Chapter 10
Krista really didn’t want to go to the Christmas party, like truly loathed the idea of stepping foot into the rented room above the swanky hotel and having to face the questions, congratulations and curious stares of all her colleagues.
News had traveled like a wildfire in a windstorm about her pregnancy, and she was not looking forward to rehashing it with some and filling in the newly informed either.
God, police stations could be such gossip pools.
And if she thought being a field cop was bad, the gossip and rumors were ten times worse in the office.
She’d even heard one rumor that she was having twins and they belonged to two different fathers.
So, no. The idea of yuletide cheer around a bunch of off-duty cops while sober wasn’t what she had asked Santa for, not even close.
But Allie, one of the few friends Krista had managed to make on the force in the past six months, was going and had all but begged Krista to go when they’d run into each other earlier in the week.
Krista just wasn’t feeling up to it. And even though she now no longer worked nights and had bought a ticket to the party many months ago, thinking at the time it’d be fun and maybe she’d have a sexy new boyfriend she could show off, now things were different.
Brock wasn’t exactly her “boyfriend,” and she’d bet dollars to doughnuts he had zero interest in coming even if she did work up the nerve to ask him.
“You’re coming tonight, right?” Allie asked as they walked out to their cars. Krista hadn’t hung out with Allie in quite some time, not since she’d moved in with Brock. She missed her friend dearly.
Krista made a reluctant face. “I don’t think so.”
“What? Why?”
Lifting one shoulder, she hit the fob for her car. “Morning sickness isn’t always in the morning … or so it seems.”
Allie made a mock pout. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to stay late. Just come for the dinner portion and then you can leave. Do you have a date?”
Krista thought about Brock again. He’d most definitely say no. She could tell he hated parties. The crotchety hermit vibe was strong with her roommate-slash-fuck-buddy-slash-future-co-parent. Jeez, they should really nail down a title for each other.
She shook her head. “No. No date.”
“Well, come with Violet and I. We can all go together.” Violet was Allie’s wife.
The two were beyond adorable together and had welcomed Krista as a friend since her first shift, when Allie took pity on Krista’s newness and bought her a coffee and croissant, filling her head with all the detachment gossip.
“I don’t know,” Krista said with a moan, immediately irritated with herself. If she were Allie, she’d be pissed right off with Krista’s pity-party behavior.
But Allie didn’t seem fazed or irritated. She simply shook her head. “You’re coming, end of story. You already bought your ticket, and the food at this thing is usually good. Just come, eat, dance a couple of dances, and then you can go home to your cat, okay?”
Krista let out weighted sigh. Allie could be pushy when she wanted something.
Resting her hand on Krista’s shoulder, she gave her a friendly head tilt.
“I’m worried about you. I know you’re pregnant, and this wasn’t at all in your plan, but it’ll all work out.
I promise. I also hate that Myles kept meddling in the schedule for so long.
You know he deliberately had our schedules changed so that we never had a day off together?
” Her eyes grew wary, and she leaned in closer to me.
“I’m really glad you’re no longer partnered with him.
But still,” she glanced at the door for a second, “you just be careful around him, okay?”
A noise at a nearby car had both their heads snapping up from where they’d been bent tight together. It was just another officer heading home.
Krista was about to ask Allie to elaborate on her warning, but her friend simply smiled, gave her a side hug and was off to her car. “I’ll see you shortly,” she called, winking as she slipped into her black Pathfinder. “Don’t make me come get you.”
“Nothing fucking fits!” Krista screamed, throwing another skirt at the wall and then crumpling to her knees. Her head fell into her hands as the tears came on like a freak monsoon. “I hate this!”
A warm, fuzzy tail brushed her leg, and she reached out and grabbed Penelope, bringing her into her lap to nuzzle her, though she didn’t seem too taken with the idea of being used as a stuffed animal.
But once Krista scratched behind her ears for a few seconds, her tears trickling onto the cat’s soft fur, the beast began to purr and closed her big amber eyes.
A creak at the doorway made Krista’s head pop up. Penelope was not nearly as interested and didn’t even flinch.
“Everything okay?” Brock asked, looking about as lost as a man in a lingerie store.
“No!” Anger ratcheted back up through her, and she grabbed the closest thing next to her, a sexy red stiletto she hadn’t worn in years, and chucked it at his head.
Only instead of ducking, his ninja reflexes kicked in and he snatched it midair. A second later, and it would have conked him in the forehead. But the fact that she didn’t hit him made her even more furious, and she searched for something else to throw.
“You had to go and knock me up, and now I’ve got to go to my staff Christmas party tonight and I have nothing to wear. Nothing fits.”
She found a gray ankle boot and chucked it at him. He caught it and started to walk toward her, patience in his eyes and stride.
Only instead of crouching down to her level with his hand out, like people do when they’re approaching skittish dogs, he moved past her and began perusing her closet.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her throat tight as she fought back more tears.
Ignoring her, he continued to flip through various hanging items. A few seconds passed, and he emerged with two dresses and a skirt and blouse slung over his arm. “What about these?”
She rolled her eyes. “Probably won’t fit. Nothing fits.”
She went to grab the other ankle boot, but he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Just try them, okay?”
Growling at him, she stood up, much to the irritation of Penelope, and undressed.
“They’re not going to fit, I’m telling you.
Nothing fits. I’m getting fat, and it’s your fault.
” Snatching the red dress from his arm, she glared at him and unzipped it.
“I hate you … I hate your penis. I hate what your penis did to me.”
But he just remained quiet and waited for her to step into the dress. Turning around, she motioned for him to zip her up. She heard him grunt as he struggled to get it up to the top.
“It’s too small, isn’t it?” she asked snidely.
“Take it off and try the next one.” He unzipped it so she could slink out. He passed her the black one, and she pulled it over her head. This one didn’t have a zipper, so she didn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of it not zipping up to the top.
She moved away from him and went to stand in front of the mirror. It was long-sleeved with a scoop neck and came just above her knees. Classic and simple and hell if it didn’t look half bad. She shot him an irritated scowl. “Fine! You win this one, Hart.”
As if appearing almost bored, he lifted a shoulder. “Not about winning or losing. It’s about keeping you happy.”
Well, fuck.
More tears.
Krista’s butt hit the bed, and her face fell into her hands.
What the hell was going on with her? Hormones sucked, that’s what.
One minute she was a crying mess, the next minute a homicidal maniac looking for footwear to decapitate the future father of her child.
Sobs wracked her body. This wasn’t her at all.
“Shit,” Brock murmured, sinking down onto the bed beside her. His hand fell to her back. “I didn’t mean … shit.”
She lifted her head, her eyes stinging from all the tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the hormonal nutjob.” She sat up. “Did you know I bawled in the car on the drive home today from a song on the radio?”
His lip twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
“A song on the fucking radio, Brock. I’ve never cried from a song. Not even the really super emotional ones that most people cry over, like ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ and stuff.”
Brock’s breath hitched for a moment.
Oh fuck, right. His dad died when he was a kid, and that song was about father and sons. Shit, she really wasn’t herself. No, right now she was a terrible person.
She blinked back more hot tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean … that shouldn’t have been the song I used as an example. I know you lost your dad … ” Her voice caught in her throat, and new tears sprang from her eyes. “I’m really sorry.”
With a warm and throaty chuckle, he scooped her up, and she suddenly found herself on his lap.
“It’s okay. I happen to like the song.” Her lip trembled.
He tilted her head up with a gentle knuckle under her chin.
The pad of his thumb brushed along her bottom lip.
“Who are you going to the party with?” he asked quietly.
“My friend Allie and her wife, Violet.”
“Will that douchebag be there?”
She averted her gaze, searching the room for those damn ankle boots. The rumble in his voice turned into a gritty hoarseness. “Krista?”
She found her boots and slipped off his lap to go and step into them.
Her brain was so easily muddled when he was touching her.
“It’ll be fine. There’ll be a bunch of people there.
Cops, don’t forget. I’ll just avoid him and stay close to Allie.
Plus, everyone knows I’m pregnant now. It’s the talk of the station. ”
Ignoring her again, he pushed past her with a low and beastly growl, leaving the room. And she thought she was moody. One minute he was the nicest, sweetest, most incredible guy, and then the next, he was a grumbling, growling bear with more animal sounds than words. He could be such an ass.