One month later

The little blue line stared at me, distinct and clear. There were three of them sitting in front of me on the bathroom counter. Three blue lines, all telling me the same thing. I had a fourth pregnancy test with me. Maybe I was crazy, but I wanted to be sure. Plus, I liked the number four. It was nice and even. I pulled the last test out of the box. With my heart pounding and anxiety spinning through me, I was almost sweating. I squatted over the toilet again—another undignified moment where I tried to direct my pee onto the little plastic stick.

Tugging my underwear and leggings up again, I looked at the test immediately, watching as the distinct blue line appeared. I still couldn’t quite absorb the fact that I now had four drug store pregnancy tests telling me I was pregnant. My mind tumbled wildly, thoughts racing every which way, as I scrambled to make sense of this.

I can’t be pregnant. This has to be a mistake.

Just go to the doctor, and you’ll find out it’s some weird fluke.

My mind lobbed these points back and forth, but my gut instinct was reacting otherwise. I was never late for my period, but I was over a week late now. How the hell could I have gotten pregnant? I thought back to that night with Ward, just over a month ago. We had used a condom every time.

I flushed hot all over, just thinking about it now. Because that night had merely served to trump my other night with Ward. Over the four years that passed since the first night with him, I tried to convince myself my memories were exaggerated, that sex with him hadn’t been that amazing.

My memories hadn’t done the first night justice. Sex with Ward was a sensual feast. The entire night was a blur of sensation. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Oh. My. God. He was insanely good in bed, a shattering mix of rough, demanding and gentle. If you had asked me before if I would’ve liked a man to take control the way he did, I would’ve laughed the idea off. Ward melted me, inside and out.

I forced my mind off this train of thought. I didn’t need to recall how hot I was for Ward. Most definitely not. Not when I was facing a rather shocking reality. I was absolutely positive we’d used a condom every time, but I had four pregnancy tests with damning blue lines on the bathroom counter. I sat down on the toilet, tunneling my hands through my hair with a sigh.

I would go to the doctor to be absolutely certain. Yet, the evidence was fairly clear. I was almost one hundred percent certain I was pregnant, and Ward was the father.

Restless, I stood quickly, striding out of my bathroom to a small desk in the corner of the living room. Opening my laptop, I inanely searched can you get pregnant with a condom?

Great, just great. According to my trusty Internet search, even if we’d used every condom perfectly every time, there was still a two-percent chance of pregnancy. The overall statistic was even more sobering. In real life, condoms were effective a lowly eighty-five percent of the time. Because real life translated to how well people paid attention to detail when they were so hot for each other, they were practically on fire.

With a slow sigh, I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair. I idly glanced around. I loved my small home. My father had helped me build it a few years back. My family owned lots of land in and around Willow Brook. My place was on a lovely few acres not too far from my parents’ home. My father and I had built a cute A-frame cabin for me with decks on both floors. The downstairs living room area was bright and airy with windows comprising the entire front wall and overlooking a field with a view of Swan Lake in the distance.

The kitchen was toward the back of the downstairs with a bathroom and laundry off to one side. Upstairs, there was a loft with two bedrooms and a bathroom. The space was bright and open with modern, clean lines. I wanted a dog, but I kept holding off because I felt like my lifestyle didn’t fit a dog very well. As a hotshot firefighter, I was gone for weeks at a time during the summer months.

All of a sudden, my mind skipped from a dog to a baby. The first thought that passed through my mind was relief I had two bedrooms because there would be a room for the baby. My thoughts came to a screeching halt, so screeching it was a miracle I didn’t get whiplash from the force of it.

What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously thinking about actually having a baby?

Apparently, I was. The gravity of my situation slammed into me, and I lost my breath for a moment. I would go to the doctor to be absolutely certain, but four pregnancy tests were shouting the answer loud and clear—I was pregnant.

I knew without a doubt that Ward didn’t expect this. We had used protection every time. That night was just supposed to be one night, and then we’d forget about it. The following morning he had made me coffee, and the mood had been relaxed and easy. Somehow, I’d convinced myself we’d carry on without a hiccup. We’d even been all adult about it.

I’d said, “So when you get back, we forget this ever happened right?”

His silver gray eyes flashed. “Of course.”

Now I was pregnant, and he was due back tomorrow. This was a colossal mess.