Perfect Fit (Serendipity's Finest 1)

SIX WEEKS LATER…

If this case didn’t end soon, Erin would either pass out on the desk in front of the judge, the jury, and the entire courtroom or she’d throw up on her brand-new shoes. I

t was a toss-up which would happen first. Judge White, whose hair matched his name, droned on with jury instructions, while for Erin, the next twenty minutes passed in a blur of nausea and exhaustion. Finally she heard the blessed sound of the gavel adjourning them for the day, and she dropped her head to the table with a thud.

“Don’t worry, I took notes on everything the judge said and there wasn’t anything we didn’t anticipate or I’d have objected,” Trina Lewis, Erin’s second chair for this trial assured her.

“Thanks,” Erin mumbled into the desk.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Bathroom before we go home?”

Erin forced her head up. “Yeah. Please.”

Trina had already gathered Erin’s things and put them into her bag and together they walked out of the courtroom. To her relief, most everyone had already left, so she didn’t need to deal with people.

“Erin, umm, can I talk to you?” Trina asked as she pushed open the door to the ladies’ room and they stepped inside.

“Of course.”

Trina had been working in the D.A.’s office for the last two years, and as the only two female lawyers, she and Erin had become good friends. No professional jealousy or posturing between them, Trina was Erin’s escape from the male posturing when she needed one and visa versa.

Before speaking, Trina checked underneath the stall doors to make sure they were empty. Ever since Lyle Gordon, the lazy bastard who just happened to be the defense attorney on their current case, had posted his paralegal in here to overhear anything that could help him win, Erin and Trina were extra careful about where they spoke and in front of whom.

“All clear,” Trina said.

“What’s up?” Erin turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face.

“Don’t you think this is the longest stomach virus in the history of the world?” Trina ripped a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to Erin.

“It’s getting better,” Erin lied.

“No, it’s not. You’ve been sick for two weeks. So while you were sipping tea in the cafeteria during lunch, I ran out to the pharmacy and bought you this.” She held out a brown paper bag.

Erin narrowed her gaze, cautiously accepting the bag. “What’s in it?” She didn’t wait for Trina to answer, peeking instead. “A pregnancy test?” Erin shrieked before slapping her hand over her own mouth. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been working twenty-four/seven for I don’t know how long. I can’t remember the last time I used my battery-operated friend, never mind had a real man.”

“Liar,” Trina said for the second time.

Erin scowled at her friend. They both knew she remembered the exact last time she’d had a real man. Six and a half weeks ago and Erin recalled every perfect, muscular inch of Cole Sanders and their night together.

Their safe night. He’d used protection each time, and there’d been many. Besides, what were the chances the one and only time she’d stepped outside her comfort zone, something life altering had actually happened? Fate wouldn’t do that to her after all her years as a good girl. Would it?

Erin regretted having shared vague details with Trina, who now stood next to her pointing to the offending test box that every woman on the planet recognized.

“Take it,” Trina ordered.

“I can’t be pregnant.” Erin’s stomach revolted at the very thought and every nerve in her body shouted in denial.

“Good. Then prove me wrong and I’ll take you to the doctor to find out why you’ve been nauseous for two weeks straight.” Trina pinned her with a gaze that had potential defendants shaking and crying for mommy.

“Fine.” Erin grabbed the box and headed for the private stall. Her hands shook so badly she was barely able to read, let alone follow the instructions. But a few minutes later, she and Trina were waiting in uncomfortable silence for the clichéd pink or blue line.

As the second hand of her watch ticked slowly by, Erin thought about Cole. He’d deliberately steered clear of her in the time since their night together. The most contact she’d had with him was a tip of his head before he’d walked out the door of Cuppa Café. Erin would have been more comfortable with a friendly chat to dispel the lingering tension inside her but Cole made it clear that one night meant just that. They weren’t even destined to be friends.

She couldn’t pretend his indifference didn’t hurt and wished he’d leave their small town so he wouldn’t be a permanent reminder of her one step outside the lines.

She couldn’t be pregnant and not with his baby. She could think of no worse, no more awkward scenario and her stomach lurched at the possibility.

“Ding!” Trina’s too-cheerful voice shook her out of her painful thoughts.