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  “They were good, quiet. I had dinner with Lindsay last night. Work was non-eventful. That’s about it,” she says, her voice quiet.

  She trails her fingers from my cheeks, to my neck, and down to my arms. She traces the tattoos on my arm as she has always done. Her gentle touch never gets old. She pushes me to my back, and moves herself on top of me, straddling me.

  “I missed you,” she tells me again as she leans forward, kissing her way from my chest up to my lips.

  “I missed you too, baby.”

  “Show me how much you missed me,” she says against my lips with a little giggle. In one fluid motion, I have her beneath me. She wiggles out of her tank top while I remove her panties.

  “I hate that you wear these,” I grumble and toss them to the floor before settling in between her long legs.

  “Landon,” she whispers, and I pause when there is hesitation in her voice. “Just make love to me. Nothing kinky, please—just be gentle with me.” Her request is distant, quiet.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just need this from you.” She’s never requested this before and I’m caught off guard. I sink into her warmth; she’s ready, wet. A soft mewl escapes her as I settle all the way into her.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I moan as I move in and out of her slowly. She hitches her legs up around my hips, allowing me deeper. “So. Good.” I kiss her between each word. Our fingers are laced together and placed on either side of her head. She rocks her hips slowly with mine in perfect rhythm.

  I’ve missed this, but I’ve missed her more. My pace remains slow and gentle, and I take in every breath, every moan that escapes her. Her hands move from my shoulders to my face, and when she opens her eyes, she holds my gaze. So many emotions lie behind those blue eyes of hers.

  “I love you,” she whispers as I move slowly within her. My stomach clenches at the sound of those words, and my heart aches when I can’t return them. The feelings are there, I think… but I won’t lie to her. I won’t tell her I love her if I’m not sure. I drop my forehead to hers and we ride out our climaxes together. No other words are said between us as she rolls over, pulling the pillow to her stomach again before falling into a peaceful slumber, leaving me with the words she offered, words that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to return.

  When I awaken, I find her already gone. The clock reads just after nine. “Shit,” I mumble to myself as I stumble from the bed. Dressing quickly, I make a quick stop for coffee and muffins on the way to her office. I don’t give a shit if she has patients this morning. I need to see her.

  I enter the double glass doors and flash a smile to the girl at the front desk, raising up the bag of muffins and the cup of coffee in my hand. She smiles back politely and waves me through the door to the back. I see Reagan standing at the tall counter at the end of the hall as I sneak up behind her.

  “I missed you this morning, Doc,” I breathe into her hair, just behind her ear. She turns quickly, a smug smile on her face.

  “I didn’t want to wake you. You didn’t even move when my alarm went off.”

  “Always wake me up. I want to see you before you leave.” I lean in and press a kiss to her lips. She pulls back and looks around the office area.

  “What’s that?” she asks, looking at the bag in my hand.

  “Breakfast. I brought you some coffee and muffins.” She wrinkles her nose a little.

  “I’m not feeling great this morning.” She rubs her stomach. “I tried to drink some coffee earlier and just the smell upset me.” She shivers.

  “You didn’t have coffee this morning?” I ask sarcastically. “I thought you’d spontaneously combust if you didn’t get your coffee.” She laughs at me.

  “Me too. I hope it’s not the flu. I’m just really tired and my body aches.”

  I notice that douche Adam Gerard has taken a seat at the horseshoe-shaped desk just a few feet away from us and keeps eyeing us. Reagan visibly tenses when she sees him. Tugging at my arm, she leads me toward the front office. “I have a patient that I have to see, but thank you for bringing me coffee and muffins.” She places a kiss on my cheek.

  “Anything for you, Doc.”

  “See you tonight,” she says as she turns around and grabs a chart off the wall before entering an exam room.

  My next stop is to swing by and see Lindsay. I have not seen her in over a week, and she rarely stays at the house anymore. I have no idea who she’s dating or where she is most of the time. I’m buzzed into the WXZI studios and wait for her to meet me in the lobby.

  “Hey,” she says as she rounds the corner into the lobby. She plants a kiss on my cheek and pulls me into a hug. “I’m glad to finally see you. How’s the job?”

  “It’s great. I really love it, the hours suck… but I knew that going into it.”

  “Yeah, you’ve been gone for a few days. I think Reagan was starting to get worried—so was I.” She purses her lips.

  “Hey, speaking of Reagan, is everything okay with her?”

  “Why are you asking me?” She pulls away and folds her arms across her chest.

  “Because she said she had dinner with you last night. She said she’s not feeling well, and she’s just acting different. Did she say anything to you?”

  “Different?” she questions. “You’ve been home all of how many hours?” She raises her eyebrow at me. “Let the girl be sick without you questioning every little thing. She’s fine.”

  I chuckle at my sister. She always puts me in my place. “I’m just worried about her,” I admit.

  “She’s not feeling well. Take care of her. Feed her some fucking chicken noodle soup and watch movies in bed. I have to go. I have to go tape a story.” She leans in to kiss me on the cheek again before she pulls away and starts walking back down the hallway.

  “Hey, where have you been staying?” I ask her as she all but runs down the hallway away from me.

  “Here and there.” She waves me off with a flick of her wrist and a sly smile over her shoulder. “Bye, Landon.”

  Why are all the women in my life such pains in the ass? The rest of my day flies by. Between briefing my sergeant, hitting the gym, and picking up soup, crackers, ginger ale, and French bread, Reagan beats me home. Her car is parked in the garage, and I park behind her in the driveway.

  Stepping through the front door, I find her asleep on the couch, a blanket pulled over her. I instantly feel guilty for getting upset this morning, thinking that she was giving me the brush off. I’ve never seen her asleep before six thirty. I begin warming the soup and slicing the French bread when she begins to stir on the couch.

  “Hey,” I say as I walk over to check on her.

  “Hey,” she says back as she stretches her long body on the leather couch. “When did you get here?” she asks as she blinks her eyes so they can adjust to the light in the room.

  “Just a few minutes ago. How long have you been asleep?”

  “A couple of hours. I left work early again. I just can’t shake this.”

  I press my palm to her forehead and then against her cheek.

  “You don’t have a fever,” I proclaim as I press my lips to her forehead to double check.

  “Thanks, Doc.” She giggles.

  “Smart ass. Go lie in bed. I’ll bring you something to eat, and I picked up some movies. Action or romantic comedy?”

  “Action. Please tell me it’s something with Channing Tatum.” She smiles.

  “White House Down. It’s your lucky night,” I exclaim with an eye roll. I reach out and help her to her feet. “Now go lie down. I’ll be in, in just a minute.” She shuffles down the hallway toward the bedroom as I head back to the kitchen. Juggling a tray with a bowl of soup, bread, a glass of ginger ale, and the movie, I find her lying in bed, curled up in a little ball in the center. She offers me a lazy smile when I sit down on the edge next to her.

  “You look miserable,” I observe.

  “I feel miserable.”

&n
bsp; “Maybe you should see a doctor tomorrow,” I suggest.

  “I am a doctor.”

  “You’re a vagina doctor. Your vagina is not making you tired or look like shit.” She busts out laughing at my observation.

  “I just need some rest. It’s been a busy few weeks,” she says as I set the tray on the bed next to her. Grabbing the movie, I turn on the TV that is attached to the wall above her tall chest of drawers.

  “Speaking of busy,” she says as she sips from the glass of ginger ale, “I’m heading back to Minnesota next weekend.”

  “For what?” I insert the DVD into the player and walk to the bed. I slide in carefully next to her.

  “My annual trip home, to visit Hailey,” she whispers.

  “How long will you be gone?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound insensitive.

  “Just a long weekend. I leave Friday morning and will be back Monday afternoon.” I brush the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

  “I’m glad you’re going,” I tell her, wanting to support her. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to relive that year after year. “But you’re not going anywhere if you’re sick—so let’s get you better.” I pick up the bowl of soup and hand it to her. Sipping on some of the hot broth, she cringes as she swallows it.

  “Too hot?”

  “No, I just have a really upset stomach,” she says, putting the bowl back on the tray. “I’ll try to eat something later. I just want to rest.” She curls up next to me, wrapping herself around me. I push the play button on the remote control to start the movie and, within minutes, she’s sound asleep. Her breathing sounds like little purrs, with each inhale and exhale.

  I keep the volume low so as not to wake her, but her sleep is restless. Finally, she wakes and rushes off to the bathroom. I follow behind her when I hear her getting sick.

  “Babe, are you okay?” I ask through the door.

  “Water,” she replies before she continues gagging. I hustle to the kitchen to bring her back a glass of ice water just as she’s brushing her teeth at the sink.

  “Stomach flu?” I ask, handing her the glass of water. She nods her head and spits.

  “Looks like it. You should probably stay at your house tonight so you don’t get it,” she says before sticking the toothbrush back in her mouth.

  “No way. I’ll be staying here to take care of you.”

  She puts her toothbrush in the holder before turning around and leaning back against the vanity.

  “I appreciate you wanting to take care of me, but I don’t want you to get sick too.”

  While she washes her face, I clean up the bedroom, shutting off the movie and removing the tray of soup and soda. Reagan crawls into bed and pulls the covers over her. I feel helpless, and wish I could do something to make her feel better.

  “I will sleep on the couch, but I’m staying,” I announce.

  “Go home. Sleep,” she mumbles at me from under the covers.

  “I’ll check in on you later,” I say from the doorway.

  “Landon?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I love you.” There they are again. I walk to the side of the bed and pull the covers away from her face. I press a kiss to her forehead—I hope my kiss will tell her what I’m unable to.

  “Call me if you need me,” I whisper as I cover her again.

  My text message to Lindsay is frantic, and her response is equally as dramatic. Within minutes of Landon leaving, she is busting through my door with a brown paper bag.

  “You’re overreacting,” she says, tossing the bag on my bed. “Go piss on the stick and get your sick ass back in bed. You have the flu. Tis the season.” She giggles. “I have to be at the station for the eleven o’clock news, and I’m going to be late—so text me if you have any news.”

  “We’re all late, Lindsay,” I mumble as I hear the front door shut behind her.

  I grab the bag and head to the bathroom. Lindsay came prepared with three different tests, all different brands, including one for early detection. Finishing up, I toss all three of them in the drawer on my vanity. I don’t need a test to tell me what my body already knows. I pull the covers over me and try to fall asleep.

  “Still no fever.” He presses his lips to my forehead and pulls the comforter off of me. “Are you going into work today?”

  “No. I feel like shit,” I grumble. “Why are you here so early?” The alarm clock flashes six o’clock.

  “I tried texting you last night and you never responded. I was worried about you.” He runs his fingers up and down my arms, giving me goose bumps.

  “Let me draw you a bath,” he offers, pressing kisses to both of my cheeks. He walks to the bathroom and turns on the water. I pull myself out of bed and walk to the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. It’s the only thing that sounds good. I pour two glasses and put the carton back in the fridge. Tucking the most recent People magazine under my arm, I pick up the two glasses of juice, in time to drop one of them when Landon’s voice startles me from behind. Bouncing off the granite counter and onto the tile floor, the glass shatters all around my bare feet.

  “Dammit,” I bark, deciding if I should try to step around the glass.

  “Don’t move,” he orders as he rounds the island and picks me up, carrying me down the hall to the bedroom. “Get undressed and in the bathtub. I’ll clean up the kitchen.” He kisses my forehead and disappears down the hallway.

  Before I forget, I send a quick text message to both Melissa and Adam, letting them know I’m sick and won’t be in today. I toss my t-shirt and pajama bottoms in the hamper, and pull my hair into a messy bun before stepping into the tub full of warm water and bubbles. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the quiet while I rest my head on the back of the tub and soak in the warm water.

  “Hey.” Landon sits on the edge of the tub.

  “Hi.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, a lot.”

  He reaches under the bubbles and finds my leg, pulling it out of the water. He starts massaging my foot and I can’t help but groan.

  “That feels so good.” My words are drawn out as I speak them.

  “Hey, you don’t say that when I’m doing other things to you.” He laughs.

  “You’ve never massaged me like that.” I raise my eyebrows and splash him with some water from the bath.

  “Say, I’m going to run a quick errand and stop by the house and grab a few things. Is there anything you need while I’m out?”

  “A strawberry shake.”

  “A strawberry shake?” he asks.

  “Yep. I’m craving a strawberry shake.” I smile at him and bat my eyes.

  He laughs and shakes his head at me. “A strawberry shake it is. I’ll be back in just a little bit. Rest until I get back.”

  “Bye,” I say as he leaves me soaking in the tub. I wash my hair and pull myself out of the tub, wrapping myself in an oversized bath towel. I pull open my vanity drawer to pull out my hairbrush and there lie the three white sticks. A plus sign, two dark pink lines, and the word “pregnant.” I feel nauseous as I brush through my tangled hair and find myself sprinting for the toilet yet again.

  I haven’t been able to keep any food down in almost three days, and I know that may be why I feel so weak and achy. I wash my face and brush my teeth before I call myself in a prescription of Zofran to help with the nausea. I need to be able to eat something and keep it down.

  I lie down in bed and my mind races with questions, with unknown answers, with fear. I let the stress and exhaustion carry me off to sleep as I wait for Landon to return. I have to tell him—today. A soft tongue and wet nose wake me up from my deep sleep. Ollie is on the bed and licking my face frantically. I can hear Landon’s heavy footsteps getting closer as Ollie continues to lick my face.

  “Goddammit, Ollie. I said to leave her alone.” He walks in the bedroom and sets down my shake and a bag. He walks to the bed to pick up Ollie and sets him on the floor. “And no dogs on
the bed, either.”

  “Aww, you’re no fun,” I mock him. “I’m glad you went and got him,” I say as Landon sits on the edge of the bed.

  “I figured since we were going to be here all day, he might as well join us.” My heart warms just a little to know that there is a little bit of compassion behind that rough façade. I smile and stretch as I kick the covers off of me.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “So much better. I’m not sure it’s the flu,” I say, knowing the truth.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon. I brought you your strawberry shake and I picked up a few more movies. Oh, and I even brought Scrabble over.” He grins. “I always win at Scrabble. I figure we can order some pizza later, and just lay low today.” My stomach turns when he mentions pizza, and I rub my stomach. “You need to eat,” he mentions when he sees me react to his mention of food. “You’re getting too skinny, and I like your ass.” He leans in and pinches my bottom.

  “Ow,” I say, pushing his hand away. I sit up as he gathers all the pillows from the bed and props them up. He sits next to me on the bed and hands me my shake.

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” I say as I sip on the milkshake. He watches me intently, tracing my cheekbone with his thumb. He finds my lip and wipes it when I pull the straw from my mouth.

  “You had a little bit, right there…” He wipes my lip again and sticks his thumb in his mouth, licking the strawberry shake from his thumb. Reaching for the shake, he sets it on the nightstand. “Good?”

  I nod and swallow. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before. “Raise your arms,” he says, sliding over next to me. He pulls the tank top off of me and tosses it to the floor. He pulls my legs and I slide down the satin sheets so that I’m lying flat on my back. “Lift,” he orders and taps my hip. I raise my hips and he discards my shorts and panties.

  “Gorgeous,” he says as his fingers trace small circles on my stomach. “Don’t move.” He gets up from the bed and pulls the comforter off, tossing it onto the chaise lounge. He begins digging through the bag he set on the floor just minutes ago, when I hear the metal clank, and my breath hitches. I don’t need to see them, to know what they are. He stands next to the bed with the handcuffs dangling from his finger as he searches for any sign of hesitation from me.