Page 55 of Attraction & Repulsion

“I can only imagine having a mini-Raegan running around,” Hunter said. “My poor wallet will suffer even more if she’s anything like her mother.”

“Oh, stop,” Raegan chided.

Ignoring her, he continued, “I don’t know if I could play tea party, though.”

“You know that if your little daughter came up asking you to play tea party with her, you’d do it in a heartbeat,” Carson said.

Hunter pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Having finished dessert and the table cleared of the empty, dirty dishes, the men migrated to the garage while Carson and Raegan found themselves in Raegan’s closet, going through her assortment of clothes. The closet was big enough to have a lounge chair for Carson to occupy while Raegan rifled through her apparel. She had just finished inspecting the stretch of a leopard print shirt, holding it up to her belly, before hanging it back up.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Carson stopped rubbing her fingers over the velvet fabric of the chair’s arm. “What do you mean?”

Raegan gave her an exasperated sigh as though it was obvious. “I meant how are you doing about me being pregnant?”

“Um, freaking excited. Duh,” she said.

Carson could see the relief wash over Raegan. “Really? You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset?”

Raegan instinctually placed a hand on her stomach. “Because of your situation.”

Understanding hit Carson, and her heart swelled with emotion. “Oh, Raegan. That’s me, not you. Please don’t think I am sad about you getting pregnant. Because I’m not . . . at all.”

“Hunter and I debated telling you today or waiting,” Raegan said. “We didn’t want you to feel—”

Carson cut her off. “I am so elated to be an aunt. Well, a metaphorical aunt.” Then she stood and walked over to Raegan. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m fine.”

Raegan’s lips lifted. “Okay.”

They turned their attention to the hanging rack of pants.

“Does Jax know?” Raegan asked quietly, her voice barely over a whisper.

Carson’s smile faded. “No. Not yet.”

Chapter nineteen

Relapse. That’s all it was. Plenty of people did it. Carson tried to reassure herself as she wiped the blood from the hollow of her shoulder before pulling her shirt back down.

Standing in her laundry room, she faced the open junk drawer. A hefty wood screw lay on the small counter, watching her foolishly try to convince herself that what she had done was fine.

Lying in bed, Carson’s mind had been a blender, swirling with stressors. An opposing attorney was berating her for advising against their settlement proposal. A client was refusing to pay their bill because they didn’t like the outcome of their case. Garrett, her boss, was pushing her harder to become the best attorney she could be, in hopes of earning the junior partner position. Through it all, Carson longed to hold her husband one last time. Or even to hold her baby for the first time. And she still sought the courage to tell Jax about her inability to have children.

Then a thought had popped into her brain, silencing its whirring blades. It had been so long since she had done anything. She was allowed to treat herself, right? One time couldn’t be that bad.

Attraction.

Like an eel, she had slithered out of her bed into the dark hall to find a dull object. Something that couldn’t do a lot of damage, because then itwould be okay. A screw was completely different from a knife. A screw was more acceptable. Surprisingly, a sharp screw could inflict a lot of damage when pressed hard enough into flesh.

As she stared down at the screw, the realization of what Carson had done sunk in.

Repulsion.

She ran out of the laundry room, back down the hall, and into her bathroom, not bothering with any lights. This wasn’t the first time she’d vomited in the toilet in the dark.

---