Read Online Hammer It Home: Powertools, Book 6 by Jayne Rylon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jayne Rylon
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heart. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll take you to the doctor. Right now, if you’re good to stand up.”
“Can I help you?” the salesperson hovering over them asked from more than ritual this time. “Should I call security? There’s a nurses’ station in the main building.”
“No, no.” Morgan rose to wobbly legs. She clutched Kayla’s arm hard enough to leave bruises. “I’m fine, really. Just…a spell.”
The shopkeeper ignored the protest, flicking her concerned glance to Kayla for a ruling.
“Mo…have you missed your period yet?” The time for pussyfooting around had passed. “Are you…”
“She’s pregnant! Of course.” The helpful woman perked up, her face illuminating as she clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh, dear, don’t worry. This is perfectly normal. Is this your first?”
“Well, I’m not sure yet.” Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I…I hope.”
“Honey, I have five brats of my own.” The loving tone belied her disparagement of the kids. “The glow in your cheeks is like a neon sign flashing Preggers! Preggers! I should have spotted it right off. Here, breathe deep. The heat isn’t going to be your friend for a while. Make sure you’re eating regularly too.”
Kayla stripped the dress from where it’d nearly strangled her in her mad dash. She sighed as she pivoted, intending to replace the garment. There were more important things than the most beautiful outfit in the world.
“Wait.” Morgan looked as if she’d fight the kind woman dishing out conventional wisdom like turkey at Thanksgiving. “We’ll take the dress.”
“I didn’t even try it on.”
The shopkeeper exchanged a conspiratorial eye roll with Morgan. “It might as well have been made for you.”
“Please.” Morgan didn’t often beg. “It’s the very least I can do after ruining your day off. You take even less of them than I do.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did.”
Kayla was stunned into silence. Right there in the middle of the boutique, Morgan—practical, fierce, independent, tough Morgan—burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Was a bitch all day. You should have slapped me. But instead you bought me ice cream. Twice.”
A hiccup interrupted the mangled admission.
“Now that’s a friend.” The shopkeeper plucked the dress from Kayla. She floated behind the furniture-quality display case supporting a gilded, old-fashioned cash register as if hysterical women had epic meltdowns in the middle of her sophisticated showroom all the time. “This one is on me. You two are the highlight of my Monday. When you wear it, just make sure people know where you found it. Better than a billboard, I swear. Women everywhere will want to emulate your style.”
Before Kayla could protest, the woman had swaddled the dress in impressive tissue-paper origami and tucked it into an artsy box. She wrapped the package in a bow of some organic material then pressed it into Kayla’s hands.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Her brows climbed.
“Th-thank you.” Morgan sniffled.
“You’re very welcome, dear.” The woman joined them once more, this time extending a wire and bead box concealing mundane Kleenexes. “Go ahead, blow your nose. Take a few spares. The weepy phase can snap back on you.”
Morgan accepted her advice with an exceptionally unladylike noise that reminded Kayla of something she’d heard during a show Dave had watched about rhinoceroses on National Geographic. Probably best to keep that thought private.
“Best of luck.” The owner ushered them to the door. “Mind the stairs. And come back soon. I’d like to know if you’re having a boy or a girl. I’m guessing boy. They always wreaked havoc on my system. What else is new?”
Kayla wrapped her arm around Morgan’s waist and took the stairs slowly, in lockstep with her friend. When she looked up, she caught the shopkeeper waving to them and smiled.
“See, there are benefits to having a hormonal,
“Can I help you?” the salesperson hovering over them asked from more than ritual this time. “Should I call security? There’s a nurses’ station in the main building.”
“No, no.” Morgan rose to wobbly legs. She clutched Kayla’s arm hard enough to leave bruises. “I’m fine, really. Just…a spell.”
The shopkeeper ignored the protest, flicking her concerned glance to Kayla for a ruling.
“Mo…have you missed your period yet?” The time for pussyfooting around had passed. “Are you…”
“She’s pregnant! Of course.” The helpful woman perked up, her face illuminating as she clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh, dear, don’t worry. This is perfectly normal. Is this your first?”
“Well, I’m not sure yet.” Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I…I hope.”
“Honey, I have five brats of my own.” The loving tone belied her disparagement of the kids. “The glow in your cheeks is like a neon sign flashing Preggers! Preggers! I should have spotted it right off. Here, breathe deep. The heat isn’t going to be your friend for a while. Make sure you’re eating regularly too.”
Kayla stripped the dress from where it’d nearly strangled her in her mad dash. She sighed as she pivoted, intending to replace the garment. There were more important things than the most beautiful outfit in the world.
“Wait.” Morgan looked as if she’d fight the kind woman dishing out conventional wisdom like turkey at Thanksgiving. “We’ll take the dress.”
“I didn’t even try it on.”
The shopkeeper exchanged a conspiratorial eye roll with Morgan. “It might as well have been made for you.”
“Please.” Morgan didn’t often beg. “It’s the very least I can do after ruining your day off. You take even less of them than I do.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did.”
Kayla was stunned into silence. Right there in the middle of the boutique, Morgan—practical, fierce, independent, tough Morgan—burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Was a bitch all day. You should have slapped me. But instead you bought me ice cream. Twice.”
A hiccup interrupted the mangled admission.
“Now that’s a friend.” The shopkeeper plucked the dress from Kayla. She floated behind the furniture-quality display case supporting a gilded, old-fashioned cash register as if hysterical women had epic meltdowns in the middle of her sophisticated showroom all the time. “This one is on me. You two are the highlight of my Monday. When you wear it, just make sure people know where you found it. Better than a billboard, I swear. Women everywhere will want to emulate your style.”
Before Kayla could protest, the woman had swaddled the dress in impressive tissue-paper origami and tucked it into an artsy box. She wrapped the package in a bow of some organic material then pressed it into Kayla’s hands.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Her brows climbed.
“Th-thank you.” Morgan sniffled.
“You’re very welcome, dear.” The woman joined them once more, this time extending a wire and bead box concealing mundane Kleenexes. “Go ahead, blow your nose. Take a few spares. The weepy phase can snap back on you.”
Morgan accepted her advice with an exceptionally unladylike noise that reminded Kayla of something she’d heard during a show Dave had watched about rhinoceroses on National Geographic. Probably best to keep that thought private.
“Best of luck.” The owner ushered them to the door. “Mind the stairs. And come back soon. I’d like to know if you’re having a boy or a girl. I’m guessing boy. They always wreaked havoc on my system. What else is new?”
Kayla wrapped her arm around Morgan’s waist and took the stairs slowly, in lockstep with her friend. When she looked up, she caught the shopkeeper waving to them and smiled.
“See, there are benefits to having a hormonal,
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