Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) by Crystal Kaswell Page A

now."
    "Mom didn't like that either." Drew clears his throat. "She and Willow never had a blow up fight, but they don't talk much."
    "What about your father?" Mom asks.
    I clear my throat. "Mom, Drew's been traveling. He's jet lagged. I'm not sure—"
    "It's fine." He looks at Mom. "He lives in Europe. He's married to a woman a year older than I am. He calls on my birthday. Sometimes on holidays."
    "Oh." Mom frowns. She shakes her head, shifting to a more pleasant topic. "Christmas is next week. We can get a tree tomorrow. Hang lights. I don't know if you celebrate, Andrew... Drew."
    "I do," he says.
    "Excuse me." I push out of my seat to use the bathroom. I have to pee again. Already.
    That's one of the signs, isn't it?
    After I wash my hands, it hits me. I have a period calendar on my phone. I don't exactly use it religiously, but it should be able to help me.
    Damn. The last time I entered something was this summer. But there was something during the school year. I remember asking my friend to borrow a tampon.
    When was that?
    I haven't got a clue.
    I can't even keep track of my periods. Can I really handle taking care of a child? I've only just figured out how to take care of myself.
    I try to push it aside as I return to the table. Drew and Mom are having a nice conversation about a book series I've never read. Something about mystery and action.
    I settle into my seat and pick at my lasagna. It's delicious—chewy, tangy, creamy—but I'm no longer feeling well.
    My gaze goes to Drew. He's smiling, cracking a joke with Mom.
    He'll be a good dad. Overprotective, but good. I can see him cradling a baby, reading comics with a toddler, teaching a kid to play a tiny guitar.
    But not in nine months.
    Not for years.
    Many, many years.
    I stare at my food, forcing myself to take small bites.
    Drew taps me on the shoulder.
    I look up at him with hazy eyes.
    "Kara, your mom was asking about our wedding," he says.
    "What about it?" I ask.
    "When we're gonna pick out a specific location." His eyes fix on mine. "Don't tell me you forgot the date."
    "No. June twelfth. We're doing the beach. What's the rush figuring out the other details?" I take a bite of lasagna and swallow hard. There's an obvious reason to rush, but I don't want that for our wedding.
    "You'll forget all about it when school picks up." Drew squeezes my hand. "You okay? You look queasy."
    I feel queasy. This is overwhelming, and I'm not good with overwhelming.
    I push out from the table. "I'm not feeling well. I think it's allergies." I take a step backward. "I... uh... I'm going to lie down. Why don't you guys go out, take in the city?" I lean in to kiss Drew on the forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine after a nap."
    I climb the stairs to my room, collapse on my bed, and pull the covers over my head. I repeat the words to myself. I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine .
    But every time, they feel like lies.
    ***
    There's a knock on the door. The handle turns, and Drew steps inside.
    "Hey." Drew's voice echoes through the small room. "You okay?"
    I nod. This pregnancy thing is a remote possibility. I think.
    "You sure? I can run out to CVS and grab something."
    "That's okay." I push myself up, blink my eyes a few times, and yawn. "What time is it?"
    "About six. You feeling more rested?"
    I nod. Sort of. My body is more relaxed, but my mind is still racing. No matter how many times I try to tell myself it's not possible, that I should just wait for my next period, I don't quite buy it.
    "You're not going to believe this," he says.
    "Believe what?"
    He closes the door and presses his back against it. "Meg and Miles are getting married."
    That's great! My lips curl into a smile. "Really? When?"
    "In Vegas. As soon as possible."
    I laugh. Of course, Drew is wearing a judgmental expression. He doesn't approve of them rushing.
    "Why you looking at me like that, Kendrick?"
    "No reason."
    "They should figure out their shit. He asked us if we'd come early. He