Page 53 of Time Out

I’d open the door to a stranger on my doorstep holding a gun to my face if he’d promise to help me.

I pushed off my toes and to my feet, shaking as I stood. “Yeah.”

As soon as the door was unlocked, I pressed my back to the wall, and Madison entered. “Here.”

She had a wet, white towel in her hand.

“Is this your magic potion?” I teased and took it, pressed the cool wet towel to my forehead and then ran it along the back of my neck. A groan slipped from my dry, and nasty parched mouth as soon as the coldness hit my skin. “I take it back. This is heaven.”

“A cold rag always feels good when you don’t feel well, but no, that’s not what I thought would help you.”

“It gets better?”

“I love your sense of humor, Maggie. Even when you’re green, you’re funny.”

“Are you saying I look like shit?”

“You look like a pregnant woman in early pregnancy who doesn’t feel good. Not like shit.”

Funny, it didn’t sound all that different. I hadn’t actually thrown up yet, as long as I ate soon after waking, but maybe that was the difference today? I hadn’t started with crackers and tea, but eggs and all the trappings?

Perhaps I wasn’t used to something so heavy… but I hadn’t puked the day Davis made breakfast at my place. Because I’d had toast with it?

Whatever. I could rack my brain all day to figure out the difference and only end up with a splitting headache.

“Feel better?” Madison asked, and with the rag pressed to my face, I nodded.

“Weirdly, yes. I feel a little bit better.”

“Good come on then.” Outside the stall, Madison had brought in a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“I’d suggest you start carrying these with you, you never know when sickness will strike, at least for the next few weeks, you know?”

Between Davis and Madison and even Belle, I was starting to believe everyone knew more about being pregnant than me, and I was the only one who was actually pregnant. Maybe I did need more help.

Maybe Belle and Davis and hell, practically Madison even though she hadn’t actually said the words, were right. What woman would choose to go through this with as little help as possible if she didn’t have to?

“Do you need to head home? We shouldn’t be too busy tonight?”

I needed the tips and as much money as possible.

“I’m good.”

“If something changes…”

“I’ll let you know.”

Madison’s eyes narrowed, and then she gave a quick nod. “Fine, but I’m driving you home as soon as your shift ends at seven, and I don’t want to hear you argue.”

“Okay.”

See? I could accept help. I wasn’t entirely stubborn or difficult.

“So.” Belle rubbed her hands together. “What drawer of his should I peek into first?”

I snorted. This was Belle’s idea and if Davis heard I was here, I was blaming her. I’d planned to sit in Belle’s living room, enjoy a day off, and struggle bus my way through watching a football game, but as soon as I mentioned it to Belle, she insisted we should have a front-row seat.

And by front-row seat, she meant Davis’s living room with her and Lance.

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