The Pregnancy Test Read online

“I’m trying. It’s just that, well, the guys I meet through work are either body-worshipping egomaniacs, or they think dating me is a great way to get free massages. ‘Hey, sweetie, could you just rub my shoulder?’” she mimicked in a low voice. “Either that or they think certified massage therapist means hooker.”

  Jenna laughed. Margo’s complaints hadn’t changed a bit since she’d left the day spa and rented space downstairs from Jenna-the-new-landlord, opening her own naturopathic shop combined with a massage-therapy office. “Someday the right guy is just going to walk into your life. Trust me.”

  “Perfect. And in the meantime, you share your love life with me. So tell me, what put you off Mr. Last Night?”

  “For one thing, he got annoyed when I bowled a better game than he did.”

  “Oops. Hate that competitive guy thing.”

  “Yep.”

  “What else?”

  Jenna wrinkled her nose. “He smoked. I had to come home and shower to get the smell off me. When am I going to remember to ask first?”

  “Strike two. Yuck. I don’t have to ask if you even bothered to kiss him good-night. Blech. Might as well suck on an ashtray. What was strike three?”

  “Strike three was three years old.” Jenna pressed her thumb and pinky together, then held up the remaining fingers. “I got to meet her because Joe was running late, so he picked me up before dropping her off at the baby-sitter’s. And while she was a sweet little thing, her daddy kept looking at me all night like he was measuring me for an apron.” She shuddered. “On our first date.”

  Margo burst into laughter again. “Oh, girl, he didn’t know you very well, did he?”

  Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Gee, thanks. With a friend like you…”

  “Just being honest. If a best friend isn’t honest with you, who will be?” Margo retrieved a black notebook from the end table. She traced the pink script lettering on the front. Take-Out Menus. “Here. Use some of your fantastic non-apron-related skills and get us some dinner. You owe me more than a drink for my furniture-moving services.” She gestured toward her empty glass. “I’ll take another one of those, too.”

  After some debate over which type of food they were in the mood for, Jenna ordered Chinese. Egg rolls, beef and broccoli and Szechwan chicken complemented the second batch of strawberry daiquiris. With a favorite movie popped into the DVD player, their girls’ night in was well underway.

  When the end credits rolled, they cleaned up. “You want to do a final drink on the deck?” Jenna asked. “It’s a beautiful night.”

  “Nah. I’ve had my limit, and it’s been a while, so I’m gonna go now. But thanks.” Margo picked up her purse.

  “Okay. Since I don’t have to drive, I’ll finish off that little bit of daiquiri I stuck in the freezer. Wait a minute and I’ll walk out with you.”

  They stepped through the sliding glass doors that led from the dining area out to the deck. A sticky August breeze stirred the branches of the oak just over the fence behind her building. Jenna set her glass on the railing, then lifted her face toward the sky. Clouds blocked the stars. She inhaled deeply, catching the distinctive scent of approaching showers. “Guess I’d better drink fast.”

  Margo headed for the stairs, pausing at the top. “By the way…” She pointed at the glow in the upper window of the house behind Jenna’s building. “Did you happen to get a look at your new neighbor? Very cute.”

  Jenna clamped her lips tight before the demand for a better description could emerge. Besides, the new neighbor she had seen was a little girl. Married men were off-limits. Nor did she want to date a single guy with kids. Hence no more Joe. It wasn’t that she had anything against children, per se. They were great at a distance. It was just the idea of being responsible for another person, especially a little one, was…overwhelming.

  She had enough problems with a dog.

  “Admit it, you really want to know. Tall, sandy-blond hair, nice shoulders and a to-die-for butt. Great-looking guy.”

  Jenna groaned. “Oh, that is so not fair. I saw a little kid. Damn.”

  Margo chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry. Hey, I’m not averse to kids. Maybe I’ll have to investigate the new neighbor and his hot buns a little closer.” She started down. “Night, hon. Catch you on Monday.”

  Jenna leaned on the railing, sipping her drink and staring over the fence. A to-die-for butt? On an off-limits dad?

  That really wasn’t playing fair.

  CHAPTER TWO

  FAMILY FUN NIGHT generally wasn’t much fun anymore, Sloan thought wryly as he accepted the pizza boxes from the delivery guy. Maybe he should take two aspirin first. Maybe that would make Brook’s sullenness more bearable.

  God knows he’d tried everything he could think of to make her happier, so maybe the fault was in him. Why couldn’t he find the right way to reach her? To connect with her?

  Leaving the door open to allow the early-September breeze to blow through the screen, he turned and hollered up the stairs. “Girls! Dinner’s here!”

  “Be right down, Daddy!” Ashley called back.

  He carted the pies through the living room and plonked them on the dining-room table. Paper plates and napkins graced each place, and Ashley’s “Friday Folder” from school was set carefully next to his seat. Second week of school down, and already the child’s responsible nature was a breath of fresh air for him.

  “Did you get me some mushroom?” the six-year-old asked as she trotted in.

  “Yeah, Peach, I got you some mushroom.” He grimaced in distaste and she giggled. “Where’s your sister?”

  Ashley shrugged. “I think she left as soon as you got home from work.”

  “Without asking me?” While dismayed, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Brook’s behavior hadn’t improved much in the three weeks they’d been in the new house. In fact, she resented the move so much she’d barely spoken to him, except for curt remarks and requests for him to get the DSL up and running so she could IM with her old friends.

  The friends he’d been glad to leave behind.

  “Any ideas where she went?”

  Ashley pointed out the side window. “Sometimes she goes to that jewelry store in the building behind the fence.” She flipped open a box, then stopped to stare at him. “Does this mean we have to wait for her to get home to eat?”

  “Family Fun Night has been a tradition for a long time. One Friday night every other week is not too much to ask for her to behave in a civilized manner and participate in this family.”

  Ashley closed the lid with a resigned sigh, then offered him a wide smile. “Okay.” She held out her hand. “Then let’s go find her.”

  He scooped her into his arms for an impromptu bear hug, then spun her around before setting back on her feet.

  The child giggled. “Hey. What was that for?”

  “Just ’cause I felt like it.”

  Hand in hand, they went out the front door and onto the walk. Their little side street didn’t have much traffic, in stark comparison to the sound of cars whizzing by on Twelfth Street. Passing the brown wooden fence on the far side of their driveway, they left the sidewalk to cut through the parking lot on the side of the commercial building. In front, a green-with-white pin-striped awning shaded the storefront walkway.

  The window of the first store displayed a beachlike scene. Colorful towels set off the jewelry: necklaces and earrings with golden sand dollars and seashells. Element-ry read the sign on the door. Fun Jewelry Inspired by Nature.

  Yeah, this place was right up Brook’s alley.

  As Sloan pushed open the door, a chime rang. He ushered Ashley inside. In the middle of the room, a tree reached to the ceiling. More jewelry, this time gold-covered leaves, dangled from the branches. The burble of a fountain competed with soft classical music accompanied by sounds of a gentle rain. Ashley let go of his hand and raced over to the water.

  A thud echoed from a doorway at the side of the room, and he heard muttering. “Stupid computer.” An
other thud. “Technology. Great if it works.”

  A moment later a woman appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed, her hands smoothing back her shoulder-length red hair. “Hello.” She flashed him a broad smile, one that chased the flustered expression from her face. “I’m Jenna Quinn, the owner. How can I help you? Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. My daughter.”

  “Your daughter?” She stepped closer. The blue-and-white Hawaiian-type pants she wore tied at the ankles gaped open as she moved, exposing slender calves. Her white blouse had billowy sleeves and a lace-up neckline that was only partially laced, revealing smooth skin with a light smattering of freckles and a very feminine shape.

  He forced his glance upward, face warming. What in the hell was he doing staring at those…laces? The store owner’s green eyes widened and she tilted her head slightly, and he realized she was waiting for him to answer her. He cleared his throat. “Yes, my daughter. She’s about yo high—” he indicated his chin level with his hand “—short, um…” He turned toward the fountain in the far corner of the shop. “Peach, what color is your sister’s hair right now?”

  “It’s regular today, Daddy.” Ashley leaned over the rim of the fountain’s base and gestured at him. “Come and see the fish!”

  “In a minute, hon. Okay, so Brook has brownish-blond hair. She’s fifteen. Pierced eyebrow.”

  “Oh, Brook! Yes, I know her. So you’re my new neighbor.” Her cheeks flushed again as she extended her hand.

  His fingers closed around hers. “Yes. I’m Sloan Thompson, and that’s my other daughter, Ashley. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Brook’s a sweet kid.”

  “Sweet? Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?”

  Tiny lines appeared over the bridge of her nose.

  “Never mind.” He released her hand. “Have you seen her today?”

  “No. But I know a lot of kids like to hang out over by Lakewood Park. Maybe she’s there?”

  “Where’s that? Is that the little park a few blocks from here?”

  She nodded. “Go down to Tenth Street, turn right, and head over a couple blocks. It’s right across from the church. Can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Da-ad!” Ashley called with the impatience only a six-year-old could muster. “Come see the fish!”

  Jenna laughed, a smile lingering again on her mouth. “Da-ad, you’re taking too long.”

  “Story of my life.”

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Moby and the gang.”

  “Moby?” He followed as she led him across the shop. The usual glass cases one expected in a jewelry store lined the sides of the room, but they had been decorated in unusual ways. One, filled with a thin layer of sand and beach towels, mimicked the front window display, and another contained a variety of real—well, probably not real, but silk—flowers surrounding golden imitations. A set of four-leaf-clover earrings in another case caught his eye. They looked familiar but he couldn’t figure out where he’d seen them recently.

  “The big guy there, that’s Moby,” Jenna said, pointing to a koi that was twice as big as the other three fish in the plastic “pond” at the base of the fountain.

  “Do the other ones have names?” Ashley asked.

  “Actually, no. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Can’t decide what to call them. If you have any good ideas, let me know, okay?”

  His daughter’s face glowed with the honor of being asked to do something as important as name someone’s overgrown goldfish.

  “Would you like to feed them?”

  “Sure.”

  Jenna reached behind the fake-rock formation and brought out a plastic bag filled with little pellets. Opening the zipper seal, she held it toward Ashley. “Take a handful, and then step back.”

  “Step back?” His daughter’s eyes got huge. “How come?”

  Jenna laughed. “You’ll see.”

  The fish were already swimming near the surface, bulgy eyes on the bag in the store owner’s hands. When Ashley tossed the feed in, the water roiled, splashing all over as they rushed to scarf down the pellets. His little girl giggled and clapped her hands. Jenna beamed at her.

  “That’s cool! Dad, look at them!” She turned to him. “Can we have fish like these?”

  “No, we cannot. Where would we put such a big fountain in the house?”

  “The basement?” she offered.

  “I don’t think so, Peach. I imagine it gets pretty cold in the basement in the winter around here.”

  “Tell you what,” Jenna interjected. “You can come over here and feed Moby and the gang anytime you like. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s very nice, but I don’t want my daughters making pests of themselves.” Not in a shop where the owner wore such…strange clothes, and all sorts of bangles—an earring that climbed the outer part of her ear, clanging bracelets on her wrists. “Well, we have pizza that’s going to be cold before we get to it. Let’s go and find Brook.” Taking Ashley’s hand, he headed for the front door. “Nice to meet you, Miss Quinn.”

  “Oh, please, not Miss. That’s just one step away from ma’am.”

  “My daddy raised me to be polite. He whupped my butt more than once for referring to a lady too familiarly.” Had he assumed wrong? There was no wedding ring on her hand, and she certainly wore plenty of other stuff. “Mrs.?”

  She laughed, tossing her head. Her hair—he was certain other women would kill for hair that red, and shiny—bounced like she was in some kind of shampoo commercial. “No, definitely not. Just call me Jenna. I don’t think that would be too familiar. After all, we are neighbors. I live upstairs. Besides,” she dropped her voice, “I promise not to tell your daddy.”

  He grinned. “Okay, Jenna. Like I said, nice to meet you.” The chime sounded again as he opened the front door and followed Ashley out.

  Jenna tried not to stare at his butt in the well-worn jeans, but hell… Margo had been right. It was a to-die-for butt, tight in all the right places, with the nicest curve. And the broad shoulders. She smiled to herself. What she’d enjoyed the most about her new neighbor had been the faint but adorable little twang in his voice. Brook had mentioned they’d come from Texas. The kids had even stronger hints of the South in their voices. But his voice…too damn cute. She’d love to have that little twang whispering words of passion in her ear. The man was hot, just like the state he came from.

  Too bad he was off-limits.

  With a soft sigh, she headed back to the office and the paperwork. Sinking into the chair behind her desk, she eyed the computer. “If I turn you back on, are you going to behave yourself? No more freezing up? I’d hate to have to whack you again. We’re friends, you and me.” She booted up the tower and prayed it was true.

  SLOAN AND ASHLEY WANDERED down Tenth Street, passing numerous other people out for a walk in the early evening air. A pack of kids on inline skates blew past, then a man walking a huge English sheepdog, followed by a few people on bikes. Apparently this section of Tenth was fitness central. It made sense, given the light traffic and the even pitch of the road.

  As they came to the corner across from a large brick church, Sloan saw the park—and Brook. Leaning against a picnic table surrounded by other kids, she faced away from him, watching a game of basketball taking place on the asphalt court. A puff of smoke billowed up from the group, and Sloan’s chest tightened.

  “Brook,” Ashley hollered before Sloan could tell her they were going to sneak up on her sister and “surprise” her. “Hey, Brook!”

  His older daughter turned around, and guilt filled her face. One of the boys jumped off the table and quickly ground something beneath his foot.

  Okay, so she was surprised anyway. Still, he would have liked a closer look at what her new friends were smoking.

  Please, Brook, do the right thing. You’ve got a second chance here to get your life on track. Sloan
plastered a false smile on his face and went to collect his kid. She met him halfway, casting a final glance over her shoulder at the other teens.

  “Dinner is waiting on you, kiddo.”

  She shrugged, raising the thin straps of the barely-there tank top she wore. “Didn’t realize what time it was. Sorry.”

  “You do own a watch. You do know it’s Family Fun Night. You left without asking or even having the courtesy to let me know where you were going.”

  “Do we have to do this here?” Brook tucked her short, bobbed hair behind her ear. Sunlight glinted off a small gold four-leaf clover.

  So that’s where he’d seen them before. Oh, hell.

  “Where did you get those earrings?”

  “These?” Brook fingered one. “From that store by our house.”

  “And you paid for them how?” Sloan had seen the price tag, and while not expensive by any means, they still cost more than a few weeks of her allowance. And saving had never been Brook’s strong point.

  “Jenna gave them to me. I did a favor for her.”

  “Right.” Just like the pharmacy back in FortWorth had given Brook the lipstick, eye shadow and nail polish. That had been one of the most humiliating moments of his life, when he’d been called to retrieve his daughter, who’d been caught shoplifting. Luckily he’d been able to talk the manager out of pressing charges, giving Brook another chance.

  Ashley tugged on Sloan’s hand. “Daddy? Can I play on the swings?”

  “Not now, Peach. Another time. We’ve got things to do.” First on the list was figuring out if Brook had stolen the earrings or not. So much for Family Fun Night.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” Brook folded her arms across her chest. “You think I’m lying.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered.

  “Why don’t you go and ask Jenna herself? She’ll tell you. She gave them to me.”

  “Maybe I’ll just do that.”

  They walked home in silence, and even the warmth of Ashley’s little hand in his couldn’t lighten Sloan’s mood. Already Brook was screwing up. When they reached the house, he nudged Ashley up the sidewalk. “You girls go on inside. Brook, warm up the pizza. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”