Light Her Fire (Private Pleasures 2)

Rusty laughed. “Congratulations, Chief, you cracked the case.”

Josh wanted to punch something. Fuck it. So much for nailing down Justin’s whereabouts to anything except being inside the diner seconds before the fire alarm had gone off. He looked at Rusty. “You were here fast. Did you see anything useful?”

The red-haired man shrugged. “Only thing I saw was the smoke. I was walking into the Hungry Buffalo and hurried over. You were already here when I arrived. You, Kenny, and Melody.”

The deputy pointed at him, then Rusty, Dolores, Kenny, and Justin. “You five, don’t go anywhere.” He raised his voice to the rest of the onlookers. “The rest of you, please disperse.”

Shit.

…

“You can’t send a man into Dalton’s Drugs to buy you pregnancy tests, take them in front of him, and then avoid his calls.”

Melody used her shoulder to tuck her phone to her ear and resumed chopping veggies for a salad. “Roger, as soon as I know, you’ll know. Ellie took my blood this morning. She expects lab results Friday…Monday at the latest.”

“Six positive home pregnancy tests don’t leave much room for doubt. I was calling to find out what Josh said when you told him.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Melody!”

“False positives occur. I read up. There’s such a thing as a chemical pregnancy. Thirty to fifty percent of fertilized eggs end up as a chemical pregnancy, meaning I was pregnant enough to trigger the test, but nothing develops. Why have the discussion if it’s a false alarm?”

“The only reason you would read up on false positives is because you’re looking to validate what you know in your heart is an unfair decision. Are you worried about how he’ll react?”

“No. I’m not worried.” “Terrified” described her better, because if the man on the other end of the phone had taught her anything, it was that fairy tales and happy endings proved elusive, even when everything seemed perfect.

“He deserves to know he’s going to be a father, Mel. He has legal obligations.”

“I may not have gone to law school,” she snapped, “but I do realize that.” As soon as the words were out, she winced at her tone. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to start an argument. It’s just…I don’t know this guy, and you’re hesitating to tell him, and your hesitation makes me think you’re concerned he won’t step up.”

And that’s what she got for sniping at a loved one. “Don’t worry. Josh understands duty, and responsibility, and he’s not the type of man to shirk either.”

“Then tell him what’s happening so you can both figure out how to make this situation work.”

And there, in a hard little nutshell, sat the core of her reluctance. The realist inside her warned making things work would require a whole lot of compromise and sacrifice on both their parts, which, in her experience, meant there would be no happy ending. Meanwhile, the starry-eyed idiot living in her heart was holding out for the happy ending. The last few nights her subconscious had treated her to a recurring dream of a white cottage with a swing in the backyard, and Josh pushing a blond-haired, turquoise-eyed toddler who laughed and squealed, “Higher, Daddy!”

“I’ll tell him soon,” she promised. “I actually considered telling him yesterday, but the moment never presented itself, what with the fire at the high school.”

“Yeah. I heard you were right there on scene. What the heck were you doing at the high school?”

“Gee Roger, I don’t know. I guess you could say I was cheering Josh up—until we were interrupted by a fire alarm.”

“Cheering him up? What the…? Oh. Ohhhh.” He drawled the sound out as the full implications sank in.

“Yeah, ‘oh.’”

“Yikes. Sorry to hear that. Are they calling last night’s fire arson, too?”

“The sheriff sent debris to the lab to get an official ruling, but Josh is certain. Unfortunately that doesn’t put them any closer to finding the culprit.”

“No, but at least he doesn’t have to browbeat the sheriff into investigating, or battle with Buchanan over involving them.”

“Maybe. I think he still feels like Buchanan is interfering.” He certainly hadn’t seemed any less exasperated when he’d arrived at her place last night. Things probably worked much differently in a larger, more sophisticated department. He wouldn’t have to deal with small-town mayors or county sheriffs trying to tell him how to do his job.

She understood his frustration. His exhaustion had been harder to see, but by the time she’d fed him, sent him up to her bathroom to shower while she cleaned the dishes, and then wandered upstairs with the idea of talking to him, he was already naked in her bed…fast asleep.