Hammer It Home: Powertools, Book 6

by Rylon, Jayne

  The only other time Kayla had seen Morgan so sullen…

  She swallowed hard, afraid to ask. It’d been almost three weeks since the night in the honeymoon suite. Shouldn’t she know by now? Maybe it hadn’t worked. What else could sap Morgan’s infinite energy and perky spirit?

  “Using me as an excuse to avoid your dream dress?” Morgan raised one eyebrow at a jaunty angle, distracting Kay from her mental investigations.

  “Hell yes.” Kayla scowled. She’d successfully resisted the seductive design, hand-painted in gold and plum on lapis silk, during the prior two trips she’d made to the shops with various assortments of the crew ladies.

  “Just try it on already. Please.” Her friend rolled her eyes.

  “We both know if I do, it’s going home with me.” Kay glanced over her shoulder at the temptation in the window, then to Morgan, then back at the dress.

  “Maybe you’ll be extra picky, as usual, and delude yourself into believing it’s unflattering or some crap. Though I bet you the Boston cream pie in my case right now it would look fabulous. Worthy of the annual award ceremony for the Independent Business Alliance. You know, ’cause I’ve heard rumors you’re about to be nominated for owner of the Best New Venture of the Year.”

  “What?” Kayla’s jaw hung open. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Morgan would know. She’d chaired the committee in her ridiculously sparse free time after scoring the honor the prior year. Her sincere smile wiped some of the fatigue from her eyes. “I can’t tell you anything officially, but…congratulations. You’d be better off snagging that now than hunting for something in a few weeks. It’ll be gorgeous with your tattoos.”

  Kayla took two steps toward the shop door before hesitating.

  “Go on.” Morgan shooed her. “Maybe it’s not as expensive as it looks.”

  They both laughed at that one.

  “Okay, okay.” Morgan sighed. “How about this… I’m sure it’s worth every penny.”

  It would be a splurge and a half considering the reputation of the boutique, which featured the latest summer fashions in the ornate window display. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “I’m telling Dave this is all your fault.”

  “He’s going to thank me when he sees you wearing that masterpiece.” Morgan lagged behind as Kayla dashed up the handful of stairs leading into the store.

  Miracles did happen. They had her very un-Devon-petite size right there on the front of the rack. Kayla slipped her head through the trapezoid formed by a wooden hanger as well as the straps and bodice of the stunning handkerchief dress she’d drooled over from afar. Up close, it stole her breath.

  She giggled as she spun around in search of a changing room, loving the flare of the airy material. Brilliant colors flashed in several mirrors, which hung on the backs of open doors nearby, causing a kaleidoscope effect.

  In one of the frames, Kayla glimpsed Morgan sinking to her knees.

  “Mo!” She rushed to her friend’s side. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”

  From a foot away, she detected the shaking of Morgan’s hands and the unnatural sheen of sweat on her greenish-gray skin. Clamminess greeted her fingers when she laid them on her friend’s brow.

  Eyelids scrunched shut, Morgan leaned on the shoulder Kayla lent her. “Sorry. Crap. I thought my dizziness was fading away.”

  “You’re not well.” Kayla conducted a mental inventory of the homeopathic remedies lining the shelves in the apothecary at her resort. “How long have you felt like trash? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m scared,” she whimpered.

  The plaintive wisp of audible agony broke Kayla’s heart. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll take you to the doctor. Right now, if you’re good to stand up.”

  “Can I help you?” the salesperson hovering over them asked from more than ritual this time. “Should I call security? There’s a nurses’ station in the main building.”

  “No, no.” Morgan rose to wobbly legs. She clutched Kayla’s arm hard enough to leave bruises. “I’m fine, really. Just…a spell.”

  The shopkeeper ignored the protest, flicking her concerned glance to Kayla for a ruling.

  “Mo…have you missed your period yet?” The time for pussyfooting around had passed. “Are you…”

  “She’s pregnant! Of course.” The helpful woman perked up, her face illuminating as she clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh, dear, don’t worry. This is perfectly normal. Is this your first?”

  “Well, I’m not sure yet.” Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I…I hope.”

  “Honey, I have five brats of my own.” The loving tone belied her disparagement of the kids. “The glow in your cheeks is like a neon sign flashing Preggers! Preggers! I should have spotted it right off. Here, breathe deep. The heat isn’t going to be your friend for a while. Make sure you’re eating regularly too.”

  Kayla stripped the dress from where it’d nearly strangled her in her mad dash. She sighed as she pivoted, intending to replace the garment. There were more important things than the most beautiful outfit in the world.

  “Wait.” Morgan looked as if she’d fight the kind woman dishing out conventional wisdom like turkey at Thanksgiving. “We’ll take the dress.”

  “I didn’t even try it on.”

  The shopkeeper exchanged a conspiratorial eye roll with Morgan. “It might as well have been made for you.”

  “Please.” Morgan didn’t often beg. “It’s the very least I can do after ruining your day off. You take even less of them than I do.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “I did.”

  Kayla was stunned into silence. Right there in the middle of the boutique, Morgan—practical, fierce, independent, tough Morgan—burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Was a bitch all day. You should have slapped me. But instead you bought me ice cream. Twice.”

  A hiccup interrupted the mangled admission.

  “Now that’s a friend.” The shopkeeper plucked the dress from Kayla. She floated behind the furniture-quality display case supporting a gilded, old-fashioned cash register as if hysterical women had epic meltdowns in the middle of her sophisticated showroom all the time. “This one is on me. You two are the highlight of my Monday. When you wear it, just make sure people know where you found it. Better than a billboard, I swear. Women everywhere will want to emulate your style.”

  Before Kayla could protest, the woman had swaddled the dress in impressive tissue-paper origami and tucked it into an artsy box. She wrapped the package in a bow of some organic material then pressed it into Kayla’s hands.

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Her brows climbed.

  “Th-thank you.” Morgan sniffled.

  “You’re very welcome, dear.” The woman joined them once more, this time extending a wire and bead box concealing mundane Kleenexes. “Go ahead, blow your nose. Take a few spares. The weepy phase can snap back on you.”

  Morgan accepted her advice with an exceptionally unladylike noise that reminded Kayla of something she’d heard during a show Dave had watched about rhinoceroses on National Geographic. Probably best to keep that thought private.

  “Best of luck.” The owner ushered them to the door. “Mind the stairs. And come back soon. I’d like to know if you’re having a boy or a girl. I’m guessing boy. They always wreaked havoc on my system. What else is new?”

  Kayla wrapped her arm around Morgan’s waist and took the stairs slowly, in lockstep with her friend. When she looked up, she caught the shopkeeper waving to them and smiled.

  “See, there are benefits to having a hormonal, decrepit, freakazoid pal, huh?” Morgan rested her head on Kayla’s shoulder as they wound their way to the parking lot. They stopped at the bench Kayla had indicated earlier and two others along their route so Morgan could catch her breath.

  “Mo, you’re not driving like this.” Kay broke the silence that had stretched between them. She couldn’t forget her friend’s earlier admission�
� I’m scared.

  “Okay.”

  “And when we get to your place, you’re going to take a pregnancy test.” She squeezed the other woman’s hand. “I’ll stay with you. Or we can wait for Joe if you’d rather him be there. I know you’re afraid of bad news, but you have to be sure. There are things your baby needs from you—”

  “If there’s a baby,” Morgan whispered.

  “Yes, if…” Kayla wouldn’t hurt her friend unintentionally if things didn’t turn out like she was almost positive they would. She honestly couldn’t believe Joe hadn’t made his wife take the test already. True, they’d both been damaged by the disappointments of the past year. Neither was eager to hurt themselves, or the other, again. Still, the insanity had to end.

  “I think all the tests I have are expired by now.” Morgan sighed as Kayla handed her into the passenger side of her hybrid sedan. “I’d rather not detour on the way home. Not feeling so great. Need to lie down. Somewhere quiet, dark, cool. Please, Kay. Can we hurry? Maybe one of the guys could make a run?”

  “No problem. They’re going to have to pick up your car anyway. Let me give them a call. I’ll have them stop then meet us at your apartment, okay? You can take a little nap while we wait.”

  “Good idea.” Morgan’s eyes were already closed, her head tipped back against the rest.

  Kayla shut the door, then whipped her phone out of her purse. She monitored Morgan through the glass. Speed dial had her connected to her husband in less than a second.

  “Hey, sexy.”

  “Dave.”

  “Ah shit. It’s not that kind of call, huh?” He laughed. When she didn’t, he caught on. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Morgan.” She tried to explain quickly so he didn’t panic. “She’s all right. But we went to the mall, and she’s acting… Well, like Kate did at first, I guess. Crazy emotions. Tired. Sick. Cranky. Just off. I’m taking her home.”

  “Joe! You’d better come down here.” Dave’s shout was muffled, as though he held the heel of his hand over the mouthpiece.

  They arranged for the guys to swing by to collect Morgan’s car and the supplies. Kayla pressed her hand to the butterflies in her stomach. If she felt this unsteady, Morgan must be a mess. She said goodbye and wrapped their call quickly, jogging to the driver’s side and slipping in. Only then did she realize she hadn’t told Dave she loved him like she usually did when they spoke. There’d be plenty of time tonight to make sure he realized how much she appreciated his reliability. No matter what, he always made her feel safe.

  “Okay, everything’s set. A half hour or so, and all will be just fine. You’ll see.” Kayla rambled the rest of the way home though Morgan never once responded. Dozing or not, she seemed to relax at the news of her husband’s impending arrival.

  Kayla could definitely relate.

  Joe dodged the headlock Dave attempted to put him in. Noogies wouldn’t relieve the knots in his guts.

  “Looks like you’re going to be a dad, buddy. Your wild days are done.”

  “Huh. Not if I have anything to say about that.” Mike saved Joe from Dave and Neil, who danced around him, whooping, tossing light punches and hollering. “Guys. Tone it down until we know something for sure.”

  “Thanks.” Joe bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. He couldn’t stand it if they all had to go through the disappointment he’d endured for close to a year. Too many false alarms had him on edge. Could this be the time? Terrified to hope, he couldn’t squash the spark of optimism catching fire inside him.

  “You got it.” Mike slapped him on the shoulder. “You and Dave head out. We’ll be right behind you as soon as we stash the supplies inside. Don’t need any of this lumber walking off before we get back tomorrow morning.”

  Sounding like a broken record but not caring, Joe said, “Thanks,” again.

  His lips were numb and his fingers beat an irregular rhythm on his ripped jeans as he loped to Dave’s truck. His wingman never strayed from his side. The rest of the crew cheered them on, shouting good luck in their wake.

  Joe reached Dave’s monster black pickup first. He didn’t ask before opening the driver’s side door. Without something to do he’d go crazy by the time they reached their wives. The pair piled into the cab. Dave tossed the keys across the bench seat. Joe snagged them in one hand, jammed them in the ignition and backed out of the new paver driveway they’d laid last week fast enough to chirp the tires. “Whoa there buddy, no sense in wrecking now. Things are finally going your way, remember?”

  The click of Dave’s seatbelt echoed in the space between them.

  Joe nodded, taking a shaky breath. He fastened his own harness, then moderated his speed to something he wouldn’t go to jail for if a cop spotted him.

  “It’s gonna work out, Joe.” Dave slapped Joe’s thigh hard enough to leave a bold handprint beneath the denim. “This time next year, you’re gonna be exhausted, broke and wrapped around your kid’s eensy-weensy finger. I have a feeling.”

  The big man had pulled his psychic shit one too many times for his friends to dismiss his intuition easily. Somehow that only accelerated the pounding of Joe’s heart. What if… “Dave?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Am I ready?”

  Raucous laughter ricocheted around the truck. “Kind of late to wonder that, isn’t it?”

  Joe couldn’t answer past the tightness of his lips.

  “Shit, shit. Sorry.” Dave rubbed his flat belly. “Right. You’re not joking. This is like me freaking out at my wedding, remember?”

  “No. I mean, yes. I remember. But they’re nothing alike.” Joe took his eyes from the road long enough to laser a stare at Dave. “That was ridiculous bullshit. Standing there at the edge of the resort, waiting for Kayla, you lost your mind. Babbled like a crazy man. Not good enough, not rich enough, not hung enough. Whatever. That last one killed me, by the way. How much bigger could one cock get?”

  “Exactly.” Dave shifted his muddy boots on the thick rubber mat. “Not my finest moment. Don’t pull that shit on me now. You’re going to be a kickass father. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll have a son so you can rub it in Mike’s face.”

  Joe couldn’t help but laugh. As usual, his friends knew exactly the right thing to do to shake things into perspective. He flipped on the turn signal, taking the exit to the artsy-fartsy mall the girls preferred over the department stores he’d have frequented. In, out, done—unless he was picking out something special for Morgan.

  Maybe he should have gotten her a present just in case. He’d work on a surprise for her after they verified… After it was really real.

  But in his heart, he knew Dave was right.

  He hoped they had halfway decent flowers at the drugstore.

  “Okay, I’ll stop somewhere and get the stuff.” He slipped from the truck, leaving it running as Dave came around the hood. “I know where they keep the tests in each store in a ten mile radius at this point. I’ll run in, and be right behind you. Tell Morgan I love her.”

  Dave grinned and saluted. “Sure will. I’ll probably beat you by an hour or two with you driving that recycled tin can.”

  Joe shook his head as he bent to move the seat back at least a foot in Morgan’s hybrid sedan. She loved the miniature neon green car so much he didn’t have the heart to suggest she upgrade to something a little more peppy or spacious. Though she might have to soon. He was finding out from Mike that a baby required a ton of shit they’d never considered.

  The rumble of Dave’s truck pulling away yanked Joe from his vision of a cute toddler with Morgan’s eyes, who smashed a plastic toy hammer against his car seat, and everything else he could reach.

  With a smile, he slid behind the wheel, then puttered off to the drugstore.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Joe stared at the empty slot on the shelf where the pregnancy tests should have been piled fourteen boxes high.

  “Sorry, sir.” A zit-faced teen in a smock with a giant store
logo printed on it looked up from where he was slashing tape with his box cutter. “There was a recall on the store brand and the others sold out. I heard they have some down at the supermarket on the corner.”

  “Right. Damn. Okay, thanks.” He jammed his hands in his jeans and turned Morgan’s keys over and over across his knuckles. This was the third unsuccessful stop he’d made so far. What were the odds of that?

  Rather than waste time with the lights and fighting soccer moms in enormous SUVs for spots, he dashed out of the store and down the block. He zoomed around displays, a motorized cart blocking most of the walkway and a pallet of two-liters temporarily parked at the entrance to the feminine hygiene aisle. It was like some bizarre nightmare, trying to swim upstream to a place every man dreads being sentenced to in the first place.

  There at the end of the aisle, he spotted the purple and white box of the test brand Morgan preferred. He stood on the bottom shelf, ignoring its ominous creaking, and reached to the back of the top row, snagging the lone survivor.

  Score!

  He grinned as he sprinted for the check-out. Of course, when he got there, it seemed only one lane had anyone working and that cashier had a huge yellow In Training ribbon on her apron. The line looked long enough to stretch the whole length of the Great Wall of China. Twice.

  Joe worked hard to never in his life be that guy. The asshole his dad had been so many times he could recall. It took every ounce of his patience to keep from growling until shoppers scattered and cleared the way.

  The lady in front of him turned her head. Blue-gray curls bounced as she not-so-subtly eyed the package in his hand. With the brashness only age could generate, she peered up at him from somewhere near belly button height and shook her finger. “I hope you intend to take care of your girl.”

  He tried not to grin, but couldn’t help it. “I swear, ma’am. My wife is the most amazing woman on the planet. I’m lucky to have her.”

  “Good boy.” She patted his arm.

  Some punk chose then to squeeze past, so intent on texting on his iPhone or posting a picture of the outrageous line on Facebook, accompanied by some smartass caption, that he bumped into the lady. She stumbled, but Joe kept her upright.