Page 22 of Whiskey Reveals

“Talk to me. Or don’t. If you want me to leave, I can do that, too. I just don’t want to leave you like this, Melody. Not if I can help it.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, not quite understanding what she had just said. But even though he couldn’t comprehend the words, his mouth went dry, and his body went as still as a statue.

“What?”

Melody looked at him for a moment then lowered her head, her gaze on her hands. And then she pretty much broke down.

“I’m pregnant. Oh, God. I hate whiskey. Whiskey is evil. Whiskey and everything named whiskey. Why did this happen? How could this happen? Whiskey is the devil, and so are the brothers who own a damn whiskey bar.” She looked up then, her eyes wide with panic he had never seen before. “Oh my God, my baby is going to be named Whiskey. It’s all on the damn whiskey. All the blame.”

He patted her hand as if he thought that might comfort her as he tried to get his thoughts in order. She was pregnant? As in, a baby coming in nine months or he guessed less than that since she kept talking about whiskey. He swallowed hard and found that his mouth was too dry for even that to work, and so he just sat there, blinking.

“That was a lot of whiskey.” Okay, he probably could’ve said something a little more helpful, but even as a writer, he was at a loss for words.

“I know it was partly the whiskey,” Melody said quickly. “That’s why we’re in this situation.”

“We. You mean we. As in you and me. As in that one night a little over three months ago when we had all that whiskey? We also made a baby? But we used a condom. Lots of condoms. Birth control. We were safe. We were really, really safe. I mean, we were drunk, but we were safe. But you’re saying that you’re pregnant, and now the whole you being pale and looking shell-shocked thing makes sense. Because you wouldn’t have just blurted it out like that or look like you’re ready to vomit if you weren’t pregnant. Oh, God, I think I need to sit down.”

“You are sitting down.” Melody reached out and patted his hand, and he looked down to notice that, yes, he was indeed sitting on the floor and no longer kneeling in front of her. Somehow, in all of his panic, Melody’s breaths had started to slow down, and she looked the calm one of the two of them. Fox was usually the calm one—not as serene as Loch, but…enough. And now he was sitting here letting his mind go in a thousand different directions, and he had no idea what he was doing.

Pregnant.

How the hell did that happen?

“Pretty much how it always happens.”

He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud until she answered. “I mean, I know how it happens. I remember everything about that night, too. We may have been drunk, but that was the best sex of my life, and now it seems that sex had consequences. Hell, sex always has consequences but they don’t always have to do with babies or STDs. And why the hell am I talking about STDs and sitting on the floor away from the woman who is carrying my child?”

Melody laughed. This time, the tears streaming down her face didn’t make him want to hurt whoever had dared to hurt her. But the fact that he had been the one to make her cry wasn’t lost on him.

“I’m glad to see that you’re panicking, too. Because that whole thing where I talked about whiskey and that I think the baby should be named Whiskey…that was like my fifth panic attack in the past few hours. Good to know we are both on the same page of not knowing what the hell is going on. And I just keep rambling.”

Fox sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. “Okay. We’re both panicking, so I guess I should try to calm down so I can figure out what’s going on. Because I feel like my brain is like five steps behind reality, and it keeps thinking stupid shit that might not be funny once we actually think about it for real.”

“I know what you mean. I keep going through random bouts of giggling, and then crying jags, and then just sitting as if I know what to do next. Yet I’m still nauseous at the same time.”

That made Fox sit up straighter. “Nauseous? Are you okay? You need water or peanut butter? I’ve no idea if the pregnancy myths are true or when they even start. And by they, I mean cravings. I should just shut up now.”

Melody reached out and cupped his face. Her soft hand on his slightly scratchy cheek calmed him more than anything else could have.

“I’m fine. Or at least I will be fine. Let’s talk about the details so that way we can figure out exactly what to do because you may feel ten steps behind, but I’m right there with you.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Good. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until today. I know that sounds stupid, considering how far along I am but, apparently, it’s more common than we think. This is probably too much information, but I don’t really care because, hello, I’m having a baby and I’m stressed out. I don’t usually get my period regularly, so I can’t use that as a timeframe. I’m fine, but it has to do with my dancing when I was younger. So because I didn’t realize I had missed any periods, I wasn’t looking for any other symptoms. I also thought that the nausea and the times when my stomach rolled had to do with the stress of moving to a new town, opening up a new business, becoming friends with you… I didn’t realize it was morning sickness until today.”

She took a deep breath, but he didn’t interrupt her because he had a feeling she wasn’t finished yet.

“I got really lightheaded today and passed out. Only for a moment. I’m fine, but I did it in front of Kenzie and Ainsley, and they made sure I made it to the doctor’s. I had thought they might’ve told you that I passed out because I don’t know exactly how small towns work, but I’m also not sure if they know exactly what happened. Now I’m getting away from the point, so I’m going back. I passed out. Not because I’m sick, not because of not taking care of myself, but because I’m pregnant, and I just got a little lightheaded. I’m going to take my vitamins, I’m going to eat better, and then I’ll figure out what the hell I’m going to do because I’m over three months along now, and I’m really, really scared.”

Nothing else she could have said would have hit him harder than that. He immediately stood up so he could sit on the couch and then pulled her into his arms and onto his lap. He almost thought he’d made another mistake until she leaned into his hold and clung to him.

Fox had no idea what they were going to do. He didn’t question if he was the father, didn’t wonder if she was pregnant at all. Because that’s not who he was, and while he didn’t know every aspect of Melody, he knew that wasn’t who she was either.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.” Maybe if he said it a few more times, he might actually believe it. Because as he sat on the couch and held Melody close, his mind whirled, and he tried to catch his breath.

Melody was pregnant. The baby was his.

He was going to be a father.

What the hell were they going to do?

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