I stared at the mess strewn on every one of my counters as I tried to figure out what I needed to do next. For some strange reason, I was having a really hard time concentrating lately. I’d been making this exact same meal for a decade, but putting my recipes together today felt like I was wading through a thick, clumpy bowl of pea soup.

Absently, I rubbed a hand over my belly, still a bit queasy from having thrown up last night’s dinner. The thought of pea soup did nothing to settle it. Thankfully, David hadn’t heard me sneak down the hall to the guest bathroom. He’d been so stressed at work—staying up late to grade papers and exams—that I’d wanted to make sure he slept as much as possible for the next four days of his break.

I reached for a bowl of green beans to begin snapping off the ends when the door to my living room clanged shut and I heard two sets of boots being kicked off and smacking against the foyer wall. A minute later, Theo and Alex entered my kitchen, Theo carrying two bottles of wine and Alex setting two six-packs of beer in the fridge.

“Happy Thanksgiving, sis.” Theo dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Smells good in here.”

“Thanks,” I answered, accepting a second kiss from Alex. “Did you wipe the snow off your boots before coming inside?”

“Yes, mom,” Alex crowed before catching his error. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said, my stomach bottoming out. I still hadn’t gotten over my anger at the fact that she’d tried to usurp my holiday. “Where’s Drew?” I asked, changing the subject. “He said he was coming with you guys.”

“He called this morning and said he’d be over later. If the screaming in the background was anything to go by, I think his girlfriend and boyfriend found out about each other,” Alex explained, rolling his eyes at our youngest brothers’ antics. We’d all warned him something like this was bound to happen.

“Where’s David?” Theo asked, pulling my corkscrew out of a drawer and reaching for two glasses.

“He ran to the store to pick up some molasses or something,” I replied absentmindedly as my eyes raked over the pots on the stove. Potatoes were bowling. Turkey was in the oven. Pies were in the fridge.

What else? What else? What else? My gaze landed on the bowl my left. Oh right, the green beans. I picked it up and passed it to Alex. “Here. Make yourself useful.”

He scowled down into the bowl. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

Theo patted him on the back as he set my wine glass down next to me. “Break off the tips, moron. Same as you’ve been doing every Thanksgiving since you were ten.” Alex grumbled under his breath, but got to work prepping the veggies for the sauté pan nonetheless.

I picked up the glass and lifted it toward my mouth. Before the wine could hit my lips, the smell reached my nose, causing me to gag. I slammed the glass down and lurched toward the bathroom, falling to my knees and hanging my head over the bowl just in time. As I emptied the meager contents of my stomach, the front door slammed shut and three large men rushed to the restroom to check on me.

“Go away!” I cried, waving them away as another bout of nausea roiled through me.

“I got it. You guys make sure nothing burns,” I heard David say as he dropped to his knees next to me, his palm rubbing circles over my back while I dry-heaved into the toilet.

When the sickness passed, I flushed the toilet and collapsed against the wall. David did the same on the opposite side of the room.

“Feel better?” he asked, his eyes filled with worry.

I nodded and pulled a wad a toilet paper down from the roll to wipe my mouth. “Just a bout of food poisoning, I think.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. The nausea started last night after dinner. I feel fine otherwise.”

He tilted his head to the side and studied me. “And the exhaustion?”

“I’m fine,” I said, pushing to my feet and rinsing my mouth out in the sink. Opening the medicine cabinet, I pulled down the mouthwash. Just as I was about to take a swig out of it, I thought better of that plan. I only assumed I had food poisoning. It could also be the flu; it was the season for it, after all, and a few of my co-workers had been out this week battling it.

David stood as well, stepping close to me. Setting his hands to my arms, he turned me toward him. “You’re not fine, Victoria. You haven’t been fine for a couple of weeks. I’m worried about you.”

Damn. I didn’t want him worrying about me. He had enough on his plate with the new workload he’d been given taking over the other professor’s class. I set my palm to his chest. “It’s just food poisoning, I promise.”

His eyes stayed locked on mine, and I watched as he seemed to struggle with something. Eventually he pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around my back. “I think you should see a doctor.”

I shrugged out of his embrace. “What? No. That’s crazy.”

“Victoria, you’re depressed.”

“What? No. I’m not depressed.” I shook my head and took a few steps back, until I hit the wall at my rear.

David blew out a frustrated breath and pushed his fingers through his hair, linking them at the back of his head. “Then how else do you explain the exhaustion? The forgetfulness? The nausea?” He looked meaningfully at the toilet. “I know the signs when I see them.”

On the one hand, I appreciated that he was concerned for my health and wellbeing, but depressed? That was preposterous. Things were going so well. I had a boyfriend I was madly in love with, and even though I’d lost a job I thought I’d enjoyed, I’d landed one that I liked even more. Plus, it paid way better. Aside from the situation with my mom, things had never been better.

On the other hand, he wasn’t wrong about all those things either. I had been more tired than usual lately. And less than an hour ago, I’d been having trouble remembering how to make a gravy I’d perfected nearly a decade past. And now, the vomiting. Maybe I’d been sick for awhile, but hadn’t realized it until now. I’d have to make a doctor’s appointment next week to get checked out.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Sure, I’m not one hundred percent at my best, but it’s not depression.”

“I don’t know, baby.” He peered down at me, his eyes skeptical over my claim. “You don’t look great either. Something’s definitely the matter.”

I swatted him. “Hey! I just threw up. Of course I don’t look great.”

“You know I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but something’s off, Vic.” He brushed my hair back from my face, his palms cradling my cheeks as he stared into my eyes. “Will you promise you’ll go to a doctor this week?”

I nodded and slid my arms around his waist, linking my hands at the small of his back. “I’ll make an appointment on Monday.”

“Thank you.” He dropped a kiss to my forehead. Winning even more points for Boyfriend of the Year, he didn’t even wince when his lips came in contact with the clammy sweat dotting my brow. “I’ve been so worried about you. This thing with your mom—”

I unhooked my hands and set my index finger to his lips. “No. I don’t want to talk about her. She’s made her decision, and now she has to live with the consequences. If she can’t accept that you and I are together, then she can’t be a part of my life.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I don’t love it. But I’m not losing any sleep over it either.”

We both chuckled ruefully. The truth was, I wasn’t losing sleep over anything. In fact, sleeping was all I’d been doing lately. All that running around during Mayor Donaldson’s campaign had taken a physical toll on me. Sometimes, I thought that bears had the right of it by hibernating for a whole season. More and more going to bed in November and waking up in February seemed like an excellent idea.

“So, um … I might have done something. Earlier this afternoon.”

“When you went out for molasses?”

That reminded me, I still had to make the yams.

“I didn’t go for molasses,” he said, hefting himself up onto the counter and pulling me between his spread thighs. “I actually went to speak to your mother.”

My jaw dropped open. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because I thought you were depressed because she wasn’t speaking to you. I would have done anything to make things better between the two of you. I feel guilty.”

My heart melted. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love this man any more than I already did, but everyday he showed me just how terrific he truly was. I may not be speaking with my mom, but I’d be forever thankful that she’d married Richard Carstairs, thus inadvertently introducing me to his son and setting me on the path toward my happily-ever-after.

“There’s nothing for you to feel guilty for. As long as she’s obsessed with the idea that you and I are somehow living in sin because we’re supposedly brother and sister, there’s nothing anyone can do.” I pushed away and grabbed his hand. “Enough about that, though. I’ve got two hungry brothers out there who are liable to burn down my kitchen if left unsupervised.”

David dropped down from the counter, but before I could tug him out of the room, he squeezed my hand. “That’s not her problem with me, by the way.”

I turned back around. “What? Of course it is. She won’t let me forget.”

He shook his head and a wide grin broke out across his face. “Turns out she saw The Wild Tales of Professor Cockstairs and thought it was real.” His shoulders shook with repressed laughter.

“No way.”

He nodded. “Yup. She assumed I was sleeping with my students.”

“That’s … that’s … ” I let out a surprised huff. “That’s even more ridiculous than her being on this whole ‘he’s your brother’ kick. Why didn’t she just tell me about it?”

His shoulder lifted and fell in a shrug. “She said something about not wanting to hurt you with the truth. She thought she could scare you off with the whole stepbrother thing instead.”

I shook my head and tugged him in for a kiss. Remembering my breath at the last possible second, I halted and pressed my hand over my mouth. “So dumb,” I whispered from between spread fingers.

David laughed. “She’s coming over tonight after dinner. At least I think she is. She was horrified when she realized the blog was fake and that you’ve known about it for months.”

“She should be horrified,” I exclaimed. “She was pretty horrible to me. And the things she said about you …”

“Does it make it any better that she assumed she was protecting your fragile heart?” He smirked. We both knew there was nothing fragile about me.

I let out a long sigh. Did it make things better? Honestly, I couldn’t say right now. I was an adult who didn’t need her mother meddling in her love life. And if she did insist on meddling, she should have done it with the truth instead of her stupid, cockamamie story about incest and scandal. If she had been honest with me from the outset, this whole situation could have been avoided.

Instead, David and I had been forced to sneak around like two young teenagers. Thankfully, we’d managed to weather the storm, and our relationship had only grown stronger because of it. Now, however, I wondered what our relationship would have been like if we’d been free to go public with our love much sooner.

It didn’t matter. That was speculation, and our life together was reality.

“I don’t need my mother’s protection,” I answered finally.

David chuckled. “No, you do not.”

With that, we exited the room and made our way back into the kitchen.

“You okay?” Theo asked as he tossed the salad together. I didn’t have the heart to point that he’d put the dressing on a couple of hours early. By the time we were ready to eat, it’d be a soggy, wilted mess.

“Yeah, just a bout of nausea. I think I have food poisoning or something.” I opened the fridge and rooted around for a can of ginger ale I’d bought on a whim the week before.

“That’s good. I was worried there for a second you might actually be pregnant,” Alex said, popping a raw green bean into his mouth.

All at once, the floor fell out from under my feet and the world tilted on its axis. My eyes shot to David’s, whose face had gone white with shock.

My hand coasted to my belly as everything clicked into place.

The exhaustion. The forgetfulness. The nausea.

Oh shit.

I wasn’t sick. I was probably pregnant.