The Trouble with Tomboys (Tommy Creek #1)(31)

93



Linda Kage





Chapter Eight


Two days later, B.J. sat in the doctor’s office, numb and dazed. The twenty-seven-year-old tomboy of Tommy Creek, Texas was pregnant.

“I’m going to give you a list of over-the-counter prenatal vitamins,” Dr. Carl told her. He was the only gynecologist for a hundred miles, so B.J. had scheduled an appointment with him. Now she wished she’d just taken one of those home pregnancy things, because hearing a professional’s word on the subject made this feel way too real and unavoidable.

“What I want you to do is choose one brand and start taking it immediately. Your body needs all sorts of nutrients it didn’t before, and your remaining healthy is of the upmost importance.

Now, don’t forget to schedule an appointment with Lara at the front desk for next month before you leave. And here’s a couple pamphlets you need to read through.”

Too stunned to argue with the man, B.J. nodded, slipped the pile of papers from his hand with limp fingers, and walked like a zombie toward the secretary’s desk.

Dr. Carl’s receptionist, Lara Alberts, was a middle-aged woman who liked to stick her long nose in other people’s business. When B.J. approached her, she stumbled a step, realizing Lara was going to discover her condition. Shit.

“Well, hey there, B.J.,” Lara greeted. “I didn’t realize it was time for your yearly already. I thought you visited more around the end of the…” Her words died off as she opened B.J.’s file and read the reason 94



The Trouble with Tomboys



for her visit. “Oh my!” she gasped and raised wide, curious eyes. “You’re...you’re…” Her gaze fell to B.J.’s stomach.

“I’m ready to check out,” B.J. growled, glowering as she plopped her checkbook on the counter.

“What’s the co-pay?”

Lara fumbled for a minute, glancing at her with wide, curious eyes every few seconds as she looked up the amount.

Yes, it’s a goddamned supernatural

phenomenon. Someone knocked up B.J. Gilmore.

What a freaking wonder. The world must be coming to an end.

But B.J. kept her trap shut and settled for a healthy glare. Lara, thank God, didn’t pry for more details, though she did try to talk about the weather as they hashed out a date for B.J.’s next appointment. Not in the mood for any kind of chitchat, B.J. merely booked it out of there as soon at Lara handed her a card bearing the date of her check up.

She walked to her truck in a trance.

Pregnant.

It didn’t seem real. What in the hell was she going to do with a baby? It was like Santa Claus moving to the Bahamas, Nashville turning rock and roll, the White House hosting the worldwide mud wrestling competition. It just didn’t happen.

B.J. didn’t know anything about kids. She’d

been one a long time ago, but that had sucked, end of story. She saw her brother’s daughter every couple of weeks, but his girl was the spitting image of her mother, begging and whining all the time until her parents gave her what she wanted.

Shuddering in horror, B.J. hoped like hell she didn’t have a kid like Buck’s brat. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the steering wheel, trying to picture a little brown-eyed girl with her 95



Linda Kage



hair and Grady’s—

An image of Grady flashed through her mind.

Grady. Oh, God. Grady.

Remembering him, she sat up straight, her eyes flying wide open. “Holy shit.”

This was his kid too. Grady was going to be a daddy...again. Suddenly, she felt like curling into a ball and weeping—yet another sign of how pregnant she really was. Her hormones were already whacked out of control.

But, damn it, how was this going to affect

Grady? He’d be devastated. He’d already lost two children before they’d ever been born. Amy had miscarried halfway through one pregnancy before she’d died in the delivery room with her second.

Amy had wanted a baby so bad. Even B.J.’d

heard about all the trips to the fertility doctor she’d taken to get pregnant. And then she hadn’t been able to stay that way without having problems.

Grady and Amy’s attempt to start a family had been a long, tortuous battle, ending in tragedy.

The fact that his one act of indiscretion with another woman had ended with a conception was going to be a bitter pill for him to swallow. He probably already felt like he’d committed adultery on Amy, and now the ultimate horror had happened. He was going to have a baby with another woman. God, why didn’t B.J. just go and spit on Amy’s grave while she was at it?

She didn’t want to be the one to tell him. She wasn’t a coward by any means. In fact, she never backed away from a good confrontation. But she did not want to see his face when he found out. It might send him over the edge. She feared he was already having a hard enough time dealing with the fact he’d had sex with someone who wasn’t his wife. She didn’t want to pile a kid on him as well.

It wasn’t fair. Everything was wrong. Amy

96



The Trouble with Tomboys



should still be alive. She should be the happy mother of a whole brood by now. And Grady should be with her, not shackled to B.J., of all people, because she’d pressured him into one hot, unforgettable encounter.