Page 17 of Faith

“Nic, you want to tell me what that was all about?”

She glanced at him, then back to gathering her breakfast off the tray. “What?”

“You looked ticked off.”

She set her plate down and looked at him across the table. “Nothing’s wrong, Jen. I said, I was just tired from the trip.”

“No.”

She frowned. “No? I did say I was tired from the trip.”

To demonstrate it to him, she poured herself some more coffee. “See.”

“No. You told me once you acclimate well. All the traveling for competition taught you how to deal with extensive travel. I remember it particularly well.”

Jensen had one of those minds that never forgot anything. To prove his point, he had to tell that story. Again.

“We had just landed in LA three years ago—you remember, right after you started working for me. And I got sick. Stomach was all topsy-turvy and you told me to suck it up. You said you were a woman and you dealt with it. Learnt it from your days on the road as a skater. Remember?”

Of course, he remembered that. He remembered everything.

“How was I to know that you had food poisoning?”

He grunted but didn’t continue berating her. Instead, he gathered up enough food for a small army and started to eat.

“Good appetite,” she commented.

“I always have a good appetite. Well, except when I was using.”

“Hmm.”

He looked up from his plate and studied her again. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“There is something off this morning. Did your night go badly?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Had a fabulous time. Serenity is expecting.”

“Expecting what?”

She rolled her eyes. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, hmm. Is that your reason for feeling off?”

“Why would that make me feel off?”

“She’s younger than you...and now having a baby. You know?”

“No. I. Don’t.”

Jensen was usually better at handling her anger. Granted, many times she knew he did it to get a rise out of her. Now though, he seemed to genuinely be acting like an asshole.

“The old baby ticker has to be ready to ring sometime soon.”

She felt her temper rise. It didn’t happen that often. In fact, Oliver had often said she was cold as the ice they skated on. When her temper got going, that ice could shatter.

“The baby ticker? Oh, right. All women are just dying to have children because we aren’t real women without them.”

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