Jodi Redford - That Voodoo You Do

Jemma clamped a hand over her mouth. Ugh. Why did she have to go and think about food?

Forty-five minutes later, she was showered and re-suited and feeling significantly better. She even managed to wolf down a couple slices of toast before the doorbell rang. Her mom and dad practically tackled her when she opened the front door. Exchanging hugs and teary kisses, they herded her into the living room. While she filled her dad in on everything, her mom brought in two sacks of groceries and set about fixing breakfast. Jemma smiled tremulously, her world shifting one more inch toward normal. But the void of Griff’s absence remained.

“You should have told us the truth, Jemma Sue.”

She bit her lip at the note of censure in her dad’s tone. “I didn’t like lying. About any of it. But I know you guys. I couldn’t risk Nettie using you to get to me.”

“All right. But that doesn’t explain you keeping us in the dark for the past five weeks.”

She couldn’t bring herself to tell her dad about the nightmares, the constant fear of never seeing Griff again. He probably could guess the hell she’d been going through. She didn’t need to color a picture for him. Her mom trotted to the couch carrying two plates loaded down with supersized omelets. Jemma took one whiff of the eggs and her stomach pitched. She squeaked an excuse me and bolted for the bathroom. As she was hugging the toilet and wishing for a quick death, her second reality check of the day crashed into her conscience. She did a quick mental calculation between heaving up her guts.

Oh. Shit.

Reasonably assured her stomach had decided to behave, she abandoned the toilet and fetched the spare toothbrush from the medicine cabinet. She swung the mirrored door shut and caught her reflection. Other than the dark circles under her eyes and her puffy skin, she looked the same. Could it be? But how? She’d been on the pill. Okay, technically she hadn’t taken it since the night she first seduced Griff, but weren’t they supposed to stay in your system for a while? Then again, maybe the whole magic thing tampered with the pills effectiveness somehow. Not to mention Clarissa’s spell breaker…

She rubbed her hands over her face, her head spinning. “Okay, there’s one fact I know for certain.” Her damn period was almost three weeks late. She just hadn’t realized it until now. After brushing her teeth, she returned to the living room. Her parents looked worried but thankfully not suspicious of why she’d just spent ten minutes in the bathroom barfing a lung up. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to lie down. I made the mistake of eating at that truck stop outside of Raleigh, and I’m pretty sure I got a touch of food poisoning.” Hey, good improv .

Once she’d scooted her parents out the door and their taillights disappeared from view, she raced to the kitchen counter and scooped up Griff’s key ring. She hopped in the Pathfinder and drove twenty miles out of her way to the drugstore. No way in hell would she buy a home pregnancy test from the local pharmacy. Shit, Mrs. Pendleton would leak the news and have the baby’s name and gender decided before Jemma made it back to Griff’s with the damn test.

She scoured the shelves of the feminine-product isle, her hands shaking. Clueless which brand was better, she bought one of each. Nervous anticipation made her a basket case during the trip back to the house. Ten minutes later—squatting over a ridiculously tiny piece of plastic—her nerves still hadn’t settled.

Time became a torment as she paced in front of the bathroom vanity.

What would she do if that plus mark turned pink? “Wait, it’s supposed to turn pink, right?” She double-checked the box before resuming her hand-wringing. Was she cut out to be a single mother? Did they have books out there on raising Bengal-tiger quasi-man babies? Aaaagghhh .

The alarm she’d set on her cell phone buzzed and she jumped. She approached the stick resting on a wad of toilet paper with the same caution a swat team would handle a ticking bomb. A bright pink plus sign stared back at her. Her hand automatically dropped to her belly.

A baby. She was having a baby.

Griff’s baby.

Tears gathered in her eyes, this time brought on by joy. While death had tried to vanquish them, they’d created life. Together. Now she’d have another part of Griff to love and cherish. For always.

She spent the next three days browsing the internet for cool baby things. Yeah, it was probably premature ordering the Barbie glam vacation house, but it was twenty-five percent off, for crying out loud. You can’t beat deals like that. Logging off the computer in the study, she ventured into the kitchen and tossed a package of popcorn into the microwave. While she watched the bag unfold and expand inside the nuke box, she rubbed her stomach through Griff’s old work shirt and chatted to the baby. She knew it was just fanciful thinking that the tiny glob of cells growing in there could hear her much less understand anything she was saying, but the act brought her comfort.

The microwave dinged and she yanked out the popcorn. After drizzling on extra butter—hey, she was feeding two now—she curled up on the couch and popped on the television. Her cell phone rang and she rolled her eyes. No doubt it was her mom. The woman had gotten into the habit of calling every other hour since finding out about the baby. Although she couldn’t really complain. Her mom was the one who’d given her the heads up about the Barbie vacation house. She muted the TV and held the phone to her ear. “Let me guess, they’re having a bulk sale on onesies at Carters.”

“I have no damn idea, sugar.”

She almost dropped the phone at Logan’s ironic baritone.

“You still there, Jemma?”

“Errr, yeah. I just wasn’t expecting…” She nibbled her thumbnail, suddenly ashamed at the way she’d up and ditched him and the others in Savannah. “I—I’m sorry for how I behaved last Friday. I should have said goodbye.” No matter how much it hurt.

“It’s okay. Now get over to this door and let me in.”

Her mouth dropping, she swung her gaze in the direction of the entryway. The position of the couch made it impossible to see the windows flanking the doorway, but she craned her neck anyway. “You’re outside. Right now ?”

“Yep. And there’s a raccoon in a spruce giving me the crazy eye. Get your ass over here.”

“That’s Barney. He’s not rabid. Just missing an eye.”

“Oh, that explains everything. Get. Your. Ass—”

“Okay. Sheesh.” She hung up the cell and dropped it on the coffee table. As stated, Logan was waiting on the porch, focus glued to the spruce. “I don’t get it. You’re a wolf. You took down zombies. Yet one-eyed Barney makes you nervous?”

“Have you seen the needles that come with rabies shots?” Shuddering, he hustled her inside the foyer.

“Um, I hate to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “You told me to visit.”

“In a couple of weeks. After I settled in. I clearly remember mentioning that part.”

“Following direction isn’t my strong suit.” His grin was unrepentant.

She snorted. “No kidding.”

“So are you going to invite me in?” Rather than waiting for her permission, he stepped around her and whistled. “Nice digs. Catman’s got good taste.” His swiveled and gave her a wink. “In more ways than one.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Do I look like the type of guy who’d flirt with a pregnant woman?”

“Yes, you—” She broke off with a blink. “Wait a second. How did you know?”

He waggled his brows. What the hell kind of answer was that?