Raw Deal(5)

As far as it being nice to meet her, he could agree wholeheartedly. But  he wanted to see her again. If only it were another time, another place,  another reason. He had no way to express his wishes without coming off  as a total scumbag. For all he knew, she had a man to see to all of her  needs, though any man who let her try get through today on her own was a  cruel son of a bitch. Still, he went for it. "Savannah, can I give you  my number? If you need anything, anything, even if it's only to call me  in the middle of the night and cuss me out, I want you to call me.  Please."

She wet her lips and he thought he saw the beginnings of tears in her  eyes again. Without a word, she nodded and dug in her purse for her cell  phone, handing it to him once she fished it out. He couldn't help  noticing the lock screen was a picture of her and her brother, arm in  arm, all smiles. With the two of them side by side, the resemblance was  even more apparent. The photo looked recent, and he'd been correct in  his earlier assessment: she had a beautiful smile. "This is a nice  picture," he told her. "I'm sure he misses you too." He navigated to her  contacts and input his information.                       
       
           



       

"I'll probably change your name," she told him when he handed the device  back to her. "If anyone sees your number in my phone, there'll be hell  to pay."

"Whatever you have to do."

She held his gaze for a moment and her breathing seemed to quicken. All  of the noise and activity and street music around them faded into  nothing. He noticed a tiny mole above her upper lip. The sultry length  of her eyelashes. The flush creeping up her neck. "Will you go right  back home?"

"I'll hang out with my brother tonight, but I thought I might catch a  ride with him on his tour bus for a few days, see a few sights. Then go  home."

"That sounds awesome, actually. I think I'd rather be anywhere but here for the next few days."

Was she . . . ? No. Couldn't be. That would be crazy. But the wistfulness in her voice was undeniable. God, if only.

"Well," he said, and her eyes never left his as he rose to his feet.  "Thanks for this. And remember what I said. Anything, Savannah."

"Um . . . do you need a ride anywhere?"

"I'll get a cab. Don't worry about it." He offered her his hand.  Something unnamable churned in her expression when she looked down at  it, but she took it all the same. Her grip was firm, her fingers supple,  her skin heavenly soft. But her hand trembled in his. "I don't pray  much anymore," he said, holding it for longer than he should have though  she didn't try to pull away. "But you and your family will be in my  thoughts."

She nodded. "I appreciate it. Take care."

Then she walked away, weaving between the tables and chairs until she  disappeared into the crowd. Leaving him standing by the table alone in a  sea of people.

He knew he was insane if he thought he would ever hear from her again.





Chapter Three


When the call came at six A.M., Savannah nearly poked her eye out with  her mascara wand, fumbled it, and dropped it in the sink with a clatter.  It wasn't exactly a time of day she expected to hear her phone blare to  life. Cursing the lovely black streak now above her eyelid and in her  sink, she groped for the phone on the bathroom counter with the  afflicted eye screwed shut. Damn it.

"Ro?" she asked, alarmed when she glimpsed the ID on the display. "What's wrong?"

"I need you. Come over now."

Exasperated, Savannah jerked a handful of tissues from the dispenser on  her counter with her free hand. "I have an appointment in an hour. I'm  not even ready to leave the house yet."

"You wear scrubs and work in the dark, who cares what you look like? It's an emergency."

"It's dim, not dark. What's the matter with you?"

"Just come." Rowan hung up.

"Jesus," Savannah grumbled. What now? Six weeks had passed since Tommy's  death. Things had grown relatively quiet. Time wasn't healing the  wounds, exactly, but it was helping her cope with their existence. Rowan  had seemed okay lately, but just now she'd sounded . . . different.  Flat. She had her good days and her bad, like they all did, but this  hadn't sounded enough like one or the other for Savannah to make an  assessment as to what she was walking into.

Whatever. Savannah had already had one cup of coffee, but she could tell this called for another. Or three.

Giving up on her mascara, she scrubbed her face completely clean and put  her hair in its customary ponytail. If she was going to see what the  hell Rowan's problem was and get to her first massage client by seven,  she was going to have to haul ass. Luckily, Rowan didn't live far from  Savannah's quaint little French Quarter apartment. She pulled to the  curb outside Rowan's house-it was hard to think of it as only Rowan's  now, not Rowan and Tommy's-twenty minutes after their phone call ended,  and that was after hitting a Starbucks on the way.

Rowan snatched the door open before Savannah could knock and eyeballed  the cupholder Savannah held in her hands, containing two steaming grande  white-chocolate mochas. She was still in her pink robe and her blond  hair was piled on top of her head in an artful mess. Her cheeks were  pink, her eyes large and glassy. "You might have to drink both of  those," she said, her frantic gaze meeting Savannah's at last.

"No problem. But . . . Rowan! Have you completely lost it?" She had  grabbed Savannah's arm and yanked her into the foyer, barely pausing to  close the door. Savannah struggled to hang on to the precious caffeine  in her hands as Rowan propelled her down the hallway, through the master  bedroom, and into the bathroom that was as big as Savannah's entire  bedroom.                       
       
           



       

"Yes, I have. Look." Rowan pointed at the counter.

Savannah nearly dropped the drink holder, espresso and all.

The white devices on the counter were unmistakable. Different styles and  brands, some strips, some squares, some with different colored accents.  Seven of them. "Oh my God," Savannah said weakly.

"They're all positive." Rowan's eyes were huge as she stared down at  them. She was visibly trembling. "I've been taking them for the past  three days."

"Oh my God, Rowan." Savannah managed to put the damned drinks down. Then  she braced her hands on the counter and leaned over the test results  that were going to change all of their lives forever. Plus signs. Two  lines. Or the most obvious of all, perhaps: the word PREGNANT.

"Tommy's going to be a daddy," Rowan said, her voice small and quivering.

There was nothing to do but turn around and hug her tight. Rowan buried her face in Savannah's neck and sobbed.

"I think it's wonderful," Savannah assured her, stroking her back. "It's going to be fine, just fine."

"No it isn't," Rowan cried.

Oh, no. From the time of the phone call, she hadn't been able to  determine Rowan's thoughts. Now they were clear. "A shock. You're just  in shock, okay? It'll wear off and then you'll see it's okay. How far  along do you think you are?" Better to get her off the emotional aspect  of it as soon as possible.

"I don't know. Obviously more than six or seven weeks but I've never  been regular. I've felt a little nauseated here and there ever since the  funeral but I figured it was from crying all the time."

"First things first, you need to go to the doctor."

Rowan stepped back and nodded, wiping at her red nose with the tissue  Savannah plucked and handed to her. "How am I going to tell your  parents?"

"Open your mouth and say it. Really, do you think they're not going to  be overjoyed? Mom has been begging you for a grandchild practically  since you and Tommy met."

"Yeah, she has. But . . . that was then."

"Ro. We have a little part of Tommy still here with us now. That's cause  to celebrate. They're going to be so happy, I promise you. They're  going to want you to take care of yourself too, so you're right-I'm  drinking all of that coffee." That brought forth a small burst of  laughter. Rowan wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Go see Mom  today, all right? Spend the day with her. She's going to have you  shopping already. And call your doctor."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I will."

"Good. I really have to go, okay?"

"Okay. And thanks for the coffee that I can't drink."

"Well, I tried. More for me."

Savannah made sure she was out of sight of Rowan's house before she  pulled her car over in a convenience store parking lot, feeling a swell  of emotion surging up that wouldn't be denied until she'd purged it. It  had been weeks since she'd cried, but now she grabbed the steering wheel  in a white-knuckle grip and let it all out, glad she hadn't bothered  with makeup after all if this had to be the outcome.