Another minute or two of Linc’s calm conversation, and she’d throw up on his shoes. A pregnant woman could only take so much excitement, and having Linc land on her doorstep went way over the line of what she could handle before her head exploded. She wanted peace and some time to think. She’d left DC for many reasons, but the main one was to get some breathing room from Linc. She didn’t want to run into him, and if his photo with some unknown woman had turned up in the newspaper’s style section, she might have gone right over the edge. This was her turf. She should be able to set the ground rules and pick her visitors. Not that Linc understood any of that. He pushed his way in and demanded attention, just as he always did. Yet, through the waves of shock and pain at seeing his face, she didn’t want him to go. The man ruined everything. She paced the three-by-five floor space of the U-shaped kitchen area. She needed more room to speed up and rev up her anger, but she settled for bouncing off counters.
