The Pregnancy Plot (Brothers In Arms: Retribution Book 2) by Carol Ericson Page A

understood the lie. He seemed to be taking to it like a natural.
    “And we don’t want to see any more damaged boats or anything like it.”
    Lou spun around and grabbed Kip by the arm. “Whatever. You two deserve each other, but just beware, Jase. Nina will use you and then chew you up and spit you out.”
    “Folks.” The clerk was standing at the end of the aisle, her eyes wide. “We’re closed.”
    Jase waved his toothpaste in the air. “I still need to buy my toothpaste.”
    “Hurry it up, and you two—” she wagged a finger between Lou and Kip “—you need to leave.”
    They left without a backward glance, Kip leaning heavily on Lou.
    Aware of the cashier glancing from her face to Jase’s, Nina kept her mouth shut as Jase paid for his toothpaste and they walked out of the store.
    Not until they climbed into the truck and Nina cranked on the engine did Jase whistle through his teeth.
    “Sorry, sorry.” She put her hand on his thigh. “It wasn’t just a way to get her to stop trying to wiggle into Moonstones—it was a message to her that I wasn’t alone. I hope you don’t mind too much. If she follows her usual pattern, she’ll throw a few temper tantrums and then leave the island when she doesn’t get her way, and hopefully take that creepy Kip with her.”
    “I’m okay with it just as long as you don’t start shopping for rings.”
    The hand on his thigh curled into a fist and she punched him. “Don’t worry.”
    After they returned to the B and B and she’d shown him to the one decent room and bathroom, she lay on top of her covers in a pair of flannel pj’s, rubbing her belly.
    The stress of seeing Lou today couldn’t be good for the baby.
    Had her stepsister been watching and waiting for her to return to Break Island? Did she have spies here reporting to her?
    She rolled to her left side and buried her face in the pillow. Now she sounded as paranoid as Lou.
    At least seeing her stepsister today convinced her that the hole in the boat was not the work of Simon. And why would it be? What did Simon have to gain from giving her a scare?
    She’d escaped from LA to Break Island for relaxation and simplicity, but her problems had not only followed her, they’d multiplied.
    Now she didn’t have to face them alone. She had Jase Buckley on her side.
    She tucked her hand beneath her cheek. She didn’t even know the man. Why did he make her feel so safe? The boat rescue was only part of it. He reminded her of Simon—before the PTSD had taken control of Simon’s mind—steady, strong, loyal, lethal.
    Lethal? Where had that come from?
    Simon had always insisted he held a boring government job developing security systems, but she’d never believed him because he traveled a lot and never discussed his work or coworkers—except that one she met, Max Duvall, who’d been as mysterious as Simon. Maybe she’d let her imagination carry her away, but she’d had a hard time believing Simon was a pencil-pushing civil servant.
    Maybe if he had been, the PTSD wouldn’t have destroyed him.
    And Jase? Was he more than he appeared to be?
    Right now he was her pretend-fiancé—and that was good enough. But shouldn’t even a pretend-fiancé know that his pretend-fiancée was pregnant?
    * * *
    S HE WOKE UP the next morning to the sound of a saw. She shoved her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers and scuffed across the floor to the front rooms. She peeked through the curtains at Jase sawing wood, the old fence torn down and lying in a heap.
    He had shed his flannel, and his muscles bunched and flexed beneath his white T-shirt as he worked. As if sensing her scrutiny, he looked up from the fence.
    No good pretending she hadn’t been staring. She raised her hand and he waved back.
    Tucking her robe around her body, she opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. “How long have you been at it?”
    “About an hour. Did I wake you?”
    “No. You’ve made a lot of progress. Do you want some