Beth didn’t care what the calendar said. She was ready for her pregnancy to be over. If the baby wasn’t born soon—and to hell with twenty more days—she was going to lose her ever-loving mind.
She wanted to see her feet again. She wanted to sleep on her stomach and not have heartburn and not worry about the elevator plunging three floors under her considerable weight. Then, just for grins, throw in the fact they were only one week into June and she was already miserably hot.
Mostly she wanted people to stop hovering over her and checking on her and insisting on doing things for her. She wanted to be left alone.
“Just wait a few hours and I’ll take you.”
She glared at Kevin, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot. “I don’t need you to take me to the store. Pregnant women go shopping all the time.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “At least take my Jeep, then.”
“I don’t want to climb in and out of your damn Jeep. I’m going to take a cab. Which is also something pregnant women do on a regular basis, by the way.”
He crossed his arms and she watched his jaw set into a familiar stubborn line. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Beth.”
“Kevin.” She shook her head, sick of the conversation. “I only came through the bar as a courtesy—to let you know I’m leaving and where I’m going.”
“I just don’t think it’s—”
“I’ve made it very clear, from the day I moved in here—or from the day you decided to move me in here, I should say—that I won’t let you take over my life.”
“And I’ve made it pretty damn clear from day one that worrying about you and your safety and well-being doesn’t mean I’m taking over your life. It means I care about you. I’d have this same conversation with Paulie if she was three weeks shy of giving birth and wanted to run off by herself.”
“And Paulie would tell you to kiss her ass.”
He shrugged. “She might.”
“She would, and so am I.” She turned around to walk away and realized more than half the patrons were staring at them.
“Beth, if you don’t want me to take you, then take Paulie with you.”
She would have whirled back to face him, but she wasn’t exactly graceful on her feet at the moment, so she settled for calling over her shoulder. “Back off.”
The cab was waiting at the curb and she slid into the backseat as quickly as she could manage in case Kevin got it into his head to come after her. He didn’t though and, as the taxi accelerated away from Jasper’s, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
She’d have to apologize to him later and he’d be all understanding and they’d start the cycle again. Friends. Then he’d start pushing a little. Then a little more, until she had to back him off. Then she’d feel bad and try to make him understand. He’d claim to and then off they’d go again.
It was chafing on her nerves. The baby was chafing on her nerves…literally. She just wanted to feel normal again. When she wasn’t hugely pregnant anymore, Kevin would stop hovering and they could stop bickering. Maybe they could start exploring what kind of relationship they really had, or if they had one at all.
Assuming they didn’t strangle each other before then.
The squeal of brakes made her open her eyes just as the cab seemed to explode in a shower of glass and screeching metal. She barely had time to wrap her arms around her stomach before the lights went out.
***
Kevin worked behind the bar. Serving, pouring, wiping. Fuming. Glaring.
He knew from having four nephews and a niece that very pregnant women could be irrational. Even downright unpleasant at times. And with only twenty more days until her official due date, Beth was very pregnant.
Maybe he could still tie his own shoes and find a comfortable position to sleep in, but he wasn’t exactly tip-toeing through the worry-free tulips, either. And he was sick of getting kicked in the balls every time he tried to make things easier for her.
He was sure she was right. Very pregnant women probably went shopping alone all the time. They probably even took cabs. But the big difference between all those other very pregnant women and Beth was that they weren’t Kevin’s.
But, according to her, she wasn’t Kevin’s, either, so what the hell did he know?
The phone on the wall rang and, since nobody else made a move to answer it, he clapped a hand over one ear so he could hear. “Jasper’s Bar and Grille.”
“Hey, Kevin. It’s Officer Jones.”
He turned toward the calendar on the wall, trying to guess which game the cop wanted tickets for now. “Jonesy! What’s up?”
“There’s been an accident.”
Beth. And just like that Kevin forgot how to breathe. His knees wobbled and he slapped his free hand down on the bar just to give him something solid—something not spinning—to hold on to.
“A bus ran a red light and hit the cab Beth was in.”
She got hit by a goddamned bus? Kevin opened his mouth three times before hoarse words emerged. “How bad?”