Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(22)

“Jesus.”

“I realize most people don’t mean any harm. But even so.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what it is about pregnancy that makes everyone lose their minds and think they need to get involved. Well, not everyone. Some people.”

I frowned, highly pissed off on her behalf.

“But Andre and Natasha were just…”

“Speaking out of their asses?”

She snorted. “A little. Maybe. Yeah.”

“Don’t know why the concept of you making up your own mind about things is so damn hard,” I said. “Idiots.”

Jean ducked her head, but not fast enough to hide a grin.

What a win, I’d made her smile! Immediately, my shoulders started relaxing, the anger easing back. Around us the party kept on keeping on, music blaring and people chatting. Given that I hadn’t come tonight with any expectation of hooking up with anyone, I hadn’t lost anything. Though Natasha was a nice-looking woman. I couldn’t help wondering what she’d have been like in bed. Bossy, probably. Which could be fun for a while.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” asked Jean.

“Hmm?”

“Natasha. Go talk to her,” she repeated. “You know, before Andre and I came over, you two looked cozy.”

“Nuh. I’m good right here.”

She cocked her head, eyes amused. “What, you’re going to waste the party hanging with the grumpy, hugely pregnant female all night?”

“Yeah, I am. If she’ll let me.”

“Seriously?” Little lines appeared between her brows. “I can go chat with Nell. Because I’m warning you, watching me knock back juices in between running to the bathroom to deal with my thimble-sized bladder is going to get boring.”

“Boring? You kidding me? We just nearly got into a knockdown fight,” I said, wiping imaginary sweat off my brow. “God knows what could happen next. If someone gets in your way when you’re rushing to go pee, there’ll be rock and roll wrestling in the hallway or something.”

“Yes, I can totally see that happening.”

“My money’s on you, of course.”

“Damn right it is.” She cradled her belly with one hand. “You’re a good friend and a good man, Eric Collins.”

“Uh … I don’t know about that.” I tugged on one of my braids, then winced. “You haven’t been in town long.”

“Shut up. I’m paying you a compliment.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Maybe she was right. I had been pretty restrained when it came to thinking R-rated thoughts about the woman. Guess that was sort of a start on my path to manly betterment? I don’t know.

“Anyway,” she said. “Don’t argue with me. I’m pregnant, I know things. Mostly about leaking bodily fluids and strange internal happenings. But I know other things as well.”

“Whatever you say.” I tapped my beer against her glass of juice. The faint curl of her lips held all of its usual appeal. Christ, if only she wasn’t knocked up. And if I’d wished for that once, I’d wished for it a hundred times. “Happy Halloween, Jean.”

“Happy Halloween, Eric.”





CHAPTER SIX

It was about twelve o’clock on a Wednesday night, a few weeks after Halloween. I finished locking up the Dive Bar. With Nell off sick with a bad cold, I’d had a busy couple of days. I stayed back to catch up on the inventory and a few other jobs. Having the place all to myself sometimes was good. The bar had its own feel after closing time, with only the quiet shadows and the glimmering steel to keep me company. But I’d run out of tasks, and was facing up to the short walk home and the nightly battle to get some sleep. I didn’t know what was wrong with my head lately.

Maybe I’d wind up watching late-night TV with Jean or something.

After Halloween, I’d given up avoiding the woman. Especially since her pacing the hallway and my recent insomnia often seemed to happen around the same time. A few nights now we’d wound up chatting or even hanging out for a while. Though the last time it’d happened, she’d made me chamomile tea. And it tasted like shit.

I smiled at the memory, humming a tune. A bit of Bowie, because Bowie was king despite being from England. As I switched off the last of the lights, the bar area still gleamed in the low light, polished and ready for tomorrow.

Snow drifted down as it had been doing on and off for the last week or so. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, hunching down to protect myself against the cold. Keys jangled, hitting the pavement. Someone standing down the street a little started swearing up a storm.

“Jean, that you?”

Bundled up in gloves, scarf, woolen hat, and a thick jacket, she stood beside her SUV, glaring at the offending key fob lying on the ground. With her belly plus all of that padding, her chances of easily retrieving it had to be nil to none.

“Let me.” I jogged over and picked them up, handing them back to her.

“Thank you.”

“Everything okay?”

Her face looked pale and drawn in the street lighting, her hand rubbing at her lower back. “Yeah.”

“Yeah as in no?”

She started to smile, then winced. “I’ve had this pain in my back all day and it’s getting worse. Think I might go get checked out just in case.”