Chapter 11
Nina wondered how she could feel amazing and awful in the exact same moment. Last night in Boone’s arms everything had been wonderful. Perfect. Better than the first time, though she wouldn’t have believed anything that good could be improved upon.
And despite all that glowy wonder still fizzing in her system, her stomach was cramping and miserable. A knot of tension coiled like a spring and she knew…
She scrambled out of bed and made it to the bathroom in the nick of time while her stomach’s complete revolt did away with all those wondrous feelings.
“Hey?” Boone knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”
His sleep-rough voice would’ve probably been a turn on if she wasn’t curled around the commode at the moment. “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
As if. The bathroom floor wasn’t where she wanted to linger. Although she didn’t really want to face him. Her dry heaves hadn’t been quiet. She really needed to do something about this stress. She’d been so content during their walk on the beach, with the soft breeze and the stars overhead. The stress of recent days had melted away.
And today she was right back in it .
Maybe she did need to make some changes. She would. Once she was sure that her motive was truly about the business rather than the threat of an escaped prisoner who wanted to make an example of her.
She hauled herself to her feet and quickly freshened up. Teeth brushed, hair tidied, and face washed, she opened the door. Boone loomed nearby, one shoulder against the door jamb. His eyes filled with concern as soon as he saw her. “You need tea,” he said decisively. “Here.”
“How long was I in there?” she asked. But the soft aroma in the steam rising from the cup smelled heavenly. Soothing.
“Weak tea is just the thing for an upset stomach,” he claimed. Putting the cup into her hands, he ducked into the bathroom. “Drink up,” he encouraged her as he closed the door between them.
She did, finding that the gentle brew tasted as soothing as it smelled. Hearing him turn on the shower, she meandered toward the kitchen and saw that he’d cracked open the windows near the table.
Outside, birds greeted the morning, their peppy chirps and trills a happy soundtrack for her tea moment. Surely, much nicer than waking up to the sounds of her stress heaving. She owed him an apology. Again. And a hearty breakfast.
Thanks to the tea, her stomach had settled and she felt clear-headed enough to get breakfast going. As nice as it was to be cared for, she wanted to do something special for him today. She chopped up veggies and was whisking eggs for omelets when he walked in.
“What’s all this?” His warm palm glided up and down her back.
She arched into the touch. “Breakfast. You earned it.”
“Did I?” His eyebrows bobbed up and down. “I thought we were equal partners. ”
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Stop.” She swatted his chest, barely resisting the urge to curl in close. “Not for last night. For waking to the unpleasant sounds of a stressed florist.”
“The tea helped?”
It did. Though the deeper she got into making breakfast, the less she felt like eating. “Yes. Can you brew another cup while I get these in the pan?”
He winked at her. “Always happy to earn my keep.”
“What kind of tea is it and where did you find it?” she asked, setting the skillet over the burner to heat. “For that matter, how did it get here?” She didn’t keep tea around the house. Coffee was her preference.
“You had it downstairs in the shop. It’s a peach and ginger blend and I only steeped it for half the recommended time.”
She’d remember that. She poured the eggs into the skillet, rolling it a bit so everything would cook evenly.
“The box is in the cabinet with your coffee,” he added. “My sister swore by weak tea when she was pregnant. I’ll settle up once the shop opens.”
“No need for that.” She could adjust the inventory on the computer later. Her mind screeched to a stop so loudly she would’ve sworn the sound echoed outside of her head. “Pregnant?”
“Not right this second. She has two little boys…” His voice trailed off and she could see the minute her fear became his. “No way. Are you…?”
They just stared at each other. And there was something gratifying about seeing him at a loss for words. She had no idea what to say. No idea how a pregnancy could’ve happened. Well, she understood the mechanics, obviously. But they’d been together once—before last night. And they’d been as careful with condoms last night as they had a few weeks ago.
She swallowed hard. She was getting ahead of herself. Pregnancy wasn’t the only explanation. Her stomach could be affected by stress and not…
The scent in the skillet caught her attention and she saved the first omelets from burning. Barely. Her stomach twisted and she willed it to calm the hell down. This wasn’t the time to become a cliche. She served up the first omelet, handed him the plate, and resolutely returned her attention to her own breakfast.
“Nina.”
“Not now.” She refused to look at him. Childish, maybe, but she was going to lean into it. At least for the next few minutes. She couldn’t discuss this and also make breakfast. Mainly because it was taking all her willpower to keep from racing back to the bathroom.
When she had her own omelet plated, she sat across from him. He’d eaten about a third of his food. She wasn’t sure she could manage that much. Maybe if she didn’t breathe too deeply or think too hard, she could eat.
The first bite felt risky and she took her time. The next few bites were better. As she ate, still avoiding eye contact and conversation, Boone tucked into his food with far more enthusiasm. There was something oddly satisfying about that. Food, feeding people, was her mother’s love language. Nina felt a rush of deeper understanding.
She didn’t take it as a good omen. She didn’t want to feel maternal. This wasn’t the right time or place. Not even the right man.
“Nina?”
She glanced up without thinking and the concern in Boone’s gaze shocked her.
“You’re pale,” he said .
“I’m fine.” Proving it, she shoved a forkful of omelet into her mouth. Whoops. The smell, texture, or sheer volume of food pushed her over the edge. She bolted for the bathroom and slammed the door closed. Sick and frustrated, this was the exact opposite of the point she’d been trying to prove.
A few minutes later, after cooling her face with a wet cloth and brushing her teeth again, she mustered the courage to leave the bathroom.
Boone had cleaned up everything in the kitchen. The only scent she could pick up was the tea. Somehow, she managed to breathe it in, taking comfort, without giving in to the scream building in her chest.
He leaned back against the counter as she sat down at the table. “If…” He shoved at his hair. “I mean. If you are, um—”
“With child?”
He gulped, color flooding his face. “Yeah. That. Are you sure it’s, ah, mine?”
Fury whipped through her in a hot second. “Yes,” she replied through gritted teeth. Before their hookup it had been a good six months since she’d had an interesting kiss . Not that her hiatus was his business. She didn’t want to admit that she’d gone a year without a sexual partner. “If I’m pregnant, we can do a paternity test.”
“If.” He snorted.
“We don’t know , Boone.” Before she could stop herself, her imagination spun out the fantasy of wonder and awe and joy. Carrying his child, raising a baby with his smile, his brown hair that turned gold in the sun, and those incredible sea-green eyes. That would be incredible.
Score a point for imagination. Logically—genetically—it was far more likely their baby would have brown eyes.
Then again, she wasn’t convinced they were having a baby at all .
Denial was a powerful tool and she would use it for as long as possible.
“All right,” he said brightly.
Too brightly. She watched him over the rim of her tea, wary of what he was thinking now. He pulled out the chair and spun it around, straddling it and resting his forearms on the top rail. Such an alpha-male move. And that smile, the flash of dimples, so predictable.
Her heart really shouldn’t be fluttering in response.
“We’ll go get a test. You can take it and then we’ll know if we need to deal with the obvious questions that follow.”
She refused to speculate about what he thought those questions might be. “Take it today?”
“Sure. You don’t have to wait for a certain time of day anymore.”
“You know a lot about pregnancy tests.” More than a man who wasn’t a father should know, in her opinion. She didn’t think her dad knew this much, but she wasn’t about to call him and find out.
“Sister,” he reminded her. “We’re close.”
“I’m close to my brother,” she said. “This isn’t a situation that I plan on sharing with him.” Nash would flatten Boone if he knew the truth. The potential truth. “He’s had enough opinions of you being my shadow all this time.”
“I’m sure he has.” Boone seemed to build connections with everyone. “I’ll be back in a few.” He shoved to his feet.
He was at the door before his intention registered. “No!” She scrambled after him, tripping over the edge of the rug. He caught her, drawing her in close to his chest.
“Easy. You need to be careful.”
She needed to be annoyed, but she was too busy being grateful that he’d kept her from an embarrassing fall. And this close, the scent of him enveloped her. It was a more effective calming agent than the tea .
That couldn’t be a good sign. She retreated, rubbing her hands on her shorts. “You can’t just go out and buy a pregnancy test.”
“I can.” He frowned. “Can’t I?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “I mean, sure, you can. But you can’t.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. “This is a small town, Boone. And it’s Sunday. Both the pharmacy and grocery stores are closed until one.”
She was pretty sure someone other than the security detail would notice Boone leaving and coming back. She should be worried that “someone” would be the prisoner still evading the police, instead she was worried it would be someone who was more likely to mention it to her mom.
She rubbed her temples. “This will sound dumb, but if you buy a pregnancy test here, word will be all over the island before we get the results back. I don’t want to be the subject of more gossip.”
“Nina.”
“Most of the time I wouldn’t care.” A small fib. She worked hard to make sure no one had reason to gossip about her. For the most part, she’d been successful—until Boone had become a fixture around town. She plowed on, “My point is, if I’m pregnant, I’d like my mom to hear the news from me first. And it’s still a big if.”
He lifted one eyebrow, daring her to mention the stress theory again. “Then what’s your solution?”
One glance at his serious gaze and she knew he wasn’t going to let her off the hook or entertain more excuses. As much as she wanted to tell Boone they’d worry about it once Spratt was caught, that wouldn’t fly either. He’d kept her safe and calm throughout this crisis and she owed him for that alone.
“After dinner, we’ll go into Charleston and pick up a test.”
“And between now and then? ”
She shrugged. She’d be up for anything as long as it didn’t revolve around discussing the future. “We’ll keep up the bodyguard and client routine.”
His eyes clouded over and she had the feeling she’d disappointed him. Again. She caught herself before she could apologize. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing wrong, only that neither of them was happy.