It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 12

LEX

“Go home. I have no idea why you even came in. You looked like you crawled out of hell this morning. We don’t need whatever you have passed around here.”

I lean over the toilet and heave again while Grandpa yells at me from the doorway. I brace my hands on my knees, steadying myself before I stand.

I could argue with him. I don’t want to go home and lay in bed thinking about Mark, but a nap does sound good, and I don’t need Grandpa breathing down my neck.

“Fine. I’ll go home for a while, but if I feel better, I’m coming back. I promised Glen I’d have his bike done by tomorrow afternoon.”

The garage is full, and we’re short-staffed this week since Carson is on a hunting expedition. Grandpa steps out of the way so I can grab my keys.

Twenty minutes later, I climb the stairs to my room and into a long, warm shower. Feeling queasy again, I dig out my comfort shirt and pull it on before crawling into bed. I lie there thinking about Mark.

I watched his last game and saw his first win of the playoffs, moving his team a step closer to the Super Bowl. I couldn’t help but be filled with pride and wished I could have been there.

It’s been my dream to be there, standing and waiting for him, as I did after his games in high school. I sent him a voice message and told him how proud I was of him, but I haven’t heard back .

He told me after the season is over, he’s coming for me. I want him to come for me, or hell, I’d go to him, but his current schedule doesn’t have room for visitors.

I close my eyes and pull the covers over my head. This is his job, and it’s been his life. It’s no different from the garage being mine. I just want to know that at some point, he and I will actually figure out how to be together.

Two hours later, I wake with a warm streak of sunshine on my face. I stretch as my stomach rumbles with hunger. I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes and then pull myself from bed to find something to eat that sounds good.

In the kitchen, I grab some crackers and a glass of water, taking a seat at the table. I scroll my phone, unable to prevent the habit of searching for Mark. I listen to a new interview, and his smile makes my lips turn upward. The man takes handsomeness to a whole new level.

A light knock on the back door disrupts me from stalking my own husband, and I click off Mark’s face. Krissy stands on the other side of the door. I open it, returning to the table.

“Hey.”

She’s dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt, and she’s cute. She has that effortless, adorable gift that’s annoying to the rest of us who have to work for every ounce of appearing only slightly put together. Her short, dark bob frames her face, and her long, fake eyelashes almost touch her eyebrows.

“I stopped by the garage. You missed me irritating the hell out of Slade by pretending to flirt with Trigger.”

I smile. “Did Slade start barking orders and make Trig take stock in the parts room?”

Krissy laughs. “Yeah, I felt bad, but I don’t think Trigger minded. He stuck his head out and winked at me when I left. He made sure Slade saw it. At least Carson wasn’t there.”

There’s something in that mumbled comment about Carson, but I let go for now. “Poor Trig. He bought himself a week of all the crap jobs.” I take a bite of a cracker.

“Slade said you’re sick, so I thought I’d stop by and check on you.” She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “You doing ok? You don’t look so bad. ”

“Yeah. I took a nap and showered. I’m feeling better. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

Krissy surveys the kitchen. “Want me to make you something? I can warm up some soup if you have it, or run and get some. It’s my day off.”

“It’s ok. I’ll eat a few crackers, and if that stays down, I’ll make a sandwich.”

“I haven’t seen much of you lately. We miss you coming over to watch the games with us.”

My Sunday afternoons are usually spent at Slade’s house, eating and watching football. With everything going on, I haven’t wanted to watch Mark with others around and try to pretend not to feel anything.

Not telling Grandpa, Slade, or even my mom about Mark has been difficult. I don’t keep things from them, but with our current state, it seems easier. I don’t need them getting their underwear in a bunch over it, and I don’t need anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. Mark and I have to figure this out on our own.

“I know. I’m sorry. There’s been a lot going on. I’m sure Slade told you about the ASE test, and I’ve been putting in more hours at the shop.”

“And now you’re sick?” She joins me at the table, eyeing me questioningly.

I shrug. “I haven’t been sleeping well, and I think it’s finally caught up with me.”

“Huh.” She rests her chin in her hand.

“What?” I cross my arms over my stomach, needing her not to assess me.

“Can I be nosy for a minute?”

My brows pinch together because that’s a loaded question. “Maybe.”

“How long have you not been feeling well?”

“Ok. Nurse Kris, I don’t need you to Google some crazy diagnosis.”

She laughs. “Humor me.” I roll my eyes, resting back in the chair. “Slade said you’ve looked like shit for a while.”

“Wow. That’s kind. Remind me to thank him.” She squints her eyes. My head falls to the side, unimpressed. “What?”

“Trouble sleeping, persistent nausea, tired, high emotions . . . ”

“I’m not emotional.” Well, not in front of anyone.

She laughs. “Look, I’m going to ask a question you don’t have to answer. ”

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Is there any possible way you’re . . . pregnant?” Half of her face scrunches as she says that last word, almost wincing.

I sit dumbfounded by her question. Pregnant? I almost laugh. Almost, but then the word hits me again. Pregnant. A baby. Could I be . . . pregnant?

I don’t know what Krissy is doing or thinking or possibly saying because everything around me stops and fades to nothing while I sort through a self-evaluation.

I’m on birth control. I may have missed some pills here and there, but did I forget around when Mark and I . . .

Last period? Hmmm. Unknown.

Symptoms? Everything Krissy listed. Plus, my jeans have felt a bit tight.

Am I pregnant . . . with a baby? No way.

I suddenly hear my name and snap to.

“Alex.”

“Huh?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” Krissy is staring at me, wide-eyed. “I didn’t mean to offend you or cross a line. I . . . It’s just your symptoms seem a little suspicious. It could be the flu. I know this is none of my business—”

I hold up my hand, not having a clue what to say, while trying to gather my thoughts about what I need to do to get an answer immediately. Is it even possible I’m pregnant? “It’s fine, really.” My mind moves 100 mph, thinking through the possibility and needing to be sure.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She bites her lip. “Slade is going to kill me.”

I stop her right there. “You’re not telling him you asked me that. I’m calling patient confidentiality or whatever. The guys don’t need to know about this.”

She frowns. “Ok. I’m sorry. I’m ridiculous sometimes, but see so many women . . . ”

I hear nothing but my own internal dialog that’s rambling nonsense. It’s been how many weeks since Vegas? I grab my phone, tapping on the calendar and counting. One, two, . . . Almost nine weeks. I press my fingers to my forehead. It’s been nine weeks. Ok. Just breathe .

I stand ready to sprint to the nearest drugstore. “I told Grandpa if I was feeling better, I’d head back since Carson is out this week. I should put on some work clothes and get back there.”

She slowly gathers her keys and purse, watching me the whole time. “You sure you’re ok? I can stay and hang for a while if you want.”

“I’m sure. The garage was full when I left, so we need to keep the rotation moving.”

She hugs me goodbye as I shove her out the door. I fly up the stairs to pull on leggings and a sweatshirt, hightailing it to the nearest place that carries the only kind of test that won’t be difficult for me to complete.

______

I set the timer on my phone for five minutes. My finger hovers over Mark’s name, wanting him to hold my hand through this, but common sense prevents me from tapping it.

He is one game away from the division championship, and our conversations have been short and a bit strained, both of us waiting for the season to be over. The time ticks down, and . . . I don’t care . I jab his name before I can second-guess it. I need to hear his voice as I wait for the most important results of my life.

My heart thrashes in my chest, and my fingers grip my phone so tightly my hand shakes. It rings and rings as the timer counts down.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please pick up.

Just when I think it’s one more time we’ll miss each other, his voice comes through.

“Hey, one second. Ok?”

A storm of relief pours over me. I hear shuffling and other voices in the background, and then he’s back.

“Hi. Sorry, I’m getting ready to step into a meeting.”

“Hi.” That’s all I can say as the pressure builds with anticipation of what might be happening. I want him here, holding my hand, but the cellular connection will have to do. My throat suddenly itches with emotion, and I can’t speak.

When I don’t say anything more, I hear concern fill his voice. “Lex, are you ok? ”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, trying to get a grip. “I needed to . . . ” What? I needed to what? “I just need you to talk to me for a second.”

“Lex, what’s going on?” he whispers this time. My heart squeezes, wanting to tell him exactly what’s happening, but I’m worried I’ll destroy his focus and concentration in the biggest time of his career.

I check the timer. Three minutes and thirty-four seconds left. “Do you have a few minutes to talk to me?” I press my eyes shut tight, knowing I sound like a lunatic.

“Uh . . . I have five minutes until my ass needs to be in a seat.” I hear him say hi to someone. “You kind of have me freaking out, though, so I need you to tell me you’re really ok.”

“Yes. I’m ok.” I let out a gentle laugh to reassure him. “Things are just a little . . . overwhelming, and you always make me feel better.”

“Really?” I know he’s smiling, and I wish I could hug him so much. “Because the last couple of months, that’s not what I think I’ve been doing. I’ve wanted to call you, but . . . ”

He doesn’t even have to say it. I know. “Well, that might be true, but I haven’t liked the not talking to you thing at all.”

I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been able to get myself not to love him or want to be with him, no matter how much I try. Now, there’s this and . . . I need him.

“I want to date you for real, and I’m going to.” His tone is nothing but pure determination. “I didn’t want to keep calling and disappointing you. I can’t stand it.”

“I’d be ok with dating you for real.”

“That so?” That mischievous tone makes my skin tingle. “Seeing that you’re already my wife, I’m not planning on taking you home either.” His voice is low and sexy, and my quivering stomach flips over at the certainty of his statement.

Liking that promise a little too much, I check the timer again. One minute, forty-seven seconds. “Are you ready for the game?”

He laughs. “Yes. I’m ready to take it to the end, and then . . . ” He pauses. “Lex, I meant what I said.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, a lump forming in my throat and tears welling in my eyes. “I know.”

“Do you?” His voice is soft and tender.

“Yes. ”

“You have no idea how much I want you here with me, for you to be a part of this with me. I don’t even care anymore. If I win this next game, I’m getting you tickets, and—”

“It’s ok. I’m watching.” I bite my lip, forcing the tears to retreat.

“I know I’m asking a lot, but if you’ll come, I want you here. I don’t care anymore about what happens after this season.”

“Mark, we both know that’s not true. Finish this season out and—”

My phone vibrates in my hand, and this is it.

“Lex, I’ve gotta go. I promise I’ll call you. Things are going to be ok. I’m working on it.”

I grab the magic life-changing stick and hold it up so I can see the results. “Mark,” I exhale.

“Yeah?”

My voice cracks despite my best efforts. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

There’s the briefest moment of silence between us. Then he says the only thing I need to hear .

“I love you, too.”