Sweet Spot

He stared at her, his gaze steady, until she began to squirm. “Why are you trying so hard not to like me?” he asked. “Do I intimidate you?”

“I…You…Just go away.”

With that, she braced herself on her cane and moved toward the back of the bakery.

“No snarky comeback?” he called after her. “Does that mean I win?”

She turned and glared at him. “Not everything in life is about winning and losing.”

“Sure it is.”

Her jaw clenched. “Go away.”

“I will because I have guys waiting. But I’ll be back.”

“Don’t bother.”

“It’s not a bother. It’ll be fun.”

He left the bakery, whistling as he walked to his truck parked out in front.

Hawk could tell Nicole disliked not having the last word. She was obviously used to being in control and getting her way. Football had taught him a whole lot about life. Sometimes teams got too cocky about being really good at one thing. If you could take that away from them, they were left scrambling. The same with women. Especially women.

It was going to be a good day, he thought as he handed Raoul the doughnuts and started the engine. Suddenly there were a whole lot of possibilities.

”WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Claire asked.

Nicole continued to flip through the shirts on the rack. “No.”

“Come on. It’s pink.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not even looking.”

Nicole held in a smile. “I don’t have to look. No. It doesn’t fit.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re maybe three months pregnant and you’ve gained all of five pounds. You don’t need maternity clothes.”

“But I want to buy something.”

“Get a receiving blanket.”

“I want something I can wear.”

Nicole glanced up and groaned as she saw her sister standing in front of a mirror wearing a bright pink T-shirt with a sequined arrow pointing toward her stomach and the word Baby in case anyone was confused.

“You’re kidding,” Nicole muttered.

“Maybe not this one, but I want people to know I’m pregnant.”

“Have cards printed. You could hand them out to everyone you see.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You don’t need help being insane. You do great all on your own.”

Claire flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “You’re not a very good sister.”

Nicole smiled. “I’m the best sister you have and your favorite twin.”

“My only twin and I haven’t decided if you’re my favorite sister. Maybe one with ducks?”

“No.”

“Bunnies?”

“The baby is the size of a pencil eraser, Claire. Maybe a grape. You don’t need special clothes because you’re carrying a grape.”

“But I’m pregnant.”

“In a couple of months, when you’ve gained all of eight pounds, we’ll talk. Until then, wearing anything maternity is going to make you look like you’re in a potato sack.”

“But I’m excited.”

“I know, and you should be. This is very cool news.”

Claire beamed.

Nicole considered her own genuine excitement at her sister’s pregnancy a testament to her good character. She could find happiness for Claire even knowing the odds of her ever having a kid of her own were as great as her winning the lotto…not that she ever bought a ticket. Pregnancy, unless one wanted to get science involved, generally meant having a man around. She’d given up on men. Permanently.

“Are you okay?” Claire asked. “You’re thinking of Drew, aren’t you?”

Nicole flinched and leaned more weight on her cane. “How do you do that? Know what I’m thinking?”

“We’re twins.”

“Fraternal.”

“Still. I know you.”

It was borderline creepy, Nicole thought. And annoying. She didn’t know what Claire was thinking all the time.

“I’m not thinking of Drew,” Nicole told her. She refused to waste any mental time or energy on her soon-to-be ex-husband. “I was thinking about men in general.”

“You’ll find someone,” Claire promised, sounding irritatingly pitying.