Little Secrets Read Free

breathed in the pepperoni-scented steam as Sean popped the top on a can of caffeine-free cola for her, a beer for him. She’d found a candelabra that had been a wedding gift, never used, along with a set of semi-melted red candles and a half-dozen votive holders. They were eating on paper plates since she hadn’t yet unpacked the dishes, but Sean had discovered another couple of those Looney Tunes glasses in the cupboard.
    â€œCheers.” Sean tipped his glass to hers. “To our first, but not last, romantic dinner in our new house.”
    â€œSalut.” Ginny sipped bubbly cola, relishing the sting of the carbonation in the back of her throat and the sweetly spreading glow of sugar. It would’ve been even better with caffeine, but Sean had read an article that said pregnant women shouldn’t touch it.
    Even with the candles, it was far from the most elegant dinner they’d ever had. No flowers in crystal vases, no glittering silverware or gold-rimmed china. But he was right, it was romantic. Ginny downed a third slice of pizza without guilt over calories and listened to Sean wax philosophical on the benefits of hiring a landscaping service in the spring versus trying to get the yard in decent shape all by themselves. He was making plans for the future, she thought. And that was good.
    All of this was good.

Chapter Two
    All of this was bad.
    Ginny woke, eyes wide, heart pounding, coughing at the sting of bile in her throat. She swallowed hard and pressed a fist between her breasts in a futile attempt to relieve some of the pressure as she sat up against the headboard. She’d gone to bed in a soft flannel granny gown, the house chilly enough to warrant the heavier pajamas since she’d been unable to find the boxes containing either the extra blanket or the flannel sheets. Slick sweat coated her now. She tossed back the comforter and let the cool air cover her instead.
    Heartburn. Nobody to blame but herself since she’d been the one to shove that third slice of pizza down her gullet. Ginny pressed her fist harder against her chest. Beside her, Sean slept the sleep of the guiltless, arms akimbo and one leg hooked outside the blankets. Despite the sweat still running rivers between her breasts and down her spine, Ginny was now cold. Her teeth chattered a few times as she forced herself to swallow, then again, hoping to at least get rid of some of the burning taste at the back of her throat.
    What had woken her? The heartburn, yes, but before that she’d been happily dreaming. Perhaps not so happily, considering the content of her dreams—they’d been full of running and searching. Lots of losing, but not so much finding. Sometimes Ginny clung to dreams, but tonight she was more than happy to have been pulled from them.
    But there. There it was again, the faint scritch-scratch of something in the ceiling. She strained, listening, but didn’t hear it again. Shit. Mice. It wasn’t entirely unexpected. They lived in an old house in an old neighborhood that backed up onto a farmer’s field. There could easily be mice in the house.
    This sounded much bigger than a mouse.
    There were squirrels in the backyard, she’d seen them. They made a weird chittering sound she’d thought at first was birds. The scritch-scratch came again, softer and farther away.
    The home inspector hadn’t turned up any evidence of rodent infestation, but as she’d discovered when she tried to shower before bed, the guy had also completely somehow missed that the hot-water heater wasn’t capable of providing enough water for a quick shower, much less a luxurious one. Forget about filling the old clawfoot tub in the master bathroom. He’d also passed the fuse box, which was obviously not operating up to standards since the power had gone out once more during the move. Ginny supposed she wouldn’t be surprised if the entire house turned out to be overrun with Mickey and