Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 61041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
A day without coffee is like…just kidding. I have no idea.
-Wink’s secret thoughts
Wink
I stared at the pregnancy test, vomit already starting to make its way back up my esophagus even after I’d spent the last two hours throwing up.
You need to tell him, Mace chastised me gently. He won’t be mad.
I moaned in frustration.
I know. He’s too good for me.
He was, too.
I didn’t deserve him. A man like Ian deserved the world and I’d ruined mine.
I’d lied to him today.
The man I’d seen in the park.
I knew him.
I knew him well.
In the biblical sense, too.
Oh, god.
The baby I was carrying could be Robert’s. Or it could be Ian’s. I knew that just like I knew that whatever was going on right now, that it was going to be bad.
I’d slept with the man one time, and one time only.
Shane had introduced me to him at a party, and I’d instantly found a connection in the man. He was attractive, funny, and a good friend of Shane’s. I’d seen him around quite a bit at Shane’s bar, as well as at other parties.
It’d been my first ever one-night stand, and I wasn’t sure, afterward, just what I’d done.
The sex had been okay, sure.
Nothing like what I had with Ian, but the man hadn’t been a slacker, either.
We’d both gotten off, I’d left the hotel room, and I’d never seen him again.
Until today.
Eight weeks later.
Six of which I’d been with Ian.
I was a slut!
“You’re not a slut,” Ian said, startling me.
I gasped and turned, losing purchase on the toilet bowl and falling to my knees in front of him.
“You’re making yourself sick,” he said, bending down so he could pick me up, one arm going underneath my knees and the other going behind my back.
I started crying.
“You know?” I whispered dejectedly.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’ve known you were pregnant for a month.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?” she gasped. “How? I didn’t even know.”
He looked at me.
“I can see DNA, honey,” he told me gently. “Your DNA and the baby’s DNA are different enough that it’s easy to see.”
My eyes closed as his words poured over me like a soothing balm.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for a week,” I whispered, my eyes opening to catch his. “You’ve known for all this time and haven’t called me on it yet?”
He smoothed his hand down my hair that was falling every which way out of my sloppy bun on top of my head.
“I’ve known you were pregnant,” he hesitated. “I didn’t tell you I knew because it seemed like you were still processing it in your head.” He smiled then. “I probably would’ve let you tell me, but then you started losing weight because you were worrying yourself sick over what I’d say or do.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Ian?” I challenged him.
He snorted and placed me on the bed, immediately bending to the floor and picking up my flip flops.
“I have a problem at the mill, and I need to go check on it.” He slipped on a flip flop. “You can either come with me, or go to the sanctuary with Brooklyn and Blythe.”
I pursed my lips.
“How long will you be there?” I asked. “All day, like two days ago?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know of. Should be a quick in and out. Something is wrong with the planer. Not that I can fix it, though. I’ll have to call in the repair company.”
I eyed him suspiciously.
“You’re being awfully nonchalant about this…”
Four hours later, I was twiddling my thumbs on the stupid brown stool across from Ian, who was on his back underneath the biggest machine I’d ever seen.
I’d peed twice, searched through the empty refrigerator three times, and had taken no less than ten laps around the huge shop.
Now, I was literally bored out of my mind.
“Ian.”
“What?” he grunted, his large muscles bulging.
“What time are we looking at now?” I pushed.
He growled something at me that I couldn’t quite understand, but the mental picture came through loud and clear.
He wanted me to leave him alone.
Smothering a grin, I got up and started walking to the front room, looking outside and contemplating making a run for it.
Then I saw Mace.
Hey, Ian.
His growled—even through mind speak— answer was quite hilarious.
What do you want, demon?
I really did giggle this time as I watched Mace bring one clawed large paw to the earth and dig it into the grass, spreading his claws in the soft grass like a cat would when it was kneading your skin.
Can Mace fly me to McDonald’s?
And what, take you through the drive-through? he sighed. I think not. Just wait a few more minutes and I’ll be done.
The only person I could blame for the next lapse in judgement was me.
I chose to walk out the door, not realizing that danger awaited outside.