Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Anyway, while you were sipping tea in the hallway during lunch, I ran out to the pharmacy and bought you this.” Trina held out a brown paper bag.
Erin narrowed her gaze, cautiously accepting the bag. “What’s in it?” She didn’t wait for Trina to answer, peeking instead. “A pregnancy test?” Erin shrieked before slapping her hand over her own mouth.
True, she hadn’t had her period, but she’d attributed the lack thereof to work-related stress. Not once had she connected her illness to being pregnant.
“Hey, it’s possible,” Trina said.
“Are you kidding me? We’ve been working twenty-four seven for I don’t know how long. I can’t remember the last time I used my battery-operated friend, never mind had a real man.”
“Liar,” Trina said for the second time.
Erin scowled at her friend. They both knew she remembered the exact last time she’d had sex, and Erin recalled every perfect, muscular inch of Cole Sanders and their night together.
Their safe night. He’d used protection each time, and there’d been many. Besides, what were the chances that something life-altering had actually happened the one and only time she’d stepped outside her comfort zone? Fate wouldn’t do that to her after all her well-behaved years. Would it?
Erin regretted having shared vague details with her two friends because one of them now stood next to her, pointing at the offending test box recognized by every woman on the planet.
“Take it,” Trina ordered.
“I can’t be pregnant.” Erin’s stomach revolted at the very thought, and every nerve in her body shouted in denial.
“Good. Then prove me wrong, and I’ll take you to the doctor to find out why you’ve been nauseous for almost a month straight.” Trina pinned her with a gaze that had potential defendants shaking and crying for mommy.
“Fine.” Erin grabbed the box and headed for the private stall. Her hands shook so badly she was barely able to read, let alone follow the instructions, but a few minutes later, she and Trina were waiting in uncomfortable silence for the requisite pink or blue line.
As the second hand of her watch ticked slowly by, Erin thought about Cole. He’d deliberately steered clear of her in the time since their night together. When she’d see him at Cuppa Café, he’d nod his head and walk out the door.
The other day, while at Joe’s on Ladies’ Night, fighting against this ongoing nausea, a strange impulse had her approaching him. She’d attempted friendly conversation, ignoring the flutters in her stomach caused by being near him and his delicious masculine scent. With a long line of people waiting for drinks, he’d had no choice but to indulge her.
She’d even made him laugh once or twice, giving rise to a stupid flurry of hope . . . that what? Erin refused to go there, which was smart, considering that as soon as his beer was served, he’d grabbed the bottle, treated her to that elusive nod, and disappeared. Cole made it clear that one night meant just that. They weren’t even destined to be friends. Her stomach cramped at the reminder.
She couldn’t pretend his indifference didn’t hurt, and she wished he’d leave their small town so he wouldn’t be a permanent reminder of her one step outside the lines. She couldn’t be pregnant and not with his baby. She couldn’t think of a worse, more awkward scenario, and her stomach lurched at the possibility.
“Ding!” Trina’s too-cheerful voice shook Erin out of her painful thoughts.
“You look.” She wrapped both arms around herself, aware she was shaking.
Trina extended her hand, and Erin gratefully accepted her friend’s support. She held her breath, her heart pounding so hard in her chest, she swore she could hear the sound in her ears. At this point, she couldn’t tell if the lump in her throat was from nausea or panic.
“Well?” Erin asked, unable to stand the silence or the suspense.
“It’s positive,” Trina whispered, no longer feigning upbeat excitement.
Erin let out a sound she didn’t recognize and ran for the nearest stall, unable to contain the nausea she’d been holding at bay.
Chapter Two
Cole woke up to the sun shining through the window in his small apartment over Joe’s Bar. As he did every morning since his return home from his last deep-undercover assignment, he cataloged his state of mind and concluded that today was no different than any other.
Yep, status quo in his world.
He took a hot shower, dressed, and headed downstairs to the coffee shop where every morning, Cole picked up his much-needed jolt of caffeine, ignoring the fact that most people in town gave him a wide berth. Most, not all—and not all included the owner of Cuppa Café, Trisha. Much like her bar-owning brother, Joe, Trisha could listen to anyone’s tales of woe. Unlike Joe, she tried to use her charming personality to chitchat him into revealing something about where he’d been the last year and why he hadn’t come around before now. When her well-meaning prying failed, she tried to get him to agree to let her set him up on a date with one of her friends. That wasn’t happening either.