Stumbling Into Love (Fluke My Life 2)

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just wait until after I see the doctor. What if the tests are wrong?”

“I don’t think five tests could be wrong, so I don’t think you need to worry about that. But if you think you need to wait a little before telling him, I get that. I just wouldn’t wait too long. You don’t want it to turn into you keeping the news from him. If he finds out that you’ve known for a long time and not told him, that’s how he’s going to feel. Like you were hiding it from him.”

“You’re right. I’ll tell him tomorrow,” I say, then shake my head. “Or after the weekend.”

I need more time to process, and I do want to see a doctor before I tell him, just to be sure.

“Mom is going to freak. She was excited about Fawn getting married, and now you have just blown that news out of the water. The only way this could be any better is if you’re pregnant with twins.”

“Shut up.” The idea alone makes me panic. I’ve barely wrapped my head around the idea of one baby—I don’t know what I would do with two.

“Just reminding you that they do run in our family . . .”

She grins, and I smack her knee.

“You are so evil!” I laugh, and she stands and then helps me up.

“Come on. I want to show you the dress I got for you.”

“Is it anything like our Halloween dresses from a few months ago?” I ask.

She grins. “No, and I didn’t pick those out. You did.”

“I know.”

I shake my head at the reminder of how stupid I was. On Halloween, I decided that I would once and for all get Edward—aka Sir Dick the Cheater—to notice me by dressing up with my sisters for a Halloween party at Jack’s. We went as prostitutes, and that was where things started to go downhill. Our coats got stolen, the second thing that happened, then what topped it all off was getting stopped by the police because they thought we were really prostitutes.

“Are you ready?” Libby asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I blink. Seeing the navy-blue, floor-length, V-neck lace dress lying across the bed, I gasp. It’s perfect, so perfect. Wesley is going to freak out when he sees me in it. Most officers are working tonight, but Wesley got off so that he could attend a New Year’s Eve charity ball with me. Jack’s hosts it every year. The money raised tonight will be donated to a children’s baseball charity that Jack’s runs to provide inner-city kids with training, uniforms, and travel expenses. I love it, and I love the cause.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, running my hand down the soft material.

“Duh.” Libby nudges my shoulder. “I’m good at what I do.”

“You really are good. Thank you so much for this.”

“You know, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.”

A couple of years ago, Libby started up a little side business. She basically rents out items from other people’s closets. Things that can be worn only once by the owner, like the dress on the bed. The person renting the item puts down a large deposit before receiving the dress, then after she wears it, she returns it to Libby, who has the item cleaned and returns it to its original owner, like new. I haven’t asked her how much she’s made so far, but I know that she’s been somewhat successful with her new venture.

“I say we do your hair up and to the side. Your makeup needs to be dramatic.”

“You can do whatever you want,” I tell her.

She raises a brow at me. “Anything?”

“Anything.” I wiggle my brows back.

“You never let me do whatever I want.”

“Well, tonight is your night. My only stipulation is that you make me look beautiful.”

“I don’t need to make you beautiful. You already are beautiful.”

My face softens.

“I’m just going to make you look like a sex goddess.”

I smile when she says this. “This sex goddess needs a shower first.” I walk past her toward the bathroom, asking, “So what are your plans for the night?”

“I told Antonio I would come in and help him out since it’s New Year’s Eve. I will most likely ring in the new year covered in flour and smelling like pizza.”

“Have things been better between you two?”

“We don’t really talk. He grunts at me every once in a while, but for the most part we don’t speak,” she says, sounding disappointed.

I tip my head to the side to study her.

“You like him,” I say.

She shrugs. “A little, but it doesn’t matter. He will never see me as anything more than a pretty face, and I will probably always think he’s a Neanderthal.”

“But—”

“No.” She cuts me off before I can convince her that maybe she’s wrong. “Go shower before I change my mind about doing your hair and makeup.” She shoves me back toward the bathroom, then closes the door, leaving me no choice but to drop it.

“Holy shit.”

The look in Wesley’s eyes when I open the door lets me know that the last few hours of torture have been so worth it. After showering, and shaving everything, Libby spent an ungodly amount of time blowing out my hair. Then she spent an even longer amount of time curling it before putting it in a crazy updo that is being held together by at least a thousand bobby pins. If there is a metal detector at the door tonight, I know I will set it off. After she finally finished my hair, she did my makeup similar to the way she did it the night Wesley and I met—smoky and mysterious. The makeup and hair both look amazing, but the dress . . . the dress is everything. The dark blue looks fabulous with my red hair and fair skin, and the cut is beyond sophisticated and sexy. I look classy and hot, if I do say so myself.

“Holy shit.”

“You said that already.” I smile.

His eyes travel from my feet back up to my cleavage. They pause there for a moment before he meets my gaze once more.

His eyes are so dark with desire that my breath catches.

“Holy shit,” he repeats again.

I laugh.

“Gorgeous. You look . . .”

“She looks like a sex goddess,” Libby says from my side.

Wesley looks at her, nodding and adjusting the tie around his neck.

“She does,” he agrees. His eyes come back to me. “I don’t know whether to show you off or hide you away.” He wraps his hand around my hip and brings himself closer to me. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I tip my chin back to accept his kiss, then take hold of the lapels of his tux. “You look handsome. So very, very handsome.”

“Okay, you both look great. As much as I want to stand here and watch the love fest you have going on, I need to leave, so you are going to have to stop blocking the door.” Libby breaks into our moment.

I laugh, turning to watch her put on her jacket.

That’s when I notice her feet. “What the hell are those?” I point to the Converse sneakers she has on.

“They’re called shoes.” She rolls her eyes.

I feel my own eyes widen. “I know that, but you don’t wear sneakers. What the hell is going on?”

“Okay, drama llama, it’s not a big deal. I need to wear sneakers since I’m going to be on my feet running around, answering phones, and waiting tables all night.” She kisses my cheek, then Wesley’s. “Have fun tonight!” she calls over her shoulder as she heads down the steps.

I watch her until she is out of sight.

“She never wears sneakers,” I say out loud to myself.

“She’s gonna be busy. She wants to be comfortable,” Wesley says, walking me backward into my apartment. When he shuts the door, I snap out of my thoughts and blink at him.

“What are you doing?” I step away from him, but he steps closer again. “We have to go or we are going to be late.”

“We won’t be late.”

“If you touch me, we will be late.” I sidestep him, then grab my coat and slip it on. I tie the belt as tight as I p

ossibly can and hold the ends so he can’t rip it open.

“Just one little touch.”

“You can touch me later.” I grin at the pout he gives me. He looks like a little kid who’s just been told he’s not allowed to have more candy. “Come on.” I take his hand to lead him out of the apartment but squeak as he picks me up, bride-style. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you so that you don’t break your neck on the way down the stairs. I want to be able to touch you tonight, and that will be impossible if you’re in a full-body cast.”