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Take Me On

Page 9

by Cherrie Lynn


  She’d also never been very religious.

  She fucking prayed.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  First off, she decided, she was going to allow herself ten minutes—okay, twenty—to panic, cry, pray, whatever she needed to do, and then she was going to force herself to get up and, like any sensible person, drive to a drug store and buy a pregnancy test. Or four. Because there was no use worrying until there was something to worry about. Until the test(s) came back positive and she saw the proof with her own eyes, there was nothing to worry about.

  Gabby repeated those words like a mantra as she got dressed in a cami and shorts and tied her hair up, not bothering with looking too presentable. As she grabbed the doorknob to leave her room, she contemplated throwing up before she left, but didn’t want to break the day’s no-vomit streak. Taking deep breaths until the nausea took its hooked talons out of her stomach, she eased down the stairs, praying yet again. This time to avoid her mother.

  Mission accomplished, five minutes later she was driving into town, chewing her left thumbnail to the quick.

  Nothing to worry about my ass.

  Oh God, she was so screwed. That test was going to be positive. Her boobs hurt so bad. Her abdomen cramped a little. She swept through the family-planning aisle at the nearest drug store and grabbed the top brands of tests she’d heard of and headed for the checkout counter, daring the girl working there to even look at her funny. She didn’t, of course. It wasn’t like that girl fucking cared that Gabby’s life was about to be turned upside down, all her plans laid to waste.

  Okay, she told herself as she huffed it back to her car in this infernal damn mid-July heat, which was doing nothing good for her nausea. Nothing was laid to waste here. People had kids in medical school. It could be done. One couple she’d known from her classes was actively trying—and she’d thought they were insane, but whatever. Their reasoning was their schedules weren’t going to get any better from here on, so they might as well go for it.

  If they could do it, so could she. Some adjustments and making sure she wasn’t around any X-ray procedures, and she’d be fine.

  She felt insane herself right now, with the way her emotions were wildly swinging back and forth. Hormones? Oh God! Another symptom. She was going to hyperventilate.

  A cop pulled her over for speeding on her way home. She wanted to scream at him that she was with child and what the hell did he expect? But she doubted he’d be moved. He let her go with a warning, though, so it was good that she’d kept her cool. If Alexander Ross had to bail his daughter out of jail, he’d damn sure know something was going on with her.

  Oh, fucking hell, her parents!

  It was enough to almost make her stay on the side of the road and sob into her steering wheel, but then the cop expected her to move along. She put her car in gear and eased onto the road. Once he’d disappeared in the opposite direction, she sped off again.

  Thankfully, her mother’s car was gone when Gabby pulled into the garage. She didn’t have to hide her purchases from anyone as she climbed the stairs, and she didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing her dash the rest of the way, because all this movement had gotten to her and she was truly about to break her no-vomit streak.

  That accomplished, she sat on the toilet and opened one of the tests.

  It recommended using morning pee. “To hell with that,” she muttered. No way could she put this off another eighteen hours. Good or bad, she had to know. If it was good, then she could relax…though the odds of that seemed to decrease with each passing second. If it was bad… Well, she’d know what she was dealing with.

  Tossing the box and directions on the floor, she took the test. And then sat and stared at the little window that would seal her fate one way or the other. It would either give her one line for negative, or a plus sign for positive.

  Maybe she couldn’t watch after all. Lifting her gaze, she stared blindly at the peach-colored wall across from her, and the pretty matching towel with white scallops hanging on the rack. Above it was a picture that had been there since she was a little girl—a watercolor of a little dark-haired girl in dress and hat and flowing ribbons, holding a basket of flowers. Her mother had always told her she looked like that little girl.

  This wasn’t supposed to be happening here.

  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head down, and opened them again.

  A blue plus sign, standing ten feet tall on that white test strip, stared her in the face.

  “Fuck,” she breathed. “Oh, fuck me.”

  But that was what had gotten her into this mess.

  The blonde girl was definitely putting out signals, and Ian was picking up on them. She’d come in for a little infinity symbol on her wrist, which only took him a few minutes, but she was hanging around now looking through flash, trying to decide what she wanted to get next time, or so she said.

  And, well, she was hot. Blue-eyed and petite and wearing a bright, airy, summer-yellow top that hugged her hips just above jeans that accentuated her ass. The single guys were openly staring, while the taken guy—only Ghost at the moment—kept his eyes resolutely elsewhere. It was pretty funny.

  But Ian had given in to one too many clients in the past couple of months. Yeah, only one, but that one was more than enough. Cute as this girl was, she wouldn’t hold a candle to the woman still haunting his memories.

  He had never hoped for anything more with Gabby. Well, that was a lie. He’d hoped, but he was a realist too. When she had left the studio after he’d finished her ink a couple of weeks ago, there had been no plans made. No numbers exchanged. She’d looked a little sad, and he’d known it was good-bye. Maybe for good.

  Brian would probably mention her every now and then. That would be the extent of Ian’s updates on her life. He’d probably tell them if she found a new guy (because Brian would undoubtedly not like him) and if she decided to give the whole marriage thing a shot again. She wasn’t even gone yet, as far as he knew, and he already dreaded that day down to the very core of his being.

  The blonde gave him a glance over her shoulder. He’d been looking without meaning to, and her face lit up as she smiled at him. Shit.

  “I think I’ve found one,” she said to him. Her voice was too…girlish. He preferred the darker purr of Gabby’s. The blonde was obviously younger than him. “Can I set up an appointment? I want to make sure I can get in.”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  He plucked a card from the holder on the counter and looked around for the appointment book, finding it at last over at Starla’s station. She jokingly hissed at him like a cat when he took it. “All right,” he said, strolling back up to his new client. She could throw out all the signals she wanted. He was probably being a dumbass, but he wasn’t in the mood to have someone totally opposite from the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. “When were you thinking?”

  “A couple of weeks?”

  He flopped the book open and spun it around on the counter so she could see it. “I don’t work Monday or Tuesday, but I’ll be here every other day. It’s wide open.”

  She picked her day and time, and he wrote it on her appointment card. As he handed it to her, the door chimed, and when he saw who was coming in, he almost dropped it before it reached the girl’s fingers.

  Gabby spotted him and made a beeline. The blonde girl took the card from him, and before he could do anything else, she slipped something into his hand.

  “Just in case something…comes up,” she said. First he looked uncomprehendingly at her, then at what was in his hand.

  Her fucking phone number.

  “Hey…” he began, but she only gave him a grin loaded with suggestion and slithered away from the counter, walking right by Gabriella on her way out. Gabby looked at her as if she wanted to snatch her down to the floor by the roots of her hair.

  “Gabby!” Ghost exclaimed. “What’s up, bella?”

  “I need to talk to him about, um…a touch-up,”
she said, and something about the way her gaze held his made him feel like an insect pinned to a fucking board.

  Ian hadn’t noticed it, but Brian had come out of the hallway behind him. “Everything all right?” he asked at the same time Ghost said, “I told you.”

  “No, he did a great job. I just need him for a second.”

  And now everyone was looking at him, so he shrugged and moved toward her, doing his damnedest to maintain an air of indifference. Because whatever this was about, he had the sinking feeling it wasn’t her ink.

  But the door chimed as it swung open with a blast of Texas heat, and he was left waiting as Candace and Ghost’s girlfriend, Macy, swept inside. Gabriella and the girls exchanged hugs, but even her smile and chatter seemed strained. Candace didn’t keep her long, though, because she was bubbling over about something else.

  “Give this girl ink,” she said, shoving Macy toward her boyfriend. “Right now. I just got her to admit she’s thinking about letting you do it.”

  “Candace!” Macy laughed as Ghost’s face broke into a grin and he hugged her to him, playfully dragging her toward the back with an arm around her neck.

  “Come on,” he said, unmoved as Macy shrieked and struggled against him. “I’ve been waiting for this. I’m gonna ink you, baby. I’m gonna ink you so hard.”

  The girl must be pretty strong, because Ghost didn’t keep a grip on her for long, and Ian got the impression it wasn’t for lack of trying. Laughing, Macy twirled out from under his arm and ran to the waiting area. “Someday, I said! Someday.” She held a finger up to Ghost’s chest as he advanced on her again, but he only wrapped her in his arms and kissed her cheek.

  “I’ll wait on you forever, killjoy.”

  Ugh. Ian turned to see Brian and Candace in a similar position, liplocked, and Gabby smiling at them. Then her gaze flickered past them to meet his, and her smile faltered. Well. Whatever the hell he’d done, he guessed he was about to hear about it. She nodded her head toward the back, and for the second time, he moved to follow her as she walked past him. For the second time, they didn’t quite make it.

  “Candace? Candace.”

  Ian and Gabby turned in unison to see Brian easing his utterly limp girlfriend down to the floor, his voice panicked as he repeated her name.

  And, for perhaps the first time, he could imagine Gabriella Ross as a doctor.

  While the rest of them stood gaping in shell-shocked confusion, Gabby was at Brian’s side in a heartbeat, helping him lower Candace’s head gently to the floor. “What happened?” she asked, none of Brian’s panic in her voice.

  “She just…collapsed. What the fuck…? Candace.”

  “Brian,” she said evenly, “calm down. She’s breathing, she’s okay. I want you to raise her legs off the floor, about a foot…right there. That’s good.”

  Ian couldn’t see much of what was going on now. Macy was crowding in with Ghost behind her, trying to peek over her shoulder, and in this close-knit bunch, Ian was the outsider. “Should I call an ambulance?” he asked, darting toward the phone. Doing something, anything, instead of being a damn lump in the background.

  “No, she’s coming around,” Gabby said, still with that smooth tone. He didn’t fucking like it. It was so fucking fake. Fucking fake crooning doctors and nurses hovering over him while the overhead lights blinded him and blurred red through the blood pooling in his eye…

  “There she is,” Brian said. “Easy, baby. Talk to me.” His voice snapped Ian out of his waking nightmare. He staggered back a step, rubbing his hand across his chest. Inside flesh and bone, his heart pounded out of control.

  Through the rushing in his ears, he heard Candace murmur in confusion. She was okay. That was good. Now he needed to get the fuck out of here before anyone noticed he might just suffer the same fate.

  “Must’ve been some kiss, Brian,” Gabby said, and nervous laughter met her stab at humor. “You’ve got the girl literally swooning over here.” Candace apparently tried to sit up, but Gabby wasn’t having it. “Not yet, sweetie. Take it slow. Someone get her some water.” Ghost left to do that while Macy went down on her knees beside her best friend.

  Ian heard Gabby ask Candace if this had ever happened before as he found a chair and parked his ass in it. Despite his overwhelming urge to flee, everyone would wonder what the hell was wrong with him if he abandoned the scene.

  “No,” the other girl said, her voice small. “Never.”

  “Pulse is good. I’d check your blood pressure, but I’m assuming there’s no monitor on the premises.”

  “No,” Brian said.

  “You should take her to get checked out.”

  “I’m fine,” Candace protested, sounding a little stronger than a moment ago. “Must’ve been the heat or something. And I haven’t felt that great today, so I haven’t eaten.” When Ghost came back with a bottle of water, the group as a whole helped her slowly sit up and take a few sips.

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Macy demanded, and the question silenced the ongoing conversation as if a switch had been thrown.

  Oh shit. Ian almost chuckled as he imagined the look on Brian’s face. Most of the group was hidden from him by the counter. He could only see Gabby in profile.

  “Well…not that I know of,” Candace said.

  “That occurred to me too,” Gabby said coolly. “I just didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Yeah, leave that to me,” Macy said with wry humor. The door opened, and a trio of clients strolled in, stopping to exclaim when they saw the little group huddled around Candace. Ghost ran interference there while Brian lifted Candace off the floor, cradling her close as he headed toward the back with her. Indeed, he looked pretty damn pale. She clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” Gabby asked, and Ian jerked his gaze to her face. He hadn’t noticed her approach. He also didn’t like the assessing nature of her expression.

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. Apparently the latest diversion hadn’t made her forget her reason for coming here. As they headed toward the back, he heard her deep breathing behind him. Had Candace rattled her that much?

  “Do you think she’s okay?” he asked as he led her into the room where he’d given her her tattoo and closed the door.

  She frowned at him. “Candace? I think she’s fine. I think she’s probably pregnant, yeah.”

  “Damn. Brian’s gonna freak.”

  “I know. Considering her family…that would not be a good thing.”

  Yeah, he’d gotten that impression. “So, what did you need to talk about?”

  “We.”

  “All right, what do we need to talk about?”

  She fidgeted, crossing her arms, then dropping them at her sides, and finally, surprisingly, she burst out laughing. He might have been amused too, if her green eyes hadn’t misted up, if she hadn’t started looking as if she might now dissolve into tears. With both hands, she pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I can’t even believe this is happening.”

  He’d been apprehensive about what she wanted. Now, full-fledged dread settled deep in his gut. He stepped to her, gently taking her arms in his hands. “Gabby. Tell me.”

  “Ian…it seems I’m pregnant.”

  With that, her gaze lifted to his, hitting him like a lightning strike.

  And…he went…numb. To everything but her. The uncertainty in her eyes, the quivering of her bottom lip. Not knowing what else to do with the beautiful creature standing there, looking at him, waiting for…something, anything, he took one more step to her on jellied legs and drew her into his arms in mute astonishment. She went, burying her face in his shirt. Dampness promptly spread against his skin, her silent tears leaking through the fabric of his T-shirt.

  It was most single guys’ worst nightmare, he supposed…but to him…

  The numbness shattered, and he wanted to kick his own ass for smirking at Brian earlier. Karma had certainly bit him back fast over
that one. Christ.

  How the fuck had this happened? They’d taken precautions. Unless that one moment of fooling around in the kitchen had sealed their fate.

  “Are you sure?” he asked dumbly. She wouldn’t be here telling him if she wasn’t. But his mind wouldn’t settle on anything even remotely intelligent to say.

  “After three positive tests, I’m pretty sure. I have every symptom in the book.” Pulling away from him, she wiped her eyes with a finality that said she was done with tears. “It’s okay. I’ll deal with it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means don’t panic, because you don’t have to worry about anything. I’m going to have this baby, and no one ever has to know it’s your baby if you don’t want them to. And I know you don’t,” she finished with a tinge of bitterness that cut him.

  The words your baby caught and rattled around the inside of his brain. A baby. His baby. He didn’t know shit about babies. He had no brothers or sisters, so no nieces or nephews. No very young cousins. Walking by while a mother pushed a stroller down the sidewalk or in a store was about the extent of his contact with babies. “I don’t mean to be a dick, Gabby, but…you’re a hundred percent positive it’s mine?”

  He steeled himself for an outburst, but it didn’t come. “I’m going to give you that one, because I understand that’s a legitimate concern, Ian, but it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else. Not since my ex-fiancé.”

  He wanted to believe her. But Brian had stood in this very building and talked about how Gabby had gone a little wild, about how his mother had said there had been nights she didn’t come home. Granted, it didn’t mean she’d been out screwing other men…but she’d damn sure come on strong to him. He didn’t think he was out of line by voicing those concerns.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  He looked her in the eyes. Now he could practically see the impending outburst gathering steam. “If you say it’s mine,” he said at last, “then it’s mine.” And he meant it. Surely, if she had been with anyone else, if she had any doubts whatsoever about the paternity of this child, that other guy was where she would be right now. Not here, trying to pin it on someone who didn’t have shit to offer her.

 

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