Page 79 of Forgot to Tell You Something

Owen presses his hand presses against my cheek. “You’re not feverish. What bug?”

“The stomach virus that’s making the rounds.”

“No one has a stomach virus.”

Just this one time, can my poker face be on point? Please?

“Food poisoning, maybe?”

Owen crosses his arms, cocking his head as he smirks. So much for the poker face. “Ms. Tally, are you pregnant?”

“Of course not!”

“You sure?”

Yes. No. Who the hell knows?

“I’m fine.” Time to move this conversation train to the next station. This stop iswaytoo uncomfortable. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

“You’re having dinner with me.” It isn’t a question, and I can tell by the set of his jaw it isn’t open for debate. “We’ll get you some soup instead of pizza. Something easy on your stomach.”

“No, pizza sounds good,” I blurt, feeling my stomach rumble. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?

You’re pregnant.

Once again, quiet in the back, brain.

Owen’s eyes widen as he grins. “Does it? Is that you or the baby talking?”

“I’m not pregnant.”

He wraps his arms around me. A surprise move. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Yeah, can’t wait to see how fast you’d head for the hills if I’m knocked up.”

His grip tightens as his hand tangles in my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I’d be by your side every minute. I wouldn’t run anywhere but to you, Tally.”

Kerplunk. There goes my heart again. All pitter-patter for this muscled, tattooed, gray-eyed god. “Doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m not pregnant.”

Owen’s low chuckle confirms that he doesn’t believe me, either. Hell, he is a doctor. He’s familiar with the ‘birds and bees’ concept, even alluding to our less than careful sexual history the other night. Okay, we were never careful. We were hot and heavy and immersed in each other.

“I just want to ensure that you know you can’t scare me off with any baby talk.”

My heart flips again. Owen always says the right thing. The only trouble is, do I believe him this time? I smile up at him, grabbing my fedora from the bench. “Noted. Now, how about that pizza? I’m starving.”

He drops a kiss of my forehead and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Your wish is my command, Darlin.”

18

Owen

Tally, being her usual stubborn self, refuses to leave her car in the parking garage, so I follow her to the pizzeria. I swear, that womannevermakes it easy.

I’m in the turning lane when my phone rings. It’s my ex-fiancée. Again. She’s called more in the last four days than she did in the last year of our relationship.

With a resigned sigh, I answer the call. “Hello, Charlotte.”

“You answered.” I hear the surprise in her voice, likely because of my radio silence after the last dozen messages.

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