“I don’t know. What does the box say?”
I snatched up the box and it didn’t say anything so I dropped the box and snatched up the instructions and read them.
“It doesn’t say anything about shaking. It just says one to three minutes. How long has it been?” I asked.
“Well, definitely over one minute but not over three.”
Shit.
I dropped the leaflet and stared at the stick.
A plus sign showed.
Holy shit.
I was pregnant.
Holy shit!
I was pregnant!
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Silence then more silence then a soft sob.
“Charlene,” I said gently, “I need to go tell Creed.”
“Go. Go make a good man happy,” she replied quietly.
Right on.
A fabulous way to start the day. Making a good man happy.
Better, he was my man.
“Love you, babe,” I told Charlene.
“Love you too, Sylvie,” she told me.
I beeped off my phone, put it on the bathroom counter and wandered into the bedroom, down the hall and to the kitchen.
Creed’s back was to me, bare, his tat on display, his h*ps and legs encased in faded jeans.
God, he was hot.
He obviously heard me coming because he asked the inside of the fridge, “Cocoa Puffs or are you gonna join me in eggs and bacon?”
“You should always be ready,” I told him.
He closed the door instantly and turned.
I tossed the stick across the kitchen and he caught it.
I watched him look at it.
I watched his body still.
And finally, I watched his head come up and his eyes lock on me.