A Christmas Baby for the Cowboy Billionaire
Alice had been at this for hours, her laptop open, tabs upon tabs of names from every culture, every language, every possible origin.
"Okay, hear me out," she said, her eyes sparkling with that mischievous light I'd learned to love. "Ocean."
I stared at her.
"Ocean."
"Yes. For a boy. Ocean Bennett-Hill."
"Ocean."
"You're repeating me. That means you're considering it."
"I'm repeating you because I'm trying to understand if you're serious or if this is some kind of test."
She laughed, that sound that made the rain outside seem irrelevant.
"Okay, fine. What do you suggest? Let me guess—John? William? Something that sounds like it belongs in a history book?"
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