the team.”
He’s playing dirty now, and I’m not going to stand for any of that crap. “Screw you, Lucky.” I stand up, my chair sliding out behind me with a loud screech. I point to the hallway. “Get out of my house.”
He shakes his head slowly, looking up at me, his jaw set firm and his gaze unflinching. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for at least the next nine months and probably longer.”
I am so pissed at this alpha male bullshit, I don’t know what to say. He’s come in here and just railroaded me like he has the right to do it, like he hasn’t known me forever and has forgotten what I do to guys who make me angry.
I breathe in and out deeply, trying to slow my respirations and calm myself down. He accused me of being reckless and crazy basically, so attacking him right now as a pregnant woman is probably not the best way to argue that he’s wrong. When I can finally speak I’m proud that my voice comes out level and controlled.
“I appreciate that you think you’re doing the right thing by moving in here, but I’m sorry; I’m not ready for that. I don’t want you here. You need to take your bags back out to your car and go. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk to you again.” I turn around to leave the kitchen, and his voice follows me out.
“We can talk about it more tomorrow, but I care about you and I really want to do my part. I need to!”
I pause in the middle of the hallway, trying to decide how to handle the situation. The decision is taken out of my hands when a knock comes at the front door and a key sounds in the lock.
I close my eyes and take another deep breath. What the hell is this? God, haven’t you punished me enough?
The door opens and Thibault pokes his head in. “Hey, Sis. Glad I caught you awake.”
I throw my hand up and let it drop down to slap my thigh. “Sure, come on in. Everyone else has.”
Thibault steps into the front hallway, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of all the suitcases in front of him. “Are you going somewhere?”
All I can do is shake my head. I’m too pissed to speak. A noise behind me tells me that Lucky has come from the kitchen to join us.
“Hey, man.” Lucky stands just next to me, his hands shoved into his front pockets.
Thibault gives him a half smile. “Hey. What’s up?” He looks at Lucky and then me and the suitcases. I can almost see the gears turning in his head.
I turn and glare at Lucky, trying to tell him with a look that he’d better not say anything to Thibault about the situation.
“I’m moving in,” Lucky says.
It’s taking every ounce of strength that I have not to slug him in the gut and knock all the wind out of him. Maybe he senses it, because he steps sideways and moves around me, walking over to greet Thibault with a handshake. “Your sister’s going to need some help around here.”
Thibault grips his friend’s hand, but it’s obvious he has no idea what’s going on. “Help?” He shifts his gaze to me. “Are you remodeling or something?”
All I can do is shake my head. I’m so angry I don’t trust myself to speak. But it doesn’t matter, because Lucky’s on a roll, the asshole. He doesn’t look at me; all of his attention is focused on my brother.
“No, she’s not remodeling. She’s . . .” He stops, maybe finally realizing he’s gone too far.
Better late than never.
“She’s what?” Thibault asks. He turns his attention to me. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m not sick. Not exactly. I’m pregnant.”
The only audible sound now is the ticking of the wall clock my grandfather left me. And then the little door on the front of it opens and a tiny bluebird comes out and starts mocking me. Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo . . . He says I’m cuckoo ten times, and I can’t say as I disagree.
When the bird is done mocking me, Thibault responds. “Uhhh . . . I’m sorry . . . I think I heard you wrong. I could’ve sworn you said that you’re pregnant.” He glares at Lucky and then at me.
Before Lucky can say anything else, I throw both hands up like two stop signs. “Stop talking! We are not