Page 1 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Firefighter

Chapter 1 - Emma

The little pink line keeps staring back at me. Mocking me. I can't stop pacing around my bedroom, my sweaty hands clutching the pregnancy test like it might disappear if I let go.

Positive. How the hell is it positive?

I check the time on my phone. It's 8:30 AM. Max will be here in less than two hours to pick me up for the dreaded family lunch—the same lunch where he's supposed to play the role of perfect boyfriend to get my annoying aunt Linda off my back about being single at thirty.

"Shit, shit, shit."

I collapse onto my bed, the springs creaking under my weight. The ceiling fan spins lazily above me, doing nothing to calm the nausea bubbling in my stomach.

Morning sickness or anxiety? At this point, who knows?

Max and I haven't yet had the "what are we" talk. Sure, we've been seeing each other for a month, and every time he looks at me with those dangerous green eyes, my knees go weak. But a baby? Now?

The sound of my phone buzzing makes me jump. It's a text from Max.

"Morning, beautiful. I can't wait to meet the family. Should I bring my medal of honor to impress them???"

I groan and throw my arm over my eyes. He's perfect. Too perfect. The kind of guy who rushes into burning buildings to save people and still manages to look like a Greek god in his uniform.

The kind of guy who makes my heart race every time he smiles. The type of guy who might run for the hills when I tell him I'm carrying his child.

The room starts spinning, and I have to take deep breaths to keep from throwing up. Again. I should be picking out an outfit right now, not having an existential crisis over a pregnancy test.

"Get it together, Emma," I mutter to myself, but my reflection in the full-length mirror looks as panicked as I feel.

My blonde curls are a mess, and my face is pale enough to make a ghost look tan.

Another text from Max: "Be there in an hour. We can get breakfast on the road. Maybe coffee, too?"

Coffee. The mere thought makes my stomach lurch, and I barely make it to the bathroom in time. As I'm rinsing my mouth, reality hits me like a ton of bricks: I'm going to have to tell him. Today. Because there's no way I can sit through an entire lunch with my judgmental family, pretending everything's fine while carrying this secret.

I splash some cold water on my face and try to steady my shaking hands.

"Just breathe," I tell myself, but all I can think about is how those gorgeous green eyes might look at me differently after today.

I drag myself away from the bathroom mirror and force my legs to move toward the closet. The sundress I'd picked out last night – perfect for impressing my family – now seems like a cruel joke.

Will it still fit in a few months? Will I even be welcome at family gatherings once they know I'm pregnant and unmarried?

"Focus, Emma," I scold myself, pulling the yellow dress over my head.

But my eyes keep drifting to the pregnancy test sitting on my nightstand. We were careful. So damn careful. Except for that one night after a rescue mission, when Max showed up in his dress uniform, and... No. Don't go there. Don't think about how his hands felt, or how he—

My phone rings, startling me out of the dangerous memory. It's Autumn, my best friend. I hit the speaker while attempting to tame my curls into something presentable.

"Please tell me you're calling because you're having a fashion emergency," I say, my voice shakier than I'd like.

"Actually, I'm calling because Ash mentioned Max is meeting your family today. I need all the—" She stops mid-sentence. "Em? What's wrong? You sound weird."

The mascara wand trembles in my hand. "I'm pregnant."

Silence. Then, "WHAT?"

"Don't shout!" I wince, dropping onto my vanity chair. "I just found out. And before you ask – yes, it's Max's, and no, I haven't told him yet."

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Autumn's excitement crackles through the phone. "This is amazing! You guys are perfect for each other, and your babies will be gorgeous, and—"

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