Page 80 of The Naughty Elf

He brushes the hair from my face and helps me out. The moment the crew sees me, they head over, patting me on the back, giving me hugs, and smiling at me.

“We’ve missed you,” Daniel says. “Work has gotten boring without you.”

“Certainly less beautiful,” Mike says.

“Less sweet.” Nick grins.

“Fuck that guy who attacked you,” the other Nick says.

Brenda comes up to grab my arm, looking me dead in the eyes. “Really, fuck that guy.”

“Brenda!” I pretend to be shocked, and she pulls me into the best matronly hug ever.

I knew she was a softy all this time.

Everyone was right, I should have just gone back to work. I get five marriage proposals after I bring the food in and they get to try it. It’s like old times, although I’m still tired, overheated, and a bit dizzy as we fire up the grill for hotdogs and hamburgers.

Other local businesses have prepared fresh barbequed meats, ice cream, and snow cones. And the baked goods are stored away in coolers until people start showing up. I’m putting them out as Jackson and Sawyer man the grill. Ashley is helping set up the games.

Darkness weaves in and out of my vision. I try to blink it away.

My body feels light and heavy at the same time.

I wobble.

Then, I’m falling.

When I blink myself back to reality, I’m in Sawyer’s arms, half laid out on the grass inside the tent. The worry onhis face makes my heart flutter. I push my thumb against the furrow between his brows.

Jackson kneels down beside me. Ashley hovers behind him, and I can see Mom and Dad peeking around them, too.

“What happened?” Mom plants her fists on her hips the same way I do when Gracie is being a handful. It yanks a soft laugh out of me.

“You just dropped.” Sawyer checks my forehead. “Are you sick?”

“No.” I push his hand away. “I’m not sick.”

“Heatstroke?” Ashley crosses his arms, and clenches his hands into fists.

“No. Not heat stroke.” I really don’t want to tell them like this. “Let me sit up.”

My hand automatically braces my stomach as I shift, and Sawyer’s hands grasp my elbows, watching the movement. No one’s commented on my slightly rounder shape. It just looks like I’ve put on five pounds.

Jackson’s caught it, too.

I close my eyes.

“Ginger?” The brothers say in unison.

My lips press together, another last-ditch effort to procrastinate. It’s no use.

I have to detonate this bomb.

I gulp past the lump in my throat and whisper, “I’m pregnant.”

35

SAWYER

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