Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(5)

Drinks ready, I stepped out from behind the bar. Only weirdly enough, Nell was suddenly rushing out of the kitchen.

“Jean, is that you?” she called. “My god! Why didn’t you tell me you’d arrived?”

I froze. How the hell did they know each other? This was not good.

“You looked busy, I figured I’d wait.” Jean glowed, happy as anything. Her smile dial had just hit eleven.

Nell waited in front of the table as my-still-maybe-but-perhaps-now-possibly-not future girlfriend got to her feet. Next came lots of hugging and happy feminine squealing noises. Damn. Wonder if Nell told her anything about me? Maybe this situation could still be salvaged.

“I’m so glad you moved to town,” said Nell. “This is going to be great.”

“I hope so.” Jean sighed.

“It will be. You’ll see. A whole fresh new start.”

*

Then the two women separated, giving me a perfect profile of Nell’s baby bump. But way worse was Jean’s matching one. The woman was pregnant. Very much so. The martini glass slipped from my numb fingers, smashing when it hit the hard floor.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled to no one.





CHAPTER TWO

I’d been tricked. Betrayed.

After Andre and Jean ate their lunch, we headed outside to deal with her stuff. The cold wind suited my mood to perfection. Talk about disappointed.

“Don’t lift that, it looks heavy,” I snapped.

Jean blinked. “It’s a pillow.”

“The world’s largest pillow ever. You can’t be too careful.” My gaze roamed over her swollen middle. “You’re…”

“Pregnant?” she asked with a voice dripping poison and sugar. “Are you having trouble with the concept?”

“Absolutely not. I was just going to say huge, that’s all.”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “Thanks, Eric. That makes me feel so much better.”

“I just…”

“Don’t bother.” The woman turned back to her sensible, medium-sized SUV and got busy riffling through the contents. I was surprised she’d been able to squeeze into the driver’s seat. Boxes and stuff took up almost every inch inside the vehicle. Each and every box seemed to have been neatly labeled with the contents. The woman took her organization seriously.

She looked over her shoulder. “You know, I can’t help noticing that Eric-the-smooth-moving-flirt has been suddenly replaced by Eric-the-awkward-jerk.”

“Well, you said you were single.” I folded my arms defensively across my chest.

“I am.”

And then there was an awkward silence.

“Yeah, but … I mean, in your condition…” I fumbled to a halt.

She turned, face all scrunched up. Like I was the one with the problem.

“Just hop out of the way so I can grab some boxes,” I said, voice gruff.

Still nothing from her.

“It’s a second-story walk-up and you have a lot of stuff to get up there. You should be taking it easy.” Hands on hips, I tapped my black leather boot against the sidewalk, waiting her out. “Jean, I’m not trying to insult you. It’s the truth.”

She swore quietly, going back to fussing with the contents in the vehicle. I don’t think any woman has ever given me the silent treatment quite this quickly. Usually I’m good for at least a couple of hours after seeing them naked.

Man, I still couldn’t believe this was happening.

God hated me or something. Pregnant women and me were enema. Anathema. Whatever. Now that I’d seen her out in the autumn light, however, she looked younger than I’d first guessed. Despite her tired eyes, her skin was smooth, soft looking. She was likely closer to her early twenties than mid.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Why do you care?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Just curious.”

“How old are you?”

“Nearly thirty.”

She sniffed. “I’m twenty-two.”

Young, like I’d thought. She was probably too immature for me, anyway. “Come on, Jean. Let me get some of the boxes.”

Boyd ambled out of the Dive Bar, turning his head this way and that, looking up and down the street. I raised my hand and he started over in our direction. The big cook would make short work out of moving all this stuff. Behind us, Andre and Nell came out of the tenants’ entrance to the Bird Building. The place was a big brick building about a hundred years old. Just past the door was an entryway with stairs leading up to the second floor, followed by two empty shops, their windows covered in flyers about local events. Concerts and parades and shit. They’d been vacant for a while, unfortunately. Andre’s Guitar Den came next, then Pat’s tattoo parlor Inkaho, and the Dive Bar on the corner.

“Everything’s good to go. Alex and I gave it a cleaning last week just to be sure,” said Nell, smacking a kiss on Jean’s cheek. “You’ll meet Alex later. She’s probably busy working or something now. She’s sort of a shut-in.”

“You two didn’t have to do that,” said Jean. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Andre leaned against the SUV. “Your furniture got delivered yesterday too, so it’s all good to go.”