The Pregnancy Test

by Susan Gable

  “Well, it’s not exactly what I had in mind for our first time.” Her words sank in. “Most amazing sex of your life, huh?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.” Her fingertips danced down his chest, found the opening of his jeans. “Well, maybe this one.”

  “I thought it was pretty amazing, too.” Joy filled him, so intense it scared him. She made him happy. Not happy-content, but happy-giddy. Like he could and should dance at a bowling alley. In front of people. And he wasn’t quite sure how that fit in with the rest of his life. Giddy seemed so…irresponsible.

  Not the right thing.

  But her hand was making a particular part of him happy again, too. He cleared his throat. “So, how does a Texan measure up?”

  “Well, I can’t speak for all Texans, mind you, but so far, I’d say that this particular Texan measures up just fine.”

  “Fine? Is that all?” He flipped her onto her back, propped himself on his elbows over her.

  “What?” she asked warily.

  “The girls are with my sister for the weekend. How’d you like me to prove Texan stamina?”

  “Ooh. Yeah. Prove it.”

  BY MIDNIGHT, the votive candles in the metal room divider that created the fourth “wall” of her bedroom space had burned to stubs but still cast flickers of light. Jenna resisted the urge to touch Sloan’s face, to brush aside that stray lock of hair as he slept. Turned out that though Texan stamina was damned impressive, she’d still worn the poor man out. He’d proved to be well worth the wait. He’d spent several hours exploring every inch of her body. She shifted, limbs still languid from their lovemaking, although she wasn’t ready to settle into sleep. Generally, she didn’t let men stay over.

  And she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that she was so willing to make an exception for Sloan.

  She slipped from the bed, drew her robe over her shoulders and padded out to the kitchen. After a quick drink, she eased aside the sliding door’s curtains. The shadows of bare tree branches shifted on her deck and the twinkle of snowflakes sparkled in the streetlight’s glow.

  Jenna opened the door just an inch, inhaling the sharp scent of cold, the first snow of the season. Not that it really counted as snow. Just flurries. She jumped when Sloan brushed his mouth over the curve of her neck.

  “Hey. I missed you when I woke up and found you gone.” Naked from the waist up, he shivered against her. “Brrr. Why do you have the door open?”

  “Because it’s beautiful. Can you smell the air? It’s invigorating.”

  “No, you’re invigorating.”

  She slid the door closed, then turned to face him, snuggling into his embrace. A buzz against her hip made her back up and look at him curiously as he cursed, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket. His eyes widened when he looked at the caller ID, and he flipped it open. “Rae? What’s up?” He went quiet, listening intently, then he began to pace. “Did you ask Ashley? Sometimes she hears things she’s not supposed to.” He shoved the lock of hair from his forehead and sighed. “All right, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell Ashley it’s going to be fine, and no, she’s not in trouble.” He crammed the phone back into the little corner pocket of his jeans.

  “Something wrong?” Jenna asked.

  “Yeah.” He retrieved his shirt from the floor near the sofa. “Seems that Brook has vanished from my sister’s house.” He bent to pick up a sock from underneath the coffee table.

  “Oh, Sloan! Where do you think she is?”

  “Well, Ashley said she thinks Brook had her boyfriend meeting her down there. Something about going into Pittsburgh tonight for some action.” He glanced around the living room. “Have you seen my other sock?”

  Jenna took it from the entertainment center’s top shelf. He just shook his head. “How did that get there? Never mind.” He finished getting dressed.

  “Do you want me to go with you? I know Pittsburgh.”

  “No, thanks. I’m betting she’ll be back in a few more hours. I plan on being there to catch her as she comes creeping in. Poor Rae was frantic.”

  “Don’t be too hard on Brook, Sloan. She’s just a kid. Surely you snuck out of the house more than once?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What I did doesn’t matter. And the point is that she’s just a kid. She shouldn’t be pulling this crap for a few more years at least.”

  “Maybe if you eased up on her a bit, she wouldn’t have to go to such extremes.”

  “Jenna, I appreciate that you mean well. But I think I know how to handle my daughter. She needs strict rules and guidelines. And consequences when she breaks them.”

  “Maybe what she needs is a little bit of understanding. Did you know that Brook has incredible drawing talent?”

  As he shrugged into his jacket, he looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “What the hell does that have to do with this?”

  “Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Far be it from her to give anyone parenting advice. She leaned in, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the flowers, Tex. And dessert.”

  Pink flushed his cheeks. “Yeah. Really, it was amazing, Jenna, but—”

  “No buts, Tex. No regrets. It was what it was, and let’s keep it that way, huh? This is a dessert-only relationship—no heavy steak and potatoes. Keep it light, keep it fun.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  As she closed the door behind him, Jenna couldn’t help but think about Brook. Sloan was a good father, much like her own, but he also didn’t get his daughter. It was as if they lived in the same space but hadn’t connected at all.

  And it was pretty sad that she was worrying about her lover’s kid. But Brook reminded her of herself at the same age. Desperate for attention and love and willing to do some pretty stupid things in the pursuit of them. Luckily for Jenna she’d had Gram. And Dad hadn’t been too bad. More understanding than Mother, anyway.

  Too bad poor Brook didn’t have a Gram-type person in her life. Sloan wasn’t going to listen to Jenna’s opinions on the subject.

  “STOP HERE.” Brook pointed to the curb about two blocks from her aunt’s house. “I’d rather not take any chances.”

  “I’m not dropping you this far from the house. It’s two-twenty in the morning. Who knows what kind of weirdos could be out and about?” Dylan moved one hand from the wheel to her leg, giving it a teasing caress through the denim.

  A snort came from the back seat. “Weirdos like us, you mean?” asked Nick Garcia, one of Dylan’s track teammates and his best hanging-buddy.

  Kelly laughed. “We’re not weirdos, you moron. Dylan meant psycho-killers, not a bunch of good-timers on their way home from Dave & Buster’s.”

  Dave & Buster’s had been a blast. An enormous video arcade for fun-lovers of all ages, along with a restaurant and bar—not that any of them had pushed their luck by trying to get served—the place was fantastic for dates. They’d wanted to get down to Pittsburgh to try it out forever, but Brook had known there was no way in hell Dad would let her go all the way to Pittsburgh with Dylan and a bunch of other kids. So they’d made plans around her trip to Aunt Rae’s. Dylan and the others had gone ahead to the action, and when the coast was clear, Brook had called Dylan’s cell, and he’d picked her up.

  More sounds drifted from behind her. Slurpy make-out sounds. Kurt and Amy, the other couple squashed into the back seat, couldn’t keep their hands off each other, not even when other people were around.

  Dylan stopped within eyesight of Aunt Rae and Uncle James’s house. He pulled her into his arms, gave her a deep, long kiss that drew hoots of approval from Nick and Kelly. Dylan shot a quick glare over the seat. “Shut up.” Then he returned his attention to Brook, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m glad we did this. Although next time we’re doing something alone.”

  Brook’s cheeks warmed at his hint of how far their relationship had gone. He’d sweet-talked and seduced her out of her virginity. And though the first time hadn’t been
very good, she was starting to get the hang of it. “I’d like that. Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

  “Me, too.” He brushed his lips across hers one more time. “Night.”

  Brook pulled her coat tighter as she slipped out into the cold morning. A boatload of stars twinkled in the clear skies. She hustled up the sidewalk and climbed the front porch steps, breathing with relief when the doorknob turned in her hand. She’d left it unlocked, but worried that someone might check the door after she’d left. Inside, she slipped out of her shoes, nudging them under a table in the darkened foyer. She crept to the stairs and gripped the banister. When she was halfway up, the overhead chandelier burst into light. She blinked hard, then turned.

  Her father, arms folded across his chest, lounged in the opening to Uncle James’s office. Her backpack lay at his feet.

  Shit. Busted.

  “Nothing to say for yourself?” he asked.

  She lifted her shoulders.

  “Get down here.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, she descended the carpeted steps, leaning on the post at the bottom.

  “No. Over here.” He pointed to a spot right in front of him.

  “Like you can’t yell at me from there?” She moseyed across the wooden floor.

  “Yell? I don’t yell.”

  “Lecture, then.”

  “I just want answers. Where the hell have you been?”

  “Out.”

  “Obviously. Where? And with who?”

  “I was with some friends. We went to a game arcade.”

  “A game arcade? You expect me to buy that?”

  Brook rummaged in her purse, pulling out her gaming card. She waved the plastic rectangle. “See this? It still has credits on it. And all my prize points, too.”

  The lights clicked on upstairs, and Uncle James appeared at the upper railing. “Thank God, she’s home safe!”

  A small surge of joy that someone cared about her faded quickly. Why couldn’t that have been Dad’s first response?

  “Yeah. She’s safe. And she’ll be safe for quite a while, since she won’t be leaving the house except to go to school or work.”

  “I’m grounded?”

  “You’re grounded all right.”

  “Until when?”

  “Until I say otherwise.” Her father grabbed his leather jacket from a coat tree near the door. “Tell Rachel I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” he called up quietly to Uncle James. “I’m sorry for all this.”

  Uncle James shrugged. “Kids. What made us think being parents would be easy, huh? It’s even harder to do by yourself. Give yourself a break.”

  Give me a break. Brook grabbed the backpack her father thrust at her and jumped back into her shoes. When he thundered out onto the porch, she called after him, “What about Ashley? Isn’t she going home, too?”

  “I see no reason to ruin the rest of your sister’s weekend just because you can’t behave.” He didn’t bother to look back at her, just kept going. “Aunt Rachel will bring her home on Sunday, just like we planned.”

  Brook scurried after him, following him down the sidewalk of the little town for about a block and a half—in the opposite direction she’d come with Dylan. Obviously the old man knew a thing or two about keeping secrets, too.

  Sloan shoved his hands deep into his pockets, focused on reaching the truck without disturbing the peaceful slumber of his sister’s neighbors. Without yelling at his daughter.

  Once the wheels were rolling north again, he remained silent. Finally, he couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. “You were with Dylan, weren’t you? Did he drive all the way down here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your grounding includes him, Brook. You are grounded to the house and you are not to see that boy again. I can’t believe he encouraged you to sneak out of the house. Your Aunt Rachel was worried sick. So was your uncle.”

  “Yeah, he’s not even really related to me, but at least his first thought was to be glad I was safe!” Brook turned away, directing her gaze out the window. “Not like you!”

  “Good grief, Brook. Of course I’m glad you’re safe. Why the hell do you think I worry about you all the time?”

  “Because you’re afraid I’m going to screw up and make you look bad.”

  The kernel of truth in her statement embedded itself deep in his gut. “Well, maybe some. Not so much about looking bad, but I do worry about you making the wrong choices. Your track record isn’t all that great, you know. I take all my jobs seriously, and being your father is the most important job I have. I want to do it right, but you sure don’t make it easy for me.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You could help, you know. You could try doing the right thing for a change.” He gripped the steering wheel harder. “Pick better people to hang out with. Did the rest of those kids’ parents know where they were tonight?”

  “Yeah, they did. They actually let their kids have some fun every now and then.”

  He shook his head. What kind of parent in their right mind let a bunch of kids drive from Erie to Pittsburgh on a Friday night? “Just remember what I said about the grounding and that boy.”

  “His name is Dylan. And maybe you oughta brush up on your reading, Dad. It’s hard to keep people who love each other apart. Remember Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Is that some kind of threat, Brook? First of all, you’re fifteen. Fifteen-year-olds think they know what love is, but they don’t. And secondly, Romeo and Juliet ended up dead for no good reason. If they’d paid better attention, it wouldn’t have ended tragically. But no, they were impulsive teenagers who didn’t listen to their parents and so they ended up dead. Stop being melodramatic.”

  “I’m not the one being melodramatic,” she muttered.

  Sloan cracked the window open to change the air. The rush of cold smacked him in the face like Brook’s words. She didn’t really mean anything by the Romeo and Juliet crack, did she? Nah.

  Jenna’s comment about Brook needing some understanding echoed through his head. She’d tried to tell him something, but what? As far as he was concerned, all this understanding crap was for the birds. His brother-in-law’s psychobabble amounted to a big waste of time.

  Structure and rules. Discipline. That was what Brook needed.

  And what he needed, besides a handful of aspirin to quell the pounding in his head, was another heaping dose of Jenna. Her warmth had the power to cure what ailed him.

  Even if their impulsive relationship wasn’t exactly the right thing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A WEEK LATER Brook giggled as she ushered Dylan in through the back door. “If my father knew this, he’d go nuts.”

  Dylan glanced around the kitchen. “Y-you’re sure he’s not going to come home early or anything?”

  “I’m sure. He just called to say he’ll probably be late because something or other broke and he has to fix it. My bratty little sister is at a birthday party, so we have the house to ourselves.” No way she was letting her father rule her life. She needed to see Dylan. He made her feel special. Loved. Stealing moments with him near his locker at school wasn’t enough. Nick had dropped Dylan off two blocks away, then he’d hiked over to the house.

  “You want something to eat?”

  He stalked her, pressing her back against the kitchen counter. “Yeah. You.” She laughed as he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling, tickling her shoulder.

  Her breathing changed when he switched gears, kissing and licking the skin around her collarbone. Then he worked his way back up to her mouth, kissing her like he could never get enough. After that, he went back to her neck, concentrating on the spot where her pulse thundered. “Oh, Dylan,” she murmured. “That feels so good.”

  “I know something that feels even better.” He lifted his head to grin at her. “What better way to stick it to your dad? Let’s do it in your bed. Or maybe his.” Dylan laughed.

  “I— I don’t know…”

  “Come on. You just said he wou
ldn’t be home soon, not even at the regular time. I won’t be here when he gets back, I swear.” His eyes widened, and he cocked his head. “I thought you said you loved me?”

  “Oh, don’t give me that crap.” She smacked his shoulder. “I do and you know it.”

  “Then come on. Don’t live like the old man wants you to, all rules and no fun.” His fingers slid down her side, stroked her hip. “I can make it fun for you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  How could she resist him? “Okay. But if my dad catches you in bed with me, he’ll kill us both. Just so you know.”

  “I’ll chance it. You’re worth it, my little hot Texas tamale.”

  He really cared about her. Enough to risk her father’s wrath. With a broad smile, Brook took his hand and led him upstairs.

  “THIS IS JUST SO WRONG,” Sloan said, rolling over in the bed, throwing his arm over his face.

  “Jeez, thanks for the self-esteem boost,” Jenna said. “I had no idea sleeping with me was so awful.”

  “Oh, no, sugar, that’s not what I meant.” He forced himself to shift onto his side, propping his head on the heel of his palm. “You’re wonderful. Addictive even. I was talking about the fact that I lied to Brook and ditched work early so I could spend time right here, in your bed. With your hot, sexy self.” He trailed his fingertips along her arm, making the hair on it stand up. “If that’s not proof I’m addicted, I don’t know what is.”

  He’d even gone to the extreme of having her pick him up at the station so his truck wasn’t in front of her place, where Brook was likely to see it. God, he was a disaster. One taste of her, one night in her bed, and it hadn’t been enough. Now he was manufacturing ways for them to be together.

  “There are worse things you could be addicted to.” Her green eyes lit up, and he could barely breathe, she made him feel so damn good. “I’m low-carb and low-calorie. I have no dangerous additives like nicotine or tar. And I’m not likely to leave you with a hangover.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong about that.” He shifted closer, fitting his pelvis against her hip. “I can get drunk on you, no problem.” He leaned down, nuzzled her hair, inhaling deeply. Today she smelled like coconut and other tropical scents. Things that made him forget it was heading for Christmas, making him picture the two of them alone on a deserted beach instead. “And you’re definitely dangerous. The fact that I’m here right now, and the things I’ve done to be here, prove it. “