Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
“I forgot something.”
“What?” I ask, scanning the shelf of ladies’ cosmetics. No kids’ cleats in sight.
She quickly snatches some shaving cream down and holds it up, but it starts to lower slowly, her smile falling. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? No, I’m not fucking okay, but not because I’m up to my eyeballs in frantic shoppers. “I’m fine. I thought . . .” I don’t know what I thought. “I was worried.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to screw my head back on.
“Well, I’m fine.” Rose marches past me, and I frown, following her path, just as Tank comes charging around the corner like a rhino. “I’m here, I’m alive,” she sings sarcastically. “Call off the search party.”
Tank looks about ready to rip her head off as I follow them, wary, until we make it back to Zinnea. “There you are!” she screeches, rushing over and checking me from head to toe. “What happened?”
“Drama over nothing.” Rose claims her cart and heads to the checkouts. “I forgot my shaving cream, that’s all.”
“Sorry,” I say to Fury as I pass him before he has a chance to lay into me, my eyes never leaving Rose’s back. She starts loading her things onto the belt as Tank moves to the other end, and Zinnea reluctantly heads to the next checkout. “Will you help my aunt?” I ask Fury, who proceeds to mentally gage the distance between Zinnea and me.
He eventually plods off, and I move in on Rose. “Here, let me help.” I dip into her cart and collect the shaving cream. “Just what a woman needs when her husband’s confiscated all blades within a ten-mile radius,” I say just loud enough for her to hear. Lips pursed, she avoids my eyes, so I continue, dipping back into the cart, my hand landing on a box.
Rose seizes my wrist, and I still, looking up. Her focus is set firmly on me. She smiles. “I’ve got it.”
I shake off her hold, moving a soccer ball, revealing a . . . “What the fuck, Rose?” I whisper, snapping my eyes to hers.
“Shhhh,” she hisses, grabbing the pregnancy test and putting it on the belt under a bunch of sport socks. “I need you to go to the other end and make sure Tank doesn’t see this.”
I stare at her, a million questions parading through my mind, none of which I can ask now. So I do as she’s asked and go to the other end, making sure I’m in front of Tank. As soon as the cashier scans the box, I snatch it from her hand and stuff it in a bag, smiling awkwardly at her alarm. “Thanks.” I peek cautiously out the corner of my eye to Tank. He’s oblivious, his attention split between the mundane task of packing and Rose at the other end of the checkout. Peeking the other way, I find Zinnea chatting happily to her packing partner, Fury. I don’t know how I’m going to keep my mouth shut until we get home.
Rose pays, then claims the bag containing the test, and smiles meekly, stuffing it in her purse. “Thank you.”
“Rose, what—”
“Ready, darlings?” Zinnea sings, pulling the cart as Fury pushes.
I bite my tongue, giving Rose a look to suggest we’re not done. “Ready,” I breathe as she bowls past me. I rush to catch up. “Rose, you have to tell Danny,” I whisper, keeping close to her side, peeking back to make sure the Vikings and Zinnea are out of range.
“I’m sure I’m worried over nothing. I didn’t want to say anything to you.”
“Why?” I ask, injured. “I’m your friend.”
“You’ve been through so much.” She shakes her head mildly, and I fold with guilt, hating that she’s shouldered this bombshell on her own.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” She smiles mildly. It’s a bit of an insult. “I can’t be pregnant.”
I return my attention forward, trying so hard to look casual. Normal. It’s hard when my head’s reeling. “Then why—” I snap my mouth shut when something catches my eye across the store, just entering. Or someone. “Shit,” I murmur, fighting to maintain my pace.
“What?”
“That man,” I say, not pointing. “The one in the royal blue suit by the entrance.”
Rose does a stellar job of appearing uninterested. “What about him?”
“There was a photo of him on Danny’s desk.” I keep us walking, trying to split my attention between the Vikings and Zinnea behind us, and the man I recognize up ahead.
“I saw a photo on Danny’s desk,” Rose says quietly. “That’s not him.”
“They probably have a drawerful of photos, Rose.” All men on their list. It’s not like James can keep them on the screens in his apartment anymore. I reach into my purse and feel around for my cell, pulling up the camera when I find it.