Built for Love - Ella Goode Page 0,26

Abel. It only takes a glance to see that Beck is two sheets to the wind.

“I’m in love. Did you know that?” He steps into the room. My mouth falls open as Marist fills the doorway next. I don’t know if I should tell Beck to shut his mouth or to tell Marist to abort the mission she was on to get me a pregnancy test. I thought there would be enough time after I pushed Abel into checking in on Beck. Obviously I was wrong.

Now, I have an even more suspicious Abel and a drunk Beck to deal with. Let’s not forget the fact that Marist is standing in the damn doorway with a pregnancy test in a bag while listening to Beck profess his love.

“I think everyone can see that. It’s not a secret, Beck,” I say because no one else seems to be speaking up around here. That seems to get his attention. It’s so clear how much he loves her. They belong together, and I’m not going to let this drunken moment be how he tells her that he loves her. “Speaking of love. Hi, Marist.”

Beck whips around so fast he almost falls over. Marist holds up her hand to give a small wave, the plastic bag in hand. I watch in what feels like slow motion as a few pregnancy tests fall out of the bag and hit the floor. The bag in her hand is still full. How many did she get?

Marist's face turns red as she looks down at the floor. What the hell do I do?

“Marist?” Beck whispers her name, looking suddenly sober.

“I. Well-” she starts.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here with you.” Okay. Some of my insides melt.

“Maybe I could have been yours months ago,” she snips back. It clearly didn't have the same effect on her as it did me.

“I’m sorry. I was stupid. Do you”—he drops his head—“love him?” he finishes.

Her lips part, but no words come out.

“They’re mine,” I say. I’m not going to mess up whatever it is they have going on because I can’t talk to my own man. Maybe I should give Beck a break. “I asked Marist to get them for me.”

I glance over to Abel, who doesn't look shocked in the least at the news I just spilled.

“I got them.” Abel walks over, picking them up off the floor before taking the bag from Marist. “Thanks.” He sticks the others back into the bag. “I thought you only needed one of these things?” he asks me.

“I think we should give them a moment,” Marist says, motioning for Beck to come with her.

“You’re not pregnant?” He doesn't move.

“No. Now come on.” She gives him a look that goes right over his drunk head.

“You want babies?” Her face softens a little. “You’d make beautiful babies.” She’s not even knocked up and Beck is better at this than Abel, which is shocking because it’s freaking Beck!

“Come here,” she orders him with more force, holding her hand out. He walks over, taking it, and she yanks him from our office.

“Maybe they’ll finally talk.” Abel shakes his head like Beck is the crazy one. “Are you ready?” He wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me into him and dropping a kiss onto my mouth.

“Am I ready to--?” Take the test? What is happening here.

“To go home. You let Marist steal your breakfast and pick at your lunch. You need a full dinner.”

“You realize I think I’m pregnant.”

“Well, I hope so,” he says as he starts to move me toward the door. “I’ve been working on it for a few months now.” If he wasn't holding me up, I might have fallen over due to his revelation.

18

Abel

She doesn’t look thrilled that I know.

“Sorry I ruined the surprise, babe.” The traffic going out of the city is surprisingly heavy and slow going. Maybe we should stick around town until dinner time and then head home.

“You didn’t ruin it. The tests fell out of Marist’s bag.”

“You’re right. It was Beck’s fault.” I whistle cheerfully. “Since it’s out in the open, do you want to do some baby shopping? Clothes, diapers, shit for you. I was reading up and there’s some kind of vitamin for pregnant women. We’ll need to get you that stat. What else?” I drum my fingers against the wheel.

“I want to go home.”

“Sure. Should I stop by and pick up some pizza or maybe tacos? We haven’t had those in a while.” If I make a right up