Pros & Cons (19 page)

“What about you?”

“You don’t want to know, Ethan.”

“If it’s going to ruin our happy day, then no, I don’t.”

She looks up at me. “It’s kind of important. I mean, it’s a little late now, but I should probably mention it.”

“Should I be worried?”

She shrugs.
Yep, I should be worried.

“What is it, baby?”

Jenna winces. “Interesting choice of words. Ironic, actually.”

I’m totally lost.

She nervously licks her lips. “How many times did we have sex today?”

“Three,” I answer automatically. “Wait . . . four?”

“Four. And how many times did we use protection?”

I close my eyes as the enormity of that realization settles in my bones.

“Zero,” I mutter.

She’d made such a big deal about using protection the first time we were here. How could I have been so stupid?

“I forgot, too,” she says, eager to share the blame. “It didn’t even cross my mind.”

I tighten my arms around her. “I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m not sorry we made love, but I am sorry about not using protection. I know it was important to you.”

“I’m not sorry, either, but I’m . . . concerned.”

I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s really worried about this, but for some reason, the possibility that she might be carrying my child doesn’t bother me in the least.

“We’d make beautiful babies, Jenna York.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

I lower my head and gently nibble on her ear.

“Ethan Summers, I am not sleeping with you again until you take this seriously.”

That gets my attention.

She wants me to take this seriously? Fine.

“Are you ovulating?”

Her eyes widen. “What kind of question is that?”

“You want me to be serious? It’s a serious question. Granted, I’m no biology teacher, but don’t you have to be ovulating to get pregnant?”

“Umm, yes?”

“So? Are you?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Hmm. Good point.”

I stand up from the swing, take her by the hand, and lead her inside. Once we’re in the kitchen, I grab my laptop off the counter and sit down at the table.

“What are you doing?” she asks when I pull her into my lap.

“Let’s see what Mr. Google has to say about ovulation.”

“You have
got
to be kidding me.”

My fingers fly across the keyboard. “Hey, you’re the one threatening to withhold sex. This is me, taking things seriously.”

Jenna grins and brushes her lips across my neck. A shiver runs through me.

“You’re driving me crazy, Jenna York.”

She squirms against my lap. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Look at this screen, Jenna. There are literally a million articles about ovulation and you aren’t paying attention at all. And I can’t pay attention because you won’t . . . be still.”

She instantly freezes.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“It’s okay, just . . . stop wiggling.”

She grins, and I kiss her senseless before we turn our attention back to the screen. In the next fifteen minutes, I learn more than I ever wanted to know about a woman’s cycle. I gauge her reaction as she silently counts on her fingers.

“I
think
we’re okay,” Jenna says.

“Yeah?”

She nods.

I gently brush my fingers across her cheek. “We’d be okay, either way.”

Her eyes soften. “We would?”

“Of course. We might have to become normal, though. Get real jobs. Be fine, upstanding, law-abiding citizens.”

Jenna smiles. “Could we live here?”

“We could live anywhere you want.”

She turns in my lap, and my hands encircle her waist, pulling her tighter against me.

“I want to live here,” Jenna whispers against my lips.

Somehow, I manage to find the strength to pull back. Her eyes gaze into mine—deep brown to baby blue—and I’m completely and utterly lost.

“With me?”

“With you.”

Jenna’s mouth molds to mine. With her legs wrapped around me, I lift her up and carry her to our bedroom.

The next morning, I’m awakened by the vibration of my cell. I groan and glance at Jenna, hoping the noise didn’t wake her. It’d been a long night—an amazing night—even with the added protection that Jenna had insisted upon as soon as we reached the bedroom.

 “What?” I grumble quietly into the phone.

“Good to know you’re still alive,” Gabriel remarks lightly. “Don’t mind me. I’m just your pilot. I don’t need to know what’s going on.”

“Sorry, Gabe. I’ve been . . .” my eyes travel to the sleeping girl at my side, and I can’t help but smile. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“How is Jenna, by the way?”

“She’s incredible.” I know I sound like a love-struck teenager, but I don’t care. “So what’s going on in the real world?”

“My hotel room sucks. If we’re going to be spending a lot of time in this part of the state, I may need to start house hunting.”

I grin. “I’ll find you a realtor. Anything else?”

“Actually, there’s been an interesting development. I received an email this morning. Stavros has invited you both to Greece.”

“Well, that’ll certainly make it easier to kill him.”

“I figured that was your plan.”

“Don’t even act like you disapprove.”

Gabe chuckles darkly. “Oh, I don’t. That bastard deserves to die.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

“I’m just not sure you’re the person who should kill him.”

I sigh. “Gabriel, do I need to remind you that he killed my best friend?”

“Not at all. But do I need to remind you there’s a beautiful woman lying in your bed who could get caught in the crossfire?”

Jenna shifts in her sleep, and my eyes drift across her bare back. Unable to resist, I let my hand slowly trail along her spine.

“She really is beautiful,” I murmur, mesmerized as sunlight flickers in through the window and dances across her skin.

“You’re in love with her.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t answer.

“Gabriel, I want him dead.”

“Agreed, but we’re going to need help.”

“I have Jenna.”

“You sure do. Now that you have her, do you really want to get her killed?”

I’m pretty sure my heart stops beating. I just lost my best friend. There’s no way I’d survive losing her, too.

“You’re right, Gabe. We need help.”

We began to formulate a plan.

“They hate us,” Jenna says, angrily strumming the guitar strings. I’m honestly a little worried about my custom Martin. It’s not used to such torture.

“They don’t hate us. They
blame
us. There’s a difference.”

It took hours of convincing, but luckily, it’d only taken one phone call. Apparently, Cara and Jason had become inseparable since the funeral. Neither of them had been particularly happy to hear from me, but they were willing to fly to Tennessee and listen to what we have to say. It’s a risk, absolutely, but it’s necessary. We’re pissed, and there’s only two other people in the world who are as pissed off as we are.

And we need their help.

Jenna continues her assault on my guitar, and when I can’t stand it a minute longer, I gently pry the instrument out of her hands.

“Tell me why you’re worried.”

“Because we don’t even know if we can trust them,” she says.

Just then, the sound of crunching gravel signals their arrival.

“We’re about to find out.”

Her body tenses, and I pull her close, kissing her softly.

“I’m going to take care of you. Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then don’t worry.”

We stand up just as Gabriel walks in, not even bothering to knock. He shoots me a glare and asks for a drink. I point him toward the mini-bar. Seconds later, a very tired-looking Jason Moore and a very pissed off Cara Donovan walk into the house.

“What? No dueling banjos?” Cara snaps, dropping her overnight bag on the floor. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Cara.”

She mumbles under her breath and joins Gabe at the bar. I’d asked Minnie to stock it, knowing the booze would need to flow freely in order for all of us to get along. Jason shakes my hand and says hello to Jenna before collapsing on the couch.

“Man, you owe me. She’s done nothing but bitch since she stepped off the plane,” Gabe mutters tiredly. His gaze then falls upon Jenna, and his weary eyes flicker to life. “It’s nice to see you, Miss York. I trust he’s being good to you?”

I narrow my eyes at him and slip my arm around her waist.

“He’s being wonderful to me.”

Gabe chuckles and joins Jason on the couch.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask her.

“I’d love a drink.” Her voice falls to a whisper. “But since there’s a ten percent chance you’ve knocked me up, I better stick to something non-alcoholic.”

“I thought you said we were okay?”

“I said I
think
we’re okay.”

“What the hell are you two whispering about?” Cara shouts.

We ignore her and sit down on the love seat.

“How was the funeral?” I ask them.

Cara snorts. “
How was the funeral
? How do you think it was? It was a funeral, you ass—”

“All right, that’s it!” Jenna jumps to her feet. “You need to check your shitty attitude at the door because I am in no mood to deal with it. This is our house—”

“
Our
house?” Cara arches an eyebrow.

“That’s right. This is our house. I get that Coop was your brother, but he was Ethan’s best friend, and Abby was mine. We loved them, too. If you’re going to be a complete bitch all weekend, then I suggest you grab your bag and head back to the airport, because I refuse to listen to your bullshit. We want to take Stavros down, and we need your help, but if you’re unwilling to give it, then there’s the door. I suggest you use it.”

God, I love this woman.

An eerie silence falls over the house while the two women stare each other down. We men are too awestruck to really contribute anything beneficial, so we keep our mouths shut.

“You want to take him down?” Cara asks softly.

Jenna nods. “We want him dead. Are you in?”

Cara and Jason exchange a look before turning toward us.

“We’re in,” they say in unison.