Just a Positive Pregnancy Test - London Casey Page 0,35

threw up again. She’s a mess. In my mind, I thought I was helping her when I told her we should look into changing her diet.”

“Oh, damn,” Tyler said. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t your finest moment, Silas,” Zeke said.

“No shit.”

“I… wow… well, my Ada gave me three boys. Each time she was pregnant, it was an adventure. All you can do is just maneuver around it all. Know when to pick a battle and when to walk away.”

“Silas, there’s nothing worse than mentioning anything to do with her body,” Tyler said. “Believe me.”

I nodded, remembering bits and pieces of Tyler’s story with Lucy’s biological mother.

“I love her,” I said. “I love everything that’s going to happen. I’m… there… here… I’m… look at me. I’m buying a fucking junk of a house for her!”

“It’s okay,” Zeke said, grabbing my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Just don’t say dumb shit.”

“Don’t do dumb shit either,” Tyler said.

That’s when an idea hit me.

I looked around the room. “You know, I think I’m done here. This is your job now, Tyler. Not mine. Figure this out and get it done. Like we talked about.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tyler said.

I pointed at him. “Hey, I hired you. I want this place to be like brand new. This is where your sister is going to live. With your niece or nephew. Don’t fuck this up, Tyler.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to right now?” Tyler growled.

Zeke started to laugh.

I had some power over Tyler and I was going to flex as much as I could.

“Let me know if you find anything really bad or not. Then we can talk plans. Get your guys working on the fence and landscaping in the meantime. Thanks, Tyler.”

Tyler curled his lip.

I jogged out of the room and through the house.

I heard Tyler growling at Zeke that I needed to watch my tone.

That made me smile.

Eventually I’d fit right in with the Justa family.

Chapter Seventeen

MILA

It was the first day I really felt pregnant.

My body felt tired, beat up, and tingly. It was almost like I could feel changes happening, even if I couldn’t see them. It was weird though because it wasn’t in my stomach or my breasts either.

I would feel things in my feet or my arms.

Then again, I told myself maybe it was just a deep sense of anxiety over my conversation with Olivia.

My hidden fear that Silas would leave.

There was nothing I could do about that. I just had to trust. To believe in him. In us.

I knew if something terrible happened, I had my family. Of course I had my family.

However, while I loved my family, it wasn’t enough.

Not while I was pregnant. And certainly wouldn’t be enough after I had the baby.

I wanted the true family.

Mother, father, and child.

After leaving Olivia’s, I went to visit Claire.

A part of me just didn’t feel like going back to the inn yet.

I wasn’t sure if Silas would be there or not.

Which seemed so silly because all I had to do was call him. Text him. Check in with him.

Which I had already done… throughout the day… and each time… he responded…

My head buzzed with thoughts when I arrived at Claire’s.

She answered the door in jean overalls with splotches of paint on them.

Her hair was pulled back in a slightly sweaty mess.

Even a few specks of paint were on her cheeks and chin.

“You’re glowing again,” Claire said.

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “Are you painting again?”

“Yes, I am. I’ll show you.”

I walked into the house and saw Anna approaching.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, there,” she said. “How are you?”

“Pregnant,” I said.

“Anna had a day off and decided to bother me,” Claire said.

“If I’m interrupting…”

“No,” Anna said. “I came over to lament about my love life. Obviously, yours is busier than mine.”

I touched my stomach and laughed. “Could just be a one-time thing.”

“But with a rock star,” Anna said. She fanned herself. “Whew.”

Claire led the way to the living room where she had several easels set up.

I gasped when I saw the paintings.

There was a little bit of everything there.

Some abstract stuff that looked messy but wasn’t.

A landscape painting.

Then a painting of the restaurant. But done with wide, long strokes.

“I’m just messing around,” Claire said. “I like to do this stuff to kind of warm up. To figure out what I really want to do.”

“I’m just happy you’re doing this,” I said.

“Me too,” Anna said. “Told you, Claire. This is good stuff.”

“This? This is garbage. I have to do something good. Soon. I want