End Game (Vegas Aces #5) - Lisa Suzanne Page 0,1

about you?” she asks. “How many kids are in your future?”

My eyes dart to the window almost involuntarily as I try to mask the fact that there might be one on the way. I’m not ready to just blurt that out before I even know if it’s true. “God, I have no idea. One or two. Maybe three. Luke and I haven’t really put a number on it.”

“Aw, look at you! Luke and I. You want kids with him.”

I lift a shoulder, glad I dodged the bullet of having to explain my current situation. “Well, yeah. I love him. I see him in my future. I don’t see Michelle there, but we’ll handle it if we find out it’s his.”

“How do you feel about it?” she asks.

“I can’t fault him for anything he did before he and I met. And even after that. We didn’t make any sort of real commitment to each other until after we got married.”

Nicki giggles. “It’s so weird to hear you say that.”

I laugh, too. She’s right.

“All right,” I finally say. I stand. “I should head home. Debbie will be there cooking so at least I’ll have a buffer between Michelle and me.”

“You need me to come kick her ass?” she asks.

“I love you for asking, but no. You take care of that bun in the oven.” I wink, bid her another congratulations, and then I head home.

I find Debbie stirring something at the stove. “That smells wonderful,” I say.

“Beef merlot,” she says, holding up a bottle of wine. “An old family recipe. You want a glass? I have some extra.”

I pause. Oh shit. What if I am pregnant? I’ve been drinking lately. I never thought I might be. I feel fine—everything is totally normal.

I need to go get a test.

I make a face. “Thanks for the offer, but room temperature wine has never been my thing.”

She laughs as she moves around the kitchen, and I glance at the clock. The boys will still be a little while, and there’s a drugstore right up the road. “I need to run a quick errand. You’ll be here a little while yet, right?”

She nods.

Can I even eat something that has wine in it? I have no idea. I know nothing about being pregnant or babies or children in general.

Although I am living with a pregnant lady, and there’s another one across the street. If I need to know something, I’m sure one of the two could answer any questions I have.

Except one, I have no idea if I even am pregnant, and two, I’m not ready to tell anyone if I am. Least of all Michelle. Everything I know about pregnancy I’ve learned from her, and that hardly seems like the winning source of information.

I hop in the car and head toward the drugstore. I stand in the aisle with the tests for a few beats. I have no idea what I’m looking for. I even wonder if I should’ve worn some sort of disguise or at least a hat. What if someone sees me picking up a test?

I’m not thinking clearly. I’m tired.

All signs that point to what I think I already know.

I grab the test that looks the easiest to read with its digital screen letting me know if the results are positive or not. I take it up to the counter, and I’m lucky it’s a teenaged girl behind it. She seems like she doesn’t much care at all that I’m buying this when it’s a huge freaking deal to me, and she barely even looks at me—surprising considering I’d be curious about every person who walked through my line, but that’s me. I’m nosy by nature, I guess.

I pay for the test—the only thing on my ticket—and I take my bag and shove it into my purse. I think briefly about doing this right here in the bathroom of the store, but I’m not seventeen and stupid. I can do this in the privacy and comfort of my own home and still find a way to dispose of the evidence without anyone catching onto my secret.

I head home, and I rush upstairs to my bathroom. I read the instructions, but I don’t have a lot of time. I scan for the basics, and then I do my thing on the stick. I cap it and stare at it as I wait for the results. A little hourglass flashes on the screen as the test works its magic, and my heart races as I