“I’ll take this, and then you’re going to leave.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. “I’m not taking no for an answer this time, Gage. This is it, we’re done.”

Without waiting for his response, she stalked past him and climbed slowly up the stairs.

He stayed where he was, the knuckles of one hand turning white around his coffee mug as the seconds ticked by. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so pissed.

This was exactly what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For the sticks to keep turning up minus signs so he could know Jenna wasn’t pregnant and get back to his life, back to his job.

But the past few days had spoiled him, lulled him into a false sense of contentment. It had been so easy to push all the important stuff to the back of his brain and focus only on the fact that he was with Jenna again. They weren’t fighting and were enjoying each other’s company.

More than enjoying. A couple of times, he’d damn near enjoyed himself straight into a coma.

Now, though, reality was smacking him full in the face. His ex-wife was upstairs peeing on a stick that could very well show a positive sign this time. Then where would they be?

Nowhere he wanted to think about right now, that was for sure.

It wasn’t in Gage’s nature to bury his head in the sand over anything, but at this particular moment, he was happy to play ostrich rather than let his mind wander down all sorts of paths he wasn’t ready to deal with. If he had to deal with them, he would-what other choice did he have?-but not until it was absolutely necessary.

Shifting in his seat, he tipped his coffee cup, which had only a couple of swallows left at the bottom. His butt was getting sore and his coffee had grown cold. How long had he been sitting here? he wondered. How long had Jenna been in the bathroom?

With a frown pulling down his brows and the corners of his mouth, he checked his watch. More than twenty minutes had passed since Jenna had stomped her way upstairs.

Well, she hadn’t come back down, that was for certain. He hadn’t heard her moving around up there, either, but then, he hadn’t exactly been paying close attention.

The legs of his chair scraped across the floor as he pushed to his feet and started for the second floor. Jenna was nowhere in sight, and the bathroom door was still closed.

He debated going back downstairs to wait her out, then thought twice about it. The image of her sitting in there holding a little white stick with a plus sign on it flickered across his mind’s eye and tightened the muscles low in his gut.

Shit. This possible impending-fatherhood thing was worse than a prostate exam.

Taking a deep breath and hoping trepidation didn’t shrink his balls to the size of marbles, he leaned a shoulder against the jamb and rapped his knuckles softly against the door. “Jenna? You okay in there?”

A couple of muted scuffles followed his query and a minute later the door opened. Only a crack at first, then all the way as she stepped out into the hall.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Fine.” The reply was blunt and emotionless, but when she lifted her head to meet his gaze, he could see it was also a lie.

She wasn’t crying now, but her eyes were rimmed with red, her nose slightly puffy and mottled.

His heart lurched. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

Did he even want to know?

“Here,” she said, thrusting the small white stick from the test kit at him. Her balled-up fist hit him in the center of his abdomen, driving the air from his diaphragm as his hand automatically came up to take what she was offering.

The instant they touched flesh to flesh, she released her hold on the plastic wand and yanked her hand away. He tried not to flinch, but felt her rejection like a two-by-four to the back of his knees.

“Congratulations, you win again,” she said, her tone pinpoint-sharp and dripping with derision. “And you can save yourself the trouble of coming back here every day with another test, or calling and pestering me to take one, because it’s no longer necessary. I just got my period, so there’s no baby, and probably won’t be one any time in the near future. Maybe never, thank you very much.”

Her voice cracked on the last, and he caught the threat of tears brimming in her eyes just before she brushed past him and rushed down the stairs.

He’d thought he would be relieved when she finally got her period, when there was definitive proof that she hadn’t gotten pregnant during their one night of unprotected sex.

Instead, he felt oddly disappointed. He wanted to run after her, but knew she wouldn’t welcome his company at the moment, and had no idea what he’d say even if he did.

The best thing he could do now was thank his lucky stars and get the hell out of Fertile Valley before he did something stupid like kiss her, apologize, sleep with her again, or-God forbid-offer her another shot at his little swimmers just to wipe the look of devastation off her face.

No. He’d dodged the bullet once, he was not going to risk a direct hit next time around. It was done, finished, over with. Life could go back to normal… or at least what he’d come to accept as normal over the past year and a half.

And if he wasn’t particularly happy, if he came home to an empty apartment and fell asleep in front of the television every night with only memories of better times to keep him warm…

Well, he could live with that. Especially since he didn’t seem to have a choice.

Knit 17

Gage stood in front of his locker at the precinct, stowing his watch and trading his boots for an old pair of sneakers that had seen better days.

His team was going out on some undercover drug busts, so the faded jeans and white T-shirt he’d worn in could stay, but he’d add a skull-and-crossbones do-rag and a ratty, sleeveless denim jacket covered in scary-looking patches. That, along with his own personal body ink and a few other minor touches, should work to convince dealers he was up to no good and looking to score.

“Hey,” Eric Cruz, one of his buddies and a fellow undercover officer, said as he came up beside Gage to open his own locker. “Glad to have you back.”

“Thanks,” Gage offered without much genuine sentiment. He’d only been gone a little over a week, but knew from experience that when one of the guys was missing from an op, you felt the loss and it altered tactical strategy accordingly.

Gage had expected to feel exhilarated by his return to work. He’d always enjoyed his job, gotten a thrill out of almost every aspect of it. It was a rush to go undercover and play a role that got the bad guys to trust him, then drop the hammer and put them in jail. It was exhilarating to organize a bust and be there for the take-down.

So, yeah, lately he hadn’t felt quite as enthusiastic about it all, but when he’d first asked for time off to stay with Jenna, he’d been kind of pissed at having to leave. Then he’d decided that going away for a while might put things back in perspective and help him appreciate the job even more once he returned.

They hadn’t been in the middle of anything big when he’d taken leave, either, which was a plus. But the thought of distancing himself from his team, of having something come up that he wouldn’t be aware of, rubbed him the wrong way.

Then, after a while, he’d stopped thinking so much about what he was missing at work and had begun to simply enjoy relaxing, hanging out, and being with Jenna. He hadn’t even minded helping out with the alpacas, despite the fact that the little buggers spit when they got scared. A couple of them had also trampled his toes and come damn close to making him sing soprano.

Once he’d been sure Jenna wasn’t pregnant, though, and… okay, he hadn’t left so much as been kicked out… he’d thought he’d be relieved to get back to his usual routine. Instead, he’d found himself dragging around ever since his alarm had gone off that morning. Both physically and emotionally, he just couldn’t seem to generate a spark of interest in anything these days.