Sacked (The New York Nighthawks 1)

Ember whacked his arm, and he dropped his hands, glaring at her. “Don’t be such a baby. She’s a woman. Women have sex.”

Nixon’s face darkened with anger. “How would you know?” he spat.

Ember glared right back at him and snapped, “Because I’m a woman.”

Nixon looked as though he might explode at any second. “And you’re speaking from experience?”

Ember lifted her chin and gave him a haughty smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I don’t.”

“Good, because it’s none of your business.”

I tuned out their bickering and pulled up a delivery service on my phone, ordering three pregnancy tests.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” Naomi suggested, pointing across the foyer to the living room. Then she dragged Ember into the room and pushed her toward a chair before turning to Nixon, who’d followed them, and shoving him toward the couch. “Stay in your corners, you two. I don’t have the energy to play referee today.”

I frowned at the reminder of how tired she’d been lately. I glared a warning at Nixon who immediately looked a little contrite, then I shot one at Ember who had a similar reaction.

Naomi sighed as she sat next to her brother. She held out her hand, and he relinquished his phone. After a few minutes of scrolling, and some muttering under her breath, she handed it back to him. “They’ll say anything to stir up drama. What’s worse, people believe it, or they wouldn’t stay in business.”

A knock on the door sent me hurrying to answer. The delivery boy handed me a bag, and I thanked him, giving him a big tip in return. Before I closed the door, he cleared his throat. “Uh, just so you know, sir, a paparazzi was camped outside the drugstore. I think they spotted what my boss put in the bag.”

I was surprised he’d been thoughtful enough to tell me, so I gave him a little more cash. “Thanks. I appreciate you sharing that.”

The kid’s chest puffed out proudly, and he nodded, then turned around and skipped down the steps toward his little red car.

I went back to the living room and crooked my finger at my fiancée. “Let’s go, baby.”

Naomi jumped up from the couch and hurried toward me, looking eager and nervous at the same time.

Twelve minutes later, we had three sticks with two pink lines.

12

Naomi

I couldn’t believe my eyes. When Nixon had told me what the media was saying about Prentice only proposing to me because I was pregnant, I’d thought they were grasping at straws for a story. At least until Prentice had asked me if I was sure and I took a moment to think about all the times he’d come inside me without any protection. And the fact that my period was due any day now, but I hadn’t had a single twinge or symptom to indicate that it was coming.

Even when I was peeing on the stick, I didn’t think the tests would actually turn up positive. But there was no denying that a kernel of hope had started to grow inside me as soon as Prentice suggested the reporters might be right.

“I’m really pregnant,” I whispered. Ember squealed and clapped excitedly while Nixon groaned like he was the one who might be sick.

“Damn straight, you are.” Prentice picked me up and whirled me around until I got light-headed.

When he finally set me back on my feet, I gripped his shoulders to steady myself. “Whoa.”

“Shit, sorry.” Sliding his arm around my back, he led me over to a nearby chair. “Are you okay?”

“You gotta be more careful with her,” Nixon chided, coming over to crouch next to me. “You look pale.”

Ember rolled her eyes at their fussing. I gave her my best puppy dog eyes, pleading with her to intervene. But she just folded her arms and sat back in her chair, content to watch the drama unfold. My glare promised retribution, but it only made her amusement grow.

“He’s right.” Prentice pressed his hand against my forehead. “You feel a little clammy, too. I should take you to the doctor so they can check you over and make sure everything is okay.”

“Or maybe the hospital. It’d be faster,” Nixon suggested.

I shook my head, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes at their overprotectiveness. “I am not going to the hospital.”

Nixon turned toward Prentice. “Maybe the stadium? I bet one of the team doctors would be willing to head over there to meet us if you asked.”

“Good idea,” Prentice agreed, getting to his feet.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t need to see a doctor right now. I got a little light-headed, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

My brother pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped at the screen. “It says here that dizziness is common during early pregnancy.”