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Inside, I keep myself busy by looking at the framed photos on her credenza. There’s one of Blair and her mother at her college graduation, one of her and her younger half sister, Aggie, another of her father, stepmom, Patience, Aggie, Blair, and Gabe from this past Christmas, and finally, a larger one of Blair and Gabe together. I still can’t believe my brother hooked up with my best friend, but I’m glad it happened. They’re incredibly happy, getting married, and having a baby.
“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” Blair says from the doorway behind me.
“No worries,” I state, spinning around to meet her gaze.
She steps inside and moves to the mini fridge in the corner of the office, grabbing a bottle of water. “So what’s up?”
“Umm,” I start, my stomach churning a bit from anxiety. “I need you to run a test for me.” Her eyebrows pull together in question. “A pregnancy test.”
The bottle pauses halfway to her mouth as she gapes at me. “A pregnancy test?” she whisper-yells.
I nod, unable to find the words to confirm.
“Holy shit,” she states, setting her bottle on the desk and reaching for my arm. “Come on,” she demands. She drags me down the hall to the nurses’ station and promptly retrieves a urine sample cup. “Pee.”
Numbly, I take the cup and move across the hall to the bathroom. It takes only a few minutes to do my business and wash my hands, and the moment I crack open the door, my best friend practically barges inside and takes the cup from my hand. On wooden legs, I follow her back across the hallway and watch as she conducts the test.
In my heart, I already know what it’s going to say.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she mutters, doing her thing with my cup of pee before taking it across the hall and disposing of it in the toilet. Once she removes her gloves and washes her hands, she returns to where I pace. “Is this from the night of the wedding?”
My face flushes and I avert my gaze.
Blair gasps. “You slept with him again? When?”
“My birthday?” It comes out a question.
“You didn’t say anything!” she accuses, keeping her voice down so no one overhears.
“I know,” I declare, leaning back against the wall. “It wasn’t supposed to happen, but there were a few drinks, we made some bets, he took me home, and one thing led to another.”
Blair grins. “Holy crap, I can’t believe this. What are you going to do if it’s positive?”
I shake my head, unable to truly wrap my head around it. “I don’t know.”
“You’re going to tell him, right?” There’s a touch of accusation in her question, but I know it’s because she’s protecting both him and me.
“Of course I will. I’m not heartless. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’d figure it out.”
“True,” she replies before a timer dings. Blair holds my gaze and asks, “Ready?”
I nod, even though I’m not.
She picks up the test and hands it over without looking at it, even though I’m sure she wanted to. I close my eyes, my heart racing as it climbs into my throat, making it hard to breathe. With one more deep breath, I open my eyes and look at the test results.
Chapter Twelve
Logan
What a day.
Not only was the hardware store busy from open to close, but I had to deal with my ex-wife for a big chunk of that time. Despite being with customers, she chattered nonstop about absolutely nothing, never once contributed to assisting customers or anything productive to the business. She fucked with her nails, her hair, and her makeup, all while talking and driving me absolutely crazy until I told her to go home.
Then, when I finally got home, TD texted me to let me know someone called in a report that the door to my shed at my cabin property was kicked open. He was at the high school, preparing for the football scrimmage night, and unable to come by until after he was done. Unless I needed someone right away, then he’d radio for county to help.
That’s why I’m in my truck, driving down the lane toward my grandpa’s cabin. My cabin. As soon as I pull up the short dirt lane that leads to my property, I can tell something’s not right. There’s a ton of tracks from a four-wheeler or side-by-side, letting me know someone has been here recently. The moment the shed comes into view, I see the door standing open and slightly crooked on the hinges.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumble, turning off my truck and sliding out. With quick steps, I head straight for the small structure that’s normally secured with a padlock. I realize it’s been cut, and the door practically ripped from the top hinge. I don’t touch anything but take a few minutes to look around. The first thing I notice is my gas cans are missing. The four-wheeler and lawn mower are both still here, which tells me the thief wasn’t here to completely rob me.
