The Baby Gamble (Texas Hold'em)

Annie sipped her wine, thinking about the fact that very soon she might be off the stuff.

Not that she’d ever been on it, other than an occasional glass like the one she’d had the other night. Or a binge, once or twice a year, with her best friend. Which usually meant three or four glasses over the course of an evening instead of just one.

“Annie?”

“Tell you what?”

“About Blake.”

She’d been trying her hardest not to think about him. Had purposely steered away from his part of town when they’d been in San Antonio. And had issued firm reprimands to herself when she’d realized she was eyeing the backs of tall men everywhere they went.

She’d get it under control. They just had to get the deed done. And then she’d be all right.

Annie glanced over at her friend, unable to understand the wariness in her heart. Becky was her safe place. She trusted Becky with her life. What could Annie possibly have to be afraid of?

“Who told you?” she asked, playing for a little time.

Becky’s sweet smile comforted her even while it struck fear in her heart. “No one told me,” she said. “It’s the fact that you haven’t mentioned him once all day that told me.”

And that’s why Annie was uneasy. Becky knew her too well. Saw too much.

Suddenly, terrified about what else her friend might see, mostly those things that Annie couldn’t recognize herself, she said, “He’s going to do it,” as nonchalantly as possible.

“What?” Becky tipped her wineglass, catching it just before the red liquid spilled out on the thick beige carpet.

Annie nodded, liking the way the dimmed overhead lights glistened. Or at least appreciating the distraction of them.

Becky’s mouth hung open. “What did you say?”

“That I’d call when I’m fertile.”

“You’re going to do it?”

With a pained smile, Annie twirled her own wineglass between two fingers, staring at it. “Who knows?” she said, looking over and back very quickly. The wine blurred and Annie blinked. “It changes from second to second.”

This was Becky. Annie couldn’t not be honest with her. Lying wouldn’t do her any good, anyway. Becky would see right through her and then pounce on the fact that she’d felt the need to hide behind a less-than-truthful position.

Finally, facing her friend’s gaze head-on, Annie said, “I can’t think of a better man to father my child, you know?”

Becky sipped slowly, watching her. The plate of food between them lay pretty much forgotten. “He does fit all of your criteria.”

Except that he wanted to be a father to her child and not just the gene donor of one.

“And Cole’s now completely gung-ho,” Annie added, thinking of the call she’d had from her brother early that morning. He’d just gotten off the phone with Blake, who, as best Annie could tell, had been thoroughly harassed by her well-meaning sibling until he’d obtained the information he’d been after.

The fact that Cole had called Blake and not her rankled. But she didn’t have the energy to make an issue of it—inside herself or with Cole.

“He offered to help with the nursery.”

“He obviously hasn’t been here in a while.”

“Not since Roger left. There’s no place for him to sit. We either go out or to Mom’s. Or to his place. He’s doing a great job on the house, and it’s kind of fun watching the progress.”

“I care about Cole, Ann, but we’re not getting off track here.”

“There really isn’t much else to say,” she told her friend, crunching on a wedge of apple that she didn’t want.

“You said you’d call him when you’re fertile. What does he care when that is?”