Page 114 of Maple Mountain
“Don’t, Archer.Don’t say anything because whatever you say, I’ll believe you.And men have lied to me in the past.I can’t take any more lies.”I swallowed.“I’m sorry I yelled at Nancy.”
“Don’t be.”
I refused to wrap my arms around him.If I did, I’d want to burrow deeper and my resolve not to fall into bed with him again would go out the window.
“We gonna talk about it?”he asked.
“Talk about what?”
“Talk about the fact that I was inside you without a condom.”
“Back to that, are we?”
He pulled away ever so slightly so he could stare down at me.“Back to that?We touched on it briefly but didn’t really establish anything.”
“Don’t worry about it, Archer.”I shoved out of his arms.“I’m not gonna get pregnant.”
“Are you on birth control?”he asked.
I swallowed.“No.Not anymore.”
“Then there’s a possibility?—”
“No, there’s really not,” I informed him.
I hoped to see relief wash over his face.Instead, all I saw was a man staring at me with intensity that stripped me down to my marrow.
Without another word, I turned and fled up the stairs into the bathroom.I took a scalding shower and washed his seed from my belly.
Wishing I wasn’t such a colossal idiot.
ChapterTwenty-Four
The Bookstore
Friday morning, I met my best friends at Poet’s bookstore that was opening to the public that night.Salem, Hadley and I were helping Poet with the kind of last-minute details that only came together right before a grand opening.
The beeswax candles in antique china teacups had finished curing and Poet asked me to arrange them into a display.
“No,” Poet said with a shake of her head.“Not like that.Like this ...”
With a smirk, I handed the project over to her and then shot Salem a look.
Someone’s a little on edge.
“There,” Poet said as she stepped back.“What do you think?”
“I think you have a gorgeous bookstore and tonight everyone else will finally get to see it,” I said.
Poet had sent out invitations to every business in town and had also run an announcement in the Huckleberry Hill Crier, the town’s local paper.I had no doubt there would be a good turnout.
“Oh no,” Poet whined, her hand covering her mouth.
“What?”Hadley asked in concern.“What’s wrong?”
Poet ran to the back of the bookstore to the bathroom and threw up.The sound traveled across the space.
I wrinkled my nose.“Morning sickness or nerves?”
