Page 30 of The Complication with the Best Man

There’s a long line, so I check my watch and see I have some time.

A woman is asking the pharmacist a million questions. I can’t hear what it’s about since I’m too far back in line, but it’s clear from the pharmacist’s expression that his patience is wearing thin. I wonder how long she’s been here. The guy in front of me turns around and raises his eyebrows, clearly annoyed to have to be waiting for this woman.

There are several different bottles on the counter in front of her, and she keeps picking up one then another. It appears she’s asking a bunch of questions about each of them.

The guy in front of me grumbles, and I can’t say I blame him. I just want to get my medicine and get out of here.

Finally, the woman settles on one of the bottles, pushing the others toward the pharmacist, who looks like at her with more annoyance than the guy in front of me.

She turns to leave, and she’s wearing sunglasses. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head. She keeps her chin down against her chest so she’s practically staring at the floor as she walks away from the counter.

Since I’m standing where the line curves, and she has no choice but to cut through, I take a step to the side to let her pass, but she moves in the same direction I do because she’s looking at the floor. She bumps into me, and the bottle she’s holding falls, making enough noise that everyone else in line turns in our direction, giving us a look like “what now?”

“Sorry.” I get down on my haunches to pick up the bottle for her, seeing that it’s prenatal vitamins. I’m not as annoyed that she took so long—she’s pregnant and wants the best for her baby. Who could blame her? “Here you go.”

As I straighten, holding out my hand to pass the woman the bottle, she gasps, and I quickly look from where her hand is held out to her face.

“Harper?” My head rears back.

How did I not realize it was her? Then again, I’ve never seen her in baggy jogging pants and a hoodie with oversized sunglasses. But I’d know the shape of her face and the strand of deep red hair that’s peeking out from under her hoodie anywhere.

She whips her head around to see if anyone is paying us any attention, but the people in line have turned back around, eager to be waited on.

Like an idiot, it takes me a minute to put together why she’s so panicked, the bottle I just handed back to her, and why she’s in disguise like some movie star.

“Holy shit.” I blanche.

The bottle of prenatal vitamins slips from my hand, and I’m sure if I could look anywhere but at Harper, I’d see the people in line are staring at us. Harper bends over to pick up the bottle, grabs me by the forearm, and tugs me farther away from the line. I mindlessly follow her, trying to put all the puzzle pieces into place.

“Are you pregnant?” The question comes out sounding more like an accusation than I’d like, but I’m so in shock, and my mind is flipping through the consequences double-time, that I can’t stop myself.

“Keep your voice down.” She scans both ends of the aisle and sighs. “We need to talk.”

My stomach turns over, and I feel as if I might be sick. “You think?”

“Somewhere someone won’t see or overhear us. Let me pay for these, and you can follow my car.” She doesn’t wait for me, heading up to the front of the store to pay.

Needing some fresh air, I decide to wait for her outside on the sidewalk.

I’m jumping to conclusions. No way the baby is mine. She would have told me by now. I’m not loving the jealousy I feel thinking about another man’s hands on her. But she’s a single, hot-as-fuck woman who has every right to sleep with as many people as she wants. And I’m fucking engaged.

But that’s all bullshit because if I wasn’t the father, she wouldn’t have been all jittery and panicked when she saw me.

The sweat along my forehead increases the longer I’m waiting and thinking about what this all means, so I take my ballcap off my head, smooth my hair back, and put it on backward. It’s still a little chilly out this early in the morning, but I feel as if I’m baking in the hoodie I’m wearing though I know it has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the woman who is leaving the drugstore and walking toward me.

“Where are you parked?” she asks.

“In the parking lot behind the stores.” I gesture in the general direction.

She nods. “Me too. Follow me, and then we can talk.”

Talk?

That one little word confirms I’m going to be a dad.

* * *

Forty minutes later,we pull into the driveway of a cute little cabin set in the middle of the woods.

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