Page 245 of Wild Card

“What happened to your ankle?”

“I tripped over my cart—such a klutz.” I wave nonchalantly, trying to sound cheery.

He’s not convinced, staring me down.

“Really, it’s all okay.” I twist back, pretending this was a friendly encounter. “Bye, Joseph, have a nice day.”

“Take care of yourself, Willow. Be happy.”

The stranger watches him walk away then dips his chin, following behind. The nagging feeling returns that I’ve seen that man before.

My ankle throbs, the area around the bone starting to swell. Guess I’m adding an ankle brace to my shopping list.

I hobble over to the first-aid area, passing through the feminine products. Automatically, I reach for a box of tampons, figuring it’s a good idea to stock up.

Then I stop dead in my tracks.

My mind races, mentally retracing the last month… the last six weeks… the last two months.

When did I have my last period?

Oh my God, was it…? When Talon was at his reserve weekend?

No, no, no… this can’t be.

“I lost the battle of wills and the man has super sperm that outwitted my birth control.”

Jewls’ words bounce around my brain. I thought it was comical at the time.

Super sperm… Could it be a real thing?

I take my birth control religiously. It’s never failed me before.

Then again, I also wasn’t having sex multiple times a day with Talon Simms.

A man who could make women pregnant with just a wink and a smirk.

Not to mention his body, the tattoos, the way he kisses…

Get it together, Willow! Now is not the time to fantasize about your possible fiancé and his stratospheric abilities to— STOP!

Let’s think logically. Do I have any symptoms?

No…

Unless you count my uncontrollable emotions, the multi-day hangover and vomiting from Shayla’s shots, the gag-worthy, stomach-turning reaction to certain smells like those women earlier, the craving for Talon’s touch.

Nope—no symptoms at all.

Who am I kidding?

My eyes go to the family planning section, the row of pregnancy tests taunting me.

All thoughts of the last ten minutes fly out of my head as I snatch one of every brand, tossing them into the cart.

Then for good measure, I grab double.

Without taking the first test, my body already knows the answer. But my brain will need all the proof.