Page 14 of Penn

I look at my watch and see it’s barely past ten. There’s a local twenty-four-hour store down the highway, and I can at least get her the basics. The things I know won’t matter quite as much, and then I’ll take her shopping tomorrow to get new clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna make a quick run out. I’ll be back soon,” I say through the door.

The door opens, and Dixie looks worried. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“You need some stuff.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t share my toothbrush, Dixie. Even if I’m burying my face in the most intimate parts of a woman. That’s just… too much.”

Her nose scrunches as she nods. “That’s fair. Here, let me give you some—”

“Don’t even think about it. Is there anything specific you want me to pick up?”

She lets out a long breath. “I prefer spearmint toothpaste. And I should probably have fresh underwear. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?”

“Size small or medium?”

Her cheeks redden as she mumbles, “Medium.”

“Hair stuff… Do you get that shit at the salon?”

“I don’t have to—”

“We’ll talk to Zep’s mom tomorrow. She owns the salon in town. She’ll hook you up. Any specific snacks or foods you need?”

Dixie shakes her head. “No, I’m okay. You’re going to lock the door behind you, right?”

“Always do,” I say and give her a small smile.

The door shuts, and I head out, locking the front door behind me. I hop on my bike and make sure I have enough space in my saddlebags to put everything I plan on buying. If she’d given me a shopping list, I’d have taken the pickup in the garage around back, but I should be okay.

The drive is quiet, but I still keep an eye out for anything suspicious. There’s no guarantee that the asshole who set her house on fire didn’t follow her from the bar when he learned she wasn’t home when he tossed what I’m sure was a Molotov cocktail in her window. It’s the only thing that makes much sense. The neighbors heard glass breaking, and then the flames started.

At the store, I make it a quick trip. A simple pack of panties, size medium, a soft-bristle toothbrush, spearmint toothpaste—I only use cinnamon—a hairbrush, some hair ties, vanilla bodywash, and a pack of socks. I’m about to check out when I pass by the vitamins.

I make a quick call to Zep. “Hey, pregnancy question for you.”

“Tell me you did not knock someone up,” Zep says, his voice just a bit edgy.

“Not me. Dixie from the bar is pregnant. And her baby daddy lit her house on fire, so she’s staying with me for the time being. I’m picking up a few things, but pregnant chicks need vitamins and shit, right?”

“Hold on,” he says, and the phone muffles slightly. “Baby, what vitamins do you need to take early in pregnancy? No, it’s not Pacino. Dixie at the bar… Yeah.”

The phone sounds like it’s falling, and Misty’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Tell me you didn’t knock her up.”

“Not me. Just taking care of her for the time being,” I say, and I’m surprised at how disgusting the words taste on my tongue.

Do I really want to be responsible long term for a woman carrying another man’s baby?

“How far along is she?”

Fuck, I don’t know. “Um… early? She doesn’t have a belly yet or anything.”