I said, “I enjoyed getting to know you both.”

  Her breath hitched, and her eyes spoke the volumes she tried to hide when she turned her head.

  I smirked, a warm glow settling low in my belly as I leaned against the whiteboard, enjoying watching the lovely Libby collect her things. She shot me a surreptitious look, but I didn’t bother to hide my interest.

  I hadn’t felt desire of this magnitude…let alone the need to romance a woman in years. I’d forgotten how exhilarating it was.

  Sure, Libby Dagon was my student, and nothing physical or romantic could happen between us until after she completed my course in three weeks, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t pursue the sweet little doe after...

  Because I would.

  In fact, now the anticipation would be sweet as I ticked down the days.

  CHAPTER 3

  Libby

  “So, what do you think I should wear?” I asked Hudson two weeks later.

  My son settled in his playpen that I’d shoehorned into the corner of my bedroom and blew bubbles. He was clearly delighted with his spit and toes and not at all interested in my clothing options—or that I wanted to impress Jamieson Finch.

  Jamieson.

  The name whispered through my mind as I shivered. I reveled in thinking of Dr. Finch by his first name. I enjoyed thinking about Dr. Finch. Period.

  I’d been daydreaming about the gorgeous math professor more often…and I’d been thinking about him plenty before he held Hudson. Last week, April had been well enough to watch him, but tonight she’d scheduled a date with a cute teacher’s assistant in the philosophy department. The guy was a year younger than me and reminded me of a string bean with a dark puff of hair.

  Nothing like Jamieson Finch.

  “Well, I guess these are the right pants because we’re out of time.”

  I bent down and picked up Hudson with a grunt. “We may need to lay off those bananas, big guy. My arms aren’t strong enough to keep up with your growing self.”

  I buckled him into his carrier, then tickled his tummy before grasping my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. I’d already double-checked that I had my laptop and other materials I needed for this class.

  It was my only course this semester—the last one I needed for my master’s in theoretical mathematics and derivatives. Thanks to my brother’s life insurance policy, I had some breathing room to pick the best position after I graduated. I planned to take my time with my job search to ensure the company I chose to work for would offer Hudson quality daycare and me some flexibility in my schedule so that I didn’t miss too many of Hudson’s firsts.

 

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