The Pregnancy Test

by Susan Gable

  “Sure thing. Go ahead. I think I might close up a little ahead of schedule tonight myself.” And she did just that, turning the sign around and locking the front door behind the girl. Then she used the connecting door to go from her office into Margo’s, but her friend wasn’t there. Jenna wandered down the hallway, peeking into the empty treatment room, then continued to the main shop. Margo sat behind the front counter, staring into space.

  Jenna snapped her fingers. “Earth to Margo. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Go where? I’m supposed to be open for another hour.”

  “Do you have another massage client?”

  Margo shook her head.

  Jenna made a big production of scanning the room, peering down the two aisles of naturopathic products. “Well, since I see other customers are swarming you tonight, like they are me, I propose we ditch this lemonade stand. I’m going stir-crazy. Besides, I’m starving.”

  “Now that your appetite is back, you’d better watch it. You’ll gain back all the weight you lost at the start of this pregnancy, and then some. You’ll be as big as a house by the time that baby is born, at the rate you’re going.” Margo left the counter area, brushing past a display of essential oils, to secure the front door.

  “Thanks so much. You’re a barrel of laughs these days.”

  Her friend scrunched up her face. “Hey, I really thought Phil was going to be The One. Excuse me for sulking for a few days. You’re supposed to sympathize with me for getting dumped again.”

  Jenna reached out to rub Margo’s shoulder. “Poor baby. Phil was obviously a toad, not worthy of a fantastic woman like you.”

  “That’s better.”

  CRUISING DOWN 38th Street, work behind him, the night ahead, Sloan reached for his cell phone to call Jenna, then changed his mind. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands to prevent himself from waffling again. He’d been doing his damnedest to give her some space.

  It wasn’t an easy task, when every moment he spent with her gave him a natural high—especially now that she was back to her old sparkly self.

  Passing Crazy Eights Pub and Pool Hall, he did a double take, looking over his shoulder. Was that ugly orange thing in the parking lot her ugly orange thing? Or were there more people in Erie with horrible taste in car color?

  At the next intersection, he turned, making a trip around the block and coming up the side street by the pub. A closer look at the car assured him it was Jenna’s. No one else would have the red furry sneaker monster from Bugs Bunny dangling from the rearview mirror. He pulled the truck into a space three spots down before he even realized what he was doing.

  Should he? Would she feel he was checking up on her? Hell, he had a good enough reason to be checking up on her. She was carrying his child, for God’s sake. And it wasn’t as if he’d gone out looking for her—she was the one who’d picked a place on his route home from work.

  He swung from the truck. Inside the building, the odor of stale cigarette smoke and beer greeted him, along with classic rock blaring from the ceiling speakers. The stools along the bar were all full, as were the majority of the tables. The place had to be a gold mine on Friday and Saturday nights if it was packed like this on a Wednesday. Happy-hour specials—dollar drafts and twenty-five-cent wings—were posted in neon print on a board by the door.

  Sloan made his way around the perimeter, scanning the crowd for Jenna. Finally spotting her, he ground to a stop. Bent over a pool table, poised to take a shot, she didn’t seem to realize that the plunging neckline of her tunic exposed the newly expanded cleavage she sported thanks to the pregnancy. And she couldn’t notice the guy with the broad grin, leaning on a pool cue behind her—checking out her ass, no doubt.

  Sloan’s guts tightened and his hands clenched. Fiery pain blossomed in his chest.

  He searched his memory of the night they’d gone out to dinner with her parents. Six months, she’d said, had been her longest relationship. If you counted from their dinner date back in October, they’d already been seven months. He was on borrowed time.

  Was the guy drooling over Jenna’s luscious backside his replacement? Was she tired of Sloan now and already looking for a new playmate?

  Hellfire. He’d promised himself he’d never again put himself in a position where he’d doubt the woman in his life. And what had he done? Gotten involved with a natural-born flirt—a woman who not only could hurt him like Beth had, but likely would.

  Jenna straightened from the missed shot with a shrug. Then she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened with recognition. A slow smile curved her mouth, turning into a huge grin as her whole face brightened.

  He felt like a total heel for doubting her.

  “Tex!” she mouthed, waving him over.

  He wove through the scattered tables and chairs around the pool-playing area. When he got close, she came to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.

  That made him feel even lower, the dust beneath somebody’s boots, never mind the heel.

  He snaked his arm around her waist and drew her closer, aware of the other guy’s attention on them. He kissed her firmly, making sure there would be no doubt in any onlooker’s mind that she was his woman.

  “All right, knock it off or get a room,” Margo growled at them.

  Sloan separated from Jenna, glancing at her friend. “What’s with her?”

  “All men are scum tonight, Tex, so don’t mess with Margo, okay?”

  “All men? Even me?”

  Jenna nodded solemnly, but her eyes twinkled. “Even you.”

  Sloan jerked his head in the other guy’s direction. “What about him? Is he scum, too?”

  “Who, Johnny?” Jenna laughed. “No, he’s not scum.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Jenna’s face grew red and she laughed harder as she motioned the dark-haired man closer. “Johnny, come meet Sloan. He wants to know why you get a free-pass on all-men-are-scum night.”

  Sloan eyed the hand Johnny stuck out, grudgingly taking it, squeezing a little harder than necessary.

  Johnny joined Jenna in chuckling. “I wondered why he was giving me the evil eye from the other side of the room. Jenna, you’re naughty. You’ve never told your man about me. And here I thought we were friends.”

  “We don’t count Johnny as scum because he’s one of the girls, not a man,” Margo called out, sizing up a shot.

  “And you know, I’m not quite sure how to take that,” Johnny said, placing his palm in the middle of his chest. “Compliment or dig?”

  “Johnny used to run a hairdressing place in the empty part of my building when I first bought it, but then he got too big for us and moved. Hey, maybe you are scum,” Jenna said. “I still haven’t rented that out.”

  “Don’t be bitchy, dear,” Johnny replied.

  The bells went off in Sloan’s head, and his face warmed. Gay. The guy was gay. “Guess you weren’t scoping out Jenna’s uh…never mind.”

  The man laughed. “No, while Jenna has a very nice ass, especially bent over a pool table, I’m more likely to be checking out yours. Especially since I, like Margo, find myself recently dumped.” He craned his neck as if to see around Sloan. “Do you wanna play in the next game?”

  Sloan shifted his weight from foot to foot, resisting the temptation to either turn away or slug the guy.

  “Don’t be hitting on my man, Johnny, or I’ll have to get out my claws.” Jenna arched her hand at him, displaying her pink and yellow nails. “Besides, I can vouch for the fact that he’s not your type. Look at him. You’re making him uncomfortable. Cut it out.”

  “Your man, huh?” Sloan murmured near her ear. “I think I like that. You’d better watch it, though. I might just mistake that possessiveness for some form of commitment.”

  “Hey, I’m having your baby. How much more of a commitment do you want?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away.

>   A bitter zing of disappointment shot through him.

  “Are you guys going to actually play, or just talk all night?” Margo asked, taking a swig of her beer.

  “Here are your hot wings.” A waitress dropped an overflowing bucket of chicken wings, a pile of napkins, and an empty, paper-lined basket on a nearby table. “Does anyone need anything else?”

  “Food! I quit for now. You can shoot for me, Margo.” Jenna pulled Sloan toward the steaming bucket. “Want some wings?” He shook his head but ordered a draft.

  “If you’re smart, you won’t get between her and the chicken,” Johnny said as he passed Sloan on his way to the pool table. “She’s liable to bite you.”

  “Would you really?” Sloan asked her as they perched on the tall stools that encircled the table.

  She didn’t answer, just sank her teeth into an orange-coated wing. Sipping his drink, he watched her devour one after another until a small pile of bones filled the once-empty basket. Her obvious delight gave him great satisfaction. “It’s good to see you eating again. And enjoying things again.”

  “Let me tell you, it’s good on this side of it, too.” She wiped her hands, then her mouth, with a napkin.

  “You missed a spot.” He took the crumpled paper from her and brushed at the corner of her lips. “You know, I really need to get going. The girls are expecting me.”

  Jenna nodded. “I’ll follow you. I wanted to talk to you tonight anyway. Just let me make sure it’s okay with Margo, and see if Johnny will drive her back to the shop when they’re done commiserating on the scumminess of men.”

  “Talk, huh?” In his experience, it was never a good thing when a woman announced she wanted to talk.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JENNA’S HANDS SHOOK as she shut off the car. For several long minutes she just sat there, trying to calm the quivering in her stomach that had nothing to do with the baby.

  Well, not exactly.

  A tapping sounded on the window next to her ear, and she jumped. “Sloan! Jeez, you scared me. Don’t do that.” She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and climbed out.

  “Why don’t you come over to my place? We can be together while I get the girls’ dinner. Otherwise I have to wait, and I don’t want to. I want to be with you now.”

  “Do you really think that’s wise?”

  “Why? I thought you wanted to talk to me?”

  “I meant Brook.” The thought of facing the teen made her palms damp. But if she and Sloan were going to have any kind of a future together, she had to make sure his older daughter was going to eventually accept her again.

  “Brook’s been a little more…mellow lately. I say let’s do it. Ashley will be thrilled to see you at our place.” Sloan extended his hand. “Come on. I’ll feed you something else, too.”

  “Dessert?” She grinned at him as they strolled down the sidewalk, fingers entwined.

  He skidded to a halt, turning to her. “Has that appetite returned, too?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He lowered his head, gave her an easy kiss that had her insides going gooey. “Mmm. Spicy. Just like you.” He brushed his lips over hers one more time. “I’ll have to see what I can do about taking care of both your appetites.”

  Apprehension filled her as they resumed their trek to his house. “Well…maybe not. I’m getting kind of round, you know. And I had to take out the belly-button ring.”

  “Hey.” He stopped on the top porch step. “I’ve told you before. I think you’re beautiful no matter what. I certainly don’t want to stop making love to you just because your body is changing. In fact, I’ve been dying to get you naked again, okay?”

  “You say that now, but what about in another few months?”

  “You’ll still be beautiful and desirable. Sugar, sexy isn’t just about the outside. It’s an attitude. Trust me when I say you are probably the sexiest woman I have ever known, right now, and always. You have to believe me when I tell you that.”

  She searched his face, finding concern and a bit of uncertainty in his eyes. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then I believe you. And I’ll be looking forward to you backing up your sweet-talking words with some action.” She winked at him.

  “Good.” He kissed her again, then led her into the house. “Girls, I’m home!” he called up the stairs.

  In the kitchen, Jenna sat in one of the chairs at the little dinette while Sloan poked around in the refrigerator. They heard a set of small feet clatter down the stairs to the living room. Ashley barreled into the kitchen a few seconds later. “Daddy!” She threw herself at Sloan, who scooped her into a hug, then set her down.

  “What do you want for dinner, Peach?”

  “Can we have chicken quesadillas?”

  “Hmm. Do you think Jenna can take the heat of the pico de gallo?” Sloan nodded in her direction.

  “Jenna! You’re here!” Ashley forgot about her father, rushing over to throw her arms around Jenna’s neck and squeezing. “You like spicy food, right?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Does the baby?” Ashley untangled her arms to stoop over and pat Jenna’s stomach in a gesture she found oddly moving.

  “As far as I can tell.”

  “Then you’ll love Daddy’s quesadillas.”

  “Okay, it’s settled,” Sloan said.

  The kitchen filled with the smells of chicken, onions and peppers as the food sizzled in a large frying pan. Ashley brought her reading book out, asking Jenna to listen to her read a story for part of her homework. Sloan bustled around the stove, ignoring Jenna’s requests to see what he was putting in the meal.

  The whole scene gave Jenna a warm fuzzy. Being with him, even with Ashley, just felt so damn right. But when she thought about Brook, Jenna’s hands started to tremble again.

  Sloan sent Ashley to fetch her older sister, but the little girl returned quickly. “She’s asleep, Dad, with a whole bunch of papers spread around her on the bed.”

  “Let her sleep, Sloan. Trust me when I say pregnancy takes a lot out of a person.” Jenna could deal with waiting a while to see how Brook responded to her presence in the house again.

  Dinner and cleanup breezed by. Jenna was surprised how natural it felt, given her several months’ absence from his home. After Sloan sent Ashley upstairs to take a bath, he took Jenna’s hand and pulled her down onto the sofa, placing an arm around her shoulders. “Now,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on in your head?”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Well, when I asked for the butter for a tortilla you left the table and brought me back a beer. Not that I’m complaining about the beer, mind you. I appreciated it.”

  “Wow. Guess I was pretty far away. No wonder Ashley giggled when I came back from the kitchen.” She snuggled into him, pressing her cheek against his chest.

  “So, what’s on your mind, sugar?”

  The rehearsals she’d imagined had all been easier than this. But maybe the moment wasn’t right. Somehow there should have been candlelight and music, and maybe she should tell him after they made love, naked in his arms, tangled in her sheets…

  “I love you.” There. She’d said it.

  The house shifted and the pipes rushed with water, evidence of Ashley’s filling the tub. But Sloan remained silent. Jenna wiped her palms over her jeans. “Uh, a response of any kind would be good.”

  “Could you repeat what you just said?”

  She sat up and slapped his chest. “This is no time to be funny! I’ve never told any man that. Well, my dad, but he doesn’t count.”

  “I’m serious, sugar. I want to be looking at you when you say it again.”

  “Oh, Sloan.” She cupped his cheeks with her hands. “I love you.”

  He smiled, turning his face to kiss the heel of her palm. “Hot damn. No wonder you couldn’t think straight tonight. But I have to ask—what brought you to this stunning conclus
ion? Especially now?”

  “What’s not to love about a guy who takes care of a woman while she’s sick as hell? Who loves his kids so much that he uproots his whole life to do what he thinks is best for them? Who even goes as far as asking the mother of the latest child to marry him when he’s not sure it’s what he really wants?”

  Sloan’s breath caught at the honesty of her comment. Marrying her was the right thing to do, but he had to admit to moments of relief that she hadn’t answered his proposal yet.

  But the admission that she loved him…now that put a different spin on things. He leaned in and took her lips with his.

  “Dad?” The banister creaked and a set of footsteps came down the stairs. “I have to talk—what the hell is she doing here?”

  Sloan turned to face his daughter, settling a protective arm around Jenna. “Watch your mouth. It’s about time you got over it, Brook. Jenna and I didn’t plan for this to happen any more than you and Dylan did. If you want people to give you a break, then you have to offer that same break to others. Before you found out she was carrying your brother or sister—” he held up his hand as Brook opened her mouth “—you counted Jenna as your friend. How would you have felt if Kelly had decided to stop being your friend when you found out you were pregnant?”

  “Totally different. I’m not having Kelly’s father’s baby. And if I were—major eewwww—but if I were, I’d expect Kelly to be pissed at me.”

  “For how long, Brook?” Jenna asked softly. “I didn’t mean to betray you. And I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to bust into your family and take your mother’s place. I’m not. But I really would like for us to be friends again. I’ve missed you.”

  Brook snorted, folding her arms over her chest. “Sure. It didn’t take you long to hire Cheryl.”

  “You quit. And so did Nicole. I really needed help because I was so sick. Without Cheryl, Margo, and even your dad helping me out, I might have had to close the shop completely.”

  Brook’s defiant look slipped a little. “So?”