Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
D eb grabbed a cookie and some coffee before heading toward the back, her movements purposeful as she tried to shake off the strange warmth curling through her. Brock had helped her—insisted on it, actually—and damn if that didn’t unsettle her more than it should have. She wasn’t used to men doing things for her without expecting something in return.
Setting her coffee down, she picked up a box cutter and got to work, slicing through the tape and flipping open the flaps. She reached for the paint cans she’d ordered for the Crumpton place, checking each one to make sure the colors matched what she’d requested.
Footsteps sounded behind her, and she glanced up as Gary walked in, followed by Hunter and Brock.
“Deb, those were the best damn cookies I’ve ever had,” Gary declared, rubbing his stomach with a grin. “If I were a few years younger, I’d marry you.”
Deb’s stomach clenched at his words, a cold wave rushing over her. It was an innocent joke, a harmless old-man comment, but it still made something twist deep inside her.
She laughed lightly, keeping her hands busy by stacking the paint cans. “Well, Gary, you don’t have to go to that extreme. I’ll make you cookies anytime you want. No proposal necessary.”
She could feel Brock’s eyes on her, sharp and assessing like he’d caught the slight hesitation in her voice. She didn’t want him to see, didn’t want anyone to see that his words had hit a nerve. It was just a joke. It shouldn’t have made her chest feel tight.
“Don’t tease me.” Gary passed with a chuckle. “I may take you up on that.”
Deb stayed quiet, focusing on unpacking the boxes, but her hands moved on autopilot. Her mind, however, was somewhere else—more specifically, on Brock.
She risked a glance in his direction just as he hefted a stack of shingles onto his shoulder, his muscles flexing with the effort. The sheer strength in his arms had her momentarily forgetting what she was doing. Damn. Her fingers faltered, nearly knocking over a can of paint. Snapping her eyes away, she took a steadying breath and forced herself to focus.
Get a grip, Deb.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a good-looking man before. But Brock was different. He was strength and heat and quiet intensity, wrapped up in a man who didn’t play games and didn’t sugarcoat a damn thing. That unsettled her the most because a man like that was dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with fists and everything to do with how he made her feel.
“We’re going to head over to your place with the shingles,” Hunter informed her, taking her away from her thoughts. “We’ll start early tomorrow morning and should have it finished before the next rain.”
“Okay,” Deb nodded, clearing her throat. “Thanks.” She said to Hunter, then glanced at Brock, who stood staring at her. She gave him a nod and then turned to start unpacking the boxes. Hearing the truck start and leave, she glanced over her shoulder, feeling relieved that they were gone. The less she saw of Brock, the better. She was going to make sure she was out of the house bright and early in the morning.
Once she got into the rhythm of unpacking deliveries, time passed in a blur. Box after box, she checked orders, sorted items, and stacked them neatly. The steady work helped quiet her mind, at least for a little while. After breaking down the last of the shipping boxes, she hauled them outside for Hunter to toss on the burn pile later.
As she walked back in, she stretched with a yawn, rolling her neck to ease the tension. Just as she passed the small, single-stall bathroom, a sound stopped her mid-step. Her brow creased with concern as she turned back and knocked lightly on the door.
“Just a minute,” Emily called out, her voice strained and weak.
Deb’s frown deepened. “Em, are you okay?”
The door creaked open, and Deb’s breath caught. Emily stood there, ghostly pale, a sheen of sweat clinging to her forehead and upper lip.
“Emily?” Deb said, alarm tightening in her chest.
“I’m fine,” Emily murmured, waving a shaky hand, but the way she hunched over, clutching her stomach, told a different story. Before Deb could say another word, Emily turned and rushed back into the bathroom.
“Emily!” Deb called out, her heart racing, and followed her inside without hesitation.
Emily was already on her knees, bracing herself over the toilet. Her body trembled as another round of dry heaves wracked her frame. Without thinking, Deb dropped beside her, gathering Emily’s hair and pulling it back gently, her other hand resting lightly on her sister’s back in silent support.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Deb said softly, even though panic was rising inside her. Seeing Emily like this—vulnerable, sick—was like being punched in the chest. Emily was never sick.
Emily didn’t answer, too caught up in her body's misery, and Deb swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm.
Once Emily stopped heaving, they sat together on the cold tile floor inside the stall, backs pressed against the wall. Deb had fetched wet paper towels from the sink, and Emily now held one to her forehead, still pale and clammy but slowly catching her breath.
“I hate puking,” Emily muttered, her voice a little stronger, though the misery still clung to her expression.
Deb gave a small smile, but her eyes remained laced with concern. “You weren’t the one always getting sick. That was me, remember?”
Emily huffed out a weak laugh. “I know. But when you puked, I puked too. Couldn’t help it. You’d gag, and I’d be right behind you, ready to hurl.”
Deb chuckled, shaking her head. “You always were a sympathy puker.”
They sat quietly for a moment. The silence wasn’t heavy, just thoughtful. But Deb couldn’t ignore the way Emily still looked flushed and weak, her hand rubbing absently over her stomach.
Deb turned her head and studied her. “Em?”
“Hm?” Emily murmured without opening her eyes.
“Is there any chance you could be... pregnant?”
Emily’s eyes snapped open, and she turned her head slowly. “What? No—I mean... I don’t think so.”
Deb arched a brow. “You don’t think so? That’s not a hard no.”
Emily sighed, dropping her head back against the wall. “I’m not sure, okay? I mean… I guess I’m a little late, but that’s not totally unusual for me. I’ve always been off a few days here and there. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Deb’s expression softened. “Yeah, but throwing up at work and turning ghost-white isn’t your norm either. And you’ve been tired lately. I’ve noticed.”
Emily groaned. “You sound like Hunter.”
“I’ll ignore that you compared me to that ass,” Deb said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “But seriously, Em. Better to know than sit around wondering, right?”
“I don’t know…” Emily murmured, her gaze drifting toward the bathroom door like it held the answers or maybe just a good escape route. “What if it’s just stress? What if I get the test and it’s nothing?”
“Then it’s nothing,” Deb said matter-of-factly, though a little crease formed between her brows. “But I gotta admit, I’m a little confused. Doesn’t Hunter want kids? I mean, I know you do because when we were young and dumb, you talked about it non-stop. You had that ridiculous dream board with your perfect man, perfect house, perfect kids, and a golden retriever named Muffin.”
Emily groaned. “It was Moose , not Muffin.”
“Even worse,” Deb smirked. “Anyway, you already found your perfect man. Well, perfect-ish. I mean, he’s no Chris Hemsworth, but he’s semi-sweet, loyal, and looks like he could crush a watermelon with his biceps—so, bonus points.”
“Be nice,” Emily said, shooting her a narrowed glare, though her lips curved into a half-smile.
“I am being nice. That was me being nice to Hunter. You should’ve heard what I was going to say,” Deb grinned, nudging her sister’s knee playfully. “But all jokes aside, Em… all that’s missing now is kids. Everything’s pointing to you being pregnant.”
Emily sighed, her body visibly sinking against the cold tile as she leaned her head back. “We’ve had so many false alarms, Deb. Every time, it’s nothing. I just… I don’t want to see that disappointed look on Hunter’s face again. He wants kids so badly. What if I can’t give him that?”
Deb’s teasing expression softened instantly. She reached over and took Emily’s hand, squeezing it tight.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low and serious now. “Listen to me. If— if —it turns out you’re not pregnant this time, it’s not the end of the road. You keep trying.”
Emily’s eyes shimmered, and Deb could see the fear swimming just beneath the surface.
“And,” Deb added, her grin returning in full force, “if you are pregnant, I demand full naming rights. I’ve already picked out the name Deblina if it’s a girl and Debonaire if it’s a boy.”
Emily barked a laugh, tears slipping down her cheeks anyway. “Hunter will never go for that.”
“We’ll see.” Deb gave her a teasing wink as she stood, then reached down to help Emily up. “Now, come on. Let’s go find out if I’m about to become Aunt Deb. Unless…”
Emily sniffed, still laughing softly, and tilted her head. “Unless what?”
“Unless you want to wait for Hunter,” Deb said gently, trying to hide the sudden lump in her throat. “You know… do the test with him. I mean, I’d totally understand if you wanted that moment to be between the two of you.”
Emily didn’t answer right away. She just shook her head and held Deb’s hand a little tighter, walking them both toward the office.
When they stepped inside, Emily knelt down and opened the bottom drawer of the desk, pulling out a small, pink box. Her hands trembled slightly as she held it up, tears gathering in her eyes again.
“The last two,” Emily said quietly, “I took alone. I just don’t want to disappoint Hunter again.”
Deb’s smile faded. She knelt beside her sister as Emily set the test on the desk. Curious, Deb pulled the drawer open more, finding three more boxes tucked toward the back.
Her stomach turned, and a deep, hollow ache formed in her chest. “Em…” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emily shrugged, eyes downcast. “It’s not a big deal.”
Deb let out a breath. “It is a big deal. You sat in this office alone with all of this hope and fear… and I wasn’t there.” Her voice cracked. “That kills me, Em.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to be here,” Emily murmured. “I wasn’t sure if we were really… there yet.”
Deb blinked hard and swallowed down the tight ball in her throat. “That’s fair. I know I haven’t exactly been sister-of-the-year material. But damn it, Em, I want to be here. I want to show up. Even if it’s just sitting outside the bathroom door while you cry and pee on a stick.”
Emily laughed, wiping at her eyes. “You really know how to make a moment magical.”
Deb grinned, nudging her shoulder. “It’s a gift.”
For a long second, they just sat there. And then Deb added, softly, “You don’t ever have to do this alone again. Not if you don’t want to.”
Emily’s face crumpled a little, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Deb stood and held out her hand, a teasing smirk pulling at her lips. “Now, let’s go find out if there’s a tiny Hunter in the making. Damn, that’s a terrifying thought.”
Emily laughed through her nerves as she took Deb’s hand and got to her feet. “I want a little boy who looks just like Hunter,” she said quietly, almost dreamily, as they made their way back toward the bathroom.
Deb snorted, eyes wide. “God help us all.”
Emily chuckled, brushing at her damp cheeks. “He’d be sweet. Strong. Loyal.”
“And bossy,” Deb added with a dramatic eye roll. “Don’t forget bossy.”
“Hunter’s not bossy, he’s just... confident.”
“Oh, honey, you’re deep in love if you’re spinning that man’s alpha tendencies into ‘confidence.’” Deb smirked with a shake of her head. “But hey, if your kid ends up with his loyalty and your common sense? That’s a damn good combo, hopefully, with your looks.”
Emily’s smile trembled with emotion. “You really think I might be…?”
“I don’t know. It’s either that or you have a stomach bug, which I probably will get now, so I hope you do have a little wolf pup or two growing.” Deb said honestly, softer now as they reached the bathroom door.
“Or two?” Emily frowned, and then her eyes popped open. “Oh shit. We do have twins in our family.”
“Yes, we do.” Deb laughed at her horrified expression. “Better you than me. Garrett and Janna also have twins, so the odds are absolutely in your favor of having twins. Now go on and take the damn test already.”
Emily hesitated for just a second before pushing open the door. “Thank you,”
“What are you thanking me for?” Deb asked, confused, waiting for Emily to walk into the bathroom.
“For being here… and being my sister again,” Emily said softly, her voice trembling as she stepped forward and wrapped Deb in a tight hug.
Deb froze for half a heartbeat, caught off guard by the raw honesty in Emily’s words. Then she hugged her back just as tightly, closing her eyes as emotion swelled in her chest.
By the time Emily gently pulled away and slipped into the bathroom, Deb could no longer hold it in.
The tears came fast—quiet, hot, and unstoppable—as she stood there in the dim light of the office, her heart full and aching all at once. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—being needed, being trusted… being forgiven.
Wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie, she let out a shaky breath and whispered to the empty room, “I missed you too, Em.”
And for the first time in a long time, Deb didn’t feel like the outsider looking in. She felt like family again.