I hope you're having a great holiday season so far. Between wrangling school events, preparing for the holidays and keeping some sort of order in the home, it's challenging to find time to work. However, we're turning One Flight Stand into a book we can be proud of, one ornery sentence at a time.

In the meantime, I've also started putting down words for the next book, so hopefully the wait won't be as long for that one. Once One Flight Stand is out the door, I'll start sharing bits of the new one. 😉

In the meantime, here's another sneak peek at One Flight Stand. 🙂

One Flight Stand: Pregnancy Tests

Andrea

We pull into Walgreens and he yanks the wheel so hard we practically drift into the parking spot. I give a little shriek and grab the oh-shit handle.

When my heart settles down enough to speak, I shoot him a nasty look. “A little less fast and furious, speedy.”

“You make it really hard to be professional. You know that?” Montana reaches over the gearshift and grabs my wrist before I can open my door.

“I didn’t know we were going for professional. Could’ve fooled me,” I snap, knowing it’s bitchy but my emotions are running hot and he’s the only one I have around to vent it on. Besides, he’s half the reason I’m freaking out, so he kinda deserves it even if he doesn’t know it.

He pins me with a dark look. The interior of the car shrinks by the second. “Am I kissing that smart mouth?”

“No,” I whisper, immediately wishing he was.

“Are you sitting pretty in your own seat instead of grinding on my lap like I want?” His eyes go from hot to smoldering as my tongue slips out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. “You like that idea. Don’t you?”

For a second I consider it. A really long second.

“That’s what I thought.” He pulls back quickly, grabbing the keys from the ignition. “So yeah, this is me being professional.”

I follow him into the store, planning murder. Once inside, I head straight to the tampons, and glare at him until he rolls his eyes and grumbles something about grabbing a drink.

Not even looking, I grab a few packs big enough to hide my other items, and then practically rip three different pregnancy tests off their hooks. I have no idea what I’m looking for, but anything proclaiming itself fast or accurate has to be good, right?

Standing in the aisle of a Walgreens, surrounded by the world going on as if nothing at all unusual is happening, it’s all I can do not to scream. The sheer insanity of my life comes crashing down and freezes me in place.

At least until Montana sneaks up and scares the crap out of me. “Going to be a long week?” I panic and grab the first thing I can find. “Two weeks?”

More like nine months, Daddy.

No, I can’t let myself think that yet until I know for sure. “It’s a very good discount.”

“Mmhm.” He’s not even paying attention, too busy checking out the hundred different varieties of condoms. Stupid, useless condoms.

“Slim? Pass. Cherry?” He looks at me curiously.

“What?”

“How do you feel about cherry?”

“I feel like you're being very optimistic right now.”

“That’s not a no.” He grabs a pack and goes to throw it in my basket but I swing it out of the way fast and make a beeline for the front of the store. “Separate tabs, gotcha,” he calls to my back.

There are two registers open, with a few people in line at each. Montana emerges from his condom quest with about six packets—make that stupidly optimistic—and a half-finished bottle of Coke. He gets into the line next to mine.

I stare straight ahead. “Let’s just pay up and get out of here, okay?”

“Sure.”

We stand there practically next to each other in silence as the soft rock remix Drunk in Love never needed pipes from the speakers. I shuffle forward. A few seconds later, he does too.

“Not exactly the Indy-500. Wanna race?”

I smother a laugh. If I wasn’t feeling like jumping out of my own skin, I might actually find his attempts at being playful fun.

He moves forward again before I do. “I’m winning,” he mouths.

Would he still feel that way if he knew about the lottery we’re about to play?

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