Mistletoe Baby (Crescent Cove 9.50) - Page 39

I did some math in my head and it wasn’t good. Not good at all. “Damn you, Crescent Cove water.”

I rose and stared at myself in the mirror. My face was a bit pale, but otherwise, I looked the same. I’d swapped out my Christmas smock for a Valentine’s day one over my skinny jeans and fuzzy sweater.

And

now I had to pee.

“Shoot.” I hung up my smock and started unbuttoning my jeans. Then I hesitated. Should I hold it for a pee test?

Did I want to get a pregnancy test here?

Everyone would know I’d gotten one. As it was, people still asked me if I had talked to the hot artist from the festival.

The answer was no.

No, I had not, and I didn’t intend to.

Not really.

Probably not.

But now?

Quickly, I did my business and washed my hands. I took my smock with me, but I hung it up in our little locker area. I didn’t have a customer for another hour. That was just enough time to go to the pharmacy in the next town over.

I really didn’t want to be the next bit of gossip fodder in this town.

But if I was pregnant…

The timing was all wrong. The situation was crazy. I wasn’t ready to be a mother.

Or was I?

Eleven

My car was the cause of my life stress.

I should sell it.

Burn it?

Nah, too hasty. Selling it was a good idea. To someone far enough away that I would never take the chance of seeing it again on the street. A person in Idaho, for example. I never went to Idaho. That had to be safe.

I even went online and searched for a small town in that state with a dealership that might want to buy back my baby. I was that desperate.

Or insane, take your pick.

I’d stayed up too late grading papers several nights in a row, which had led to a recent dependence on Death by Coffee. Turned out they weren’t lying. Once you got on that stuff, it was hard to get off of it.

Who needed sleep, right?

Well, it turned out I did. Since my breakup—did it count as a breakup if our entire relationship had lasted under thirty-six hours?—and the start of the semester had worn me raw, I obviously should not be making big life choices.

So, naturally, I made several.

I didn’t sell my car. I did, however, agree to move my appointment for custom work to mid-February. Specifically, February 14th. A day I was guaranteed not to be busy, since I’d been dropped faster than tequila made a woman’s clothes come off.

Also, I was never voluntarily listening to the country channel on satellite radio again.

Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance
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