“The sex of the baby,” she said. “Do we want to know in advance?”
Zane looked at her. “From the ultrasound.”
She nodded. “I haven’t decided yet. There’s a part of me that says there are too few real surprises in life and that it would add to the excitement not to know. My more practical nature says if we know, we can plan the room better.”
“I don’t know, either.”
Nicki had a feeling that his indecision came from other concerns, such as would he protect her better if he knew or if he didn’t know. She wished she understood what was going on inside his head and why he was so freaked out about the whole thing. She’d honestly expected panic and indifference, not this burning desire to run her life.
Although she had to admit that he’d backed off as promised. When he’d called the previous evening to check on her, he hadn’t even asked what she’d had for dinner. Of course she’d heard the tension in his voice, so she’d taken pity on him and had offered the information.
“Do you need more paint chips?” he asked. “I can get different colors.”
“These are fine. I was thinking of yellow anyway. It’s a cheery color on our gray days.”
“Once you pick out what you want, I’ll do the work.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because using a brush and roller will strain me in my delicate condition?”
“Because I don’t want you breathing in the fumes.”
“Okay. Good point. I’ll let you do the painting.” She smiled. “You’re going to have to do the border print anyway. I can’t reach.”
“Not a problem.” He glanced at his coffee mug, then at her. “You don’t have to keep telling me what you’re eating. I’m going to let that go.”
“Really? Even if I have ice cream?”
He looked distressed, but instead of complaining said, “I’d like you to eat right about eighty percent of the time.”
“That’s what I want to do, Zane.” She rolled close to him and touched his arm. “I’m nervous about this whole baby thing, too. I want to stay as healthy as possible. Even if I get the occasional craving for a chili cheeseburger.”
“You’ll want to pass on that.”
“Why? Too much fat?”
“You’ll get heartburn. Pregnant women are more susceptible.”
“That’s romantic,” she grumbled.
He tugged on a lock of hair. “I live to serve. Come on. Show me the crib.”
She led him into one of the spare bedrooms. She’d chosen the one that faced south for the baby’s room, so it would get plenty of light in the winter, but not be too hot in the summer. A partially assembled crib lay in pieces on the floor.
Zane crouched down and picked up a railing. “This isn’t new.”
“Oh. Didn’t I mention it was an antique? That’s why I bought it. A woman brought it in to sell on consignment while I was looking around the baby furniture store. The salesperson didn’t want to take it, but I was interested. The woman had a picture of what it looked like and when I saw that, I fell in love with it.”
She pointed to the old photograph she’d tacked up on the wall.
“Where are the instructions?” he asked.
She glanced around at the pieces. “Over there. By the headboard. Or is it a footboard.”
Zane picked them up and frowned. “They’re handwritten.”
“I know. Isn’t it cool? I thought I’d put the crib together and make sure all the parts were there, then take it apart and strip it down and either stain or paint it.”
He groaned. “You don’t even know if all the pieces are here?”
“The woman said they were, but there’s only one way to tell.”
“And you didn’t want to buy something out of a box because why?”
“I want it to be special. I love that this crib is nearly a hundred years old.”
“Yeah, that’s real exciting. Do you see how close together the rails are? Do you know how much work that’s going to be to strip?”
“Honestly, I haven’t a clue.”
“Great.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “If it’s too much trouble I could hire someone to—”
He cut her off with a growl. “Fine. I’ll get it together, then take it apart and strip it down. When do you plan to decide about paint versus stain.”
“I have no idea.”
He looked at her. “You’re being difficult on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Maybe just a little. To pay you back.”
He grunted. “Sit tight,” he said as he rose. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned with several brochures for dressers, changing tables and bassinets. “I’ve been doing some research.”
“Of course you have.”
He ignored that. “Babies need a lot of stuff. Most of it is a standard height.”
He opened one brochure and set it on her lap, then crouched next to her.
“See the changing table?” he asked, pointing. “It’s going to be too high for you. The dresser is less of a problem, but the top drawer can still be difficult.”
She nodded but didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
“So I talked with this buddy of mine,” he told her. “He does a lot of custom work. I explained the problem, how you’d need the table low and I’d want it to be the regular height. He came up with this.”
Zane pulled a folded piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans and passed it to her.
“See this lever here? It will raise and lower the table to different preset heights. You’d just lift it or lower it. These steel pins would lock into place, so we wouldn’t have to worry about the table shifting while the baby was on it. He told me that he’d be happy to match whatever style we want.” He shrugged. “If you’re interested.”
Nicki looked from the sketch to Zane. Deep inside, something cold and frozen warmed enough to melt. Her heart fluttered a little.
This was the Zane she’d fallen for. The man who thought of her being in a wheelchair as little more than a fact of life. Whatever logistical problems it presented were simply challenges to be solved, nothing more. He didn’t judge her. She’d been wrong to think he did. Funny how all these years after she’d made peace with her condition, that was still the first place she went when something went wrong. Apparently the healing took a whole lot longer than she’d realized.
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” she told him. “You were really sweet to think of this.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with concern. “You sure I’m not stepping on your toes?”
She wiggled her bare feet. “Not even close.”
“Good.”
He sat on the floor and picked up a piece of the crib. “At least we have a long time until the kid is going to have to use this.”
“What? You can storm beaches and overthrow governments but you can’t put together one little bitty crib?”
He collected a handful of screws and shook his head. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
She watched him sort through the parts. As always, he moved with a graceful ease that left her breathless. Wanting stirred deep inside. Wanting and a need to connect with him. She missed the intimacy they’d shared. Not just the lovemaking, but the friendship. From what she could tell, they were taking baby steps in that direction. How long until they were back where they had been a couple of weeks ago? Or was that lost forever?
“Do you think I’ll be a good mother?” she asked.
Zane looked at her. “Of course. Why?”
“I worry. I’ve never been a parent before. I don’t want to mess up the kid.”
“Your parents did a good job with you, so you’ve seen how it should be done.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she told him.
“I’ve been reading that they think intelligence is passed down through the mother. So the baby will be smart.”
That made her smile. “How com
forting. Now if only he or she will inherit your mechanical abilities.”
He glanced at the pieces he held. “I’ll get it.”
“I have no doubt.”
Zane knew she didn’t. Nicki trusted him with a completeness that left him humble. And terrified. He couldn’t believe she worried about being a good mother. She was patient, loving, funny. She knew what it was like to be part of a family. What did he know? He’d grown up on the streets. He’d belonged to a gang, which wasn’t exactly like being a part of mainstream society.
He’d agreed to back off the monitoring, which intellectually he knew was the right thing, but in his gut, he sweated every second of every day.
A thousand things could go wrong. Didn’t she see that? If he was around, he could protect her. He could save her—which he hadn’t been able to do with Amber.
“We’re going to have to talk about names, too,” Nicki said. “I know this is way premature, but I suspect we’re going to argue about it, so we may want to start that early.”
“Because you love a good fight?” he asked.
“So I’ll have more time to convince you that I’m right.”
She laughed as she spoke. This morning she wore her hair loose. There wasn’t much makeup on her face, but her cheeks glowed with color. She was so beautiful, it was almost painful to look at her.
Dressing for the unseasonably warm fall day, she’d pulled on shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. He could see the perfect lines of her body. He thought her breasts might be a little fuller, but otherwise, there weren’t any physical manifestations of her condition that he could see.
Still, the baby grew inside of her. His baby. Their baby.
He dropped the crib pieces on the floor and shifted onto his knees. Cupping her face in his hands, he stared into her eyes.
“Marry me,” he breathed.
Her green eyes darkened with what looked like pain. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you want to control me and I want to be loved.”
He dropped his hands as if they’d been burned. Love. Had she really spoken the word?
“I care about you,” he said.
The corners of her mouth curved up. “I’m glad.”
It wasn’t enough. He could see that. But how could he convince her?
“I can’t be with anyone else,” he told her. “Going out with Heather was a disaster. I thought about you the whole time.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
She stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “What happened, big guy? You discover that you need a little conversation while you’re doing the wild thing?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad.”
She looked deep into his eyes, as if searching for something. Zane had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to find what she wanted. So he did the only thing that made sense. He kissed her.
Chapter Fourteen
What started out as a distraction quickly turned into something else. The second Zane’s mouth brushed hers, he found himself caught up in a passion he couldn’t control. Need flooded him, making him hard and ready in less than a heartbeat.
He swept his tongue across her lower lip and when she opened for him, he plunged inside. She tasted sweet and hot and he couldn’t resist her. Not when she strained toward him, moaning in the back of her throat.
Heat exploded. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her from the chair. When she was on his lap, he slid his hand up her rib cage to her breasts and cupped the luscious curves.
“Yes,” she breathed as he lightly touched her already tight nipples. “Oh, Zane, that feels so good.”
He’d read that a pregnant woman’s breasts could become more sensitive in the first trimester. He’d thought it would mean that Nicki could find his touch painful. Apparently in her case it just meant she was more erotically responsive. He was man enough not to mind.
He pulled off her T-shirt, unfastened her bra, then bent low to take her nipple in his mouth. As his lips closed around the taut flesh, she sank her nails into his back.
“Oh, yes,” she gasped. “I can’t believe it. More. Do it more.”
She clung to him, panting, pleading, writhing. He sucked a little harder, flicking his tongue against her, and she shuddered.
“It’s not possible,” she breathed, then shuddered again.
His mind raced. Was she climaxing?
He ripped off his own shirt and laid it on the floor, then lowered her to the soft cotton. Her eyes were unfocused, her mouth slightly parted. He bent down to her breasts again.
At the first brush of his tongue, she sucked in a breath. When he closed his lips around her nipple, she grabbed his head with both hands and held him firmly in place.
He reached for the waistband of her shorts and unfastened the button. After lowering the zipper, he slipped his hand under her panties and headed south. She parted her legs and moaned.
She was damp, he thought as he eased between folds of swollen flesh. Timing the movement of his mouth with the progress of his hand, he slid a finger inside of her just as he drew deeply on her breast.
Strong muscles convulsed around him. Stunned, he moved in and out of her. She sighed her pleasure.
Zane swore and jerked off her shorts and panties, then shoved down his jeans and briefs and pushed into her.
She climaxed with each thrust. He’d never experienced such intense pleasure. The combination of heat, tightness and rippling massage made short work of his control. In an effort to please her as much as possible before he completely lost control, he raised up slightly and slipped a hand between them.
As he rubbed that swollen point of pleasure, she actually screamed. Her entire body surrendered. It was too much for him. He pumped in twice more, then lost control in an explosion of glorious release.
“The problem with doing it on the floor,” Nicki said a couple of minutes later, “is that there’s no lingering.” She sighed with satisfaction, then admitted, “My back is starting to hurt.”
Zane raised his head and smiled. “Then we’ll have to move to the bed.”
She couldn’t think of a place she would rather be. “You just want a repeat performance.”
He kissed her, then sat up and drew her into a sitting position. “Are you kidding? You were climaxing with me just touching your breasts. Who knows what you’re capable of if I put my mind to it.”
She didn’t know, either, but the thought of finding out was delightful.
“What about all the work we had planned?” she asked as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
He lowered her onto the mattress and kissed her. “Tomorrow,” he whispered. “Let’s just spend today in bed.”
“I’d like that a lot.”
“We can even order take-out.”
“Chinese?” she asked.
“Whatever you’d like.”
Monday morning Nicki practically floated to work. The past two days had been perfect. Zane had gone home Saturday afternoon to pick up a few things, but aside from that, they’d spent every second together.
They’d talked, they’d laughed, they’d made love. Given her body’s new delicious sensitivity, the latter had been exquisitely wonderful.
Now as she parked her van and waited for Zane to pull up beside her, she knew that what they’d experienced over the past two days was available to them for the rest of their lives. But only if they both had the courage to fight for it.
Nicki figured she would be the one to start the battle. She loved Zane and she wanted him to love her. For some reason he couldn’t…or wouldn’t, and she was going to have to find out which. Any attempts she’d made to discuss his past had been skillfully diverted, so she was on her own. Fortunately, she had some ideas and she planned to put them into effect that morning.
“How can I help you?” Jeff asked when she rolled into his office shortly after eleven.
“I need your help with some research.”
Jeff smiled. “I’m surprised. You’re the best.”
“This is a special project. I want to find out about Zane’s past.”
Her boss’s expression didn’t change, but she sensed his withdrawal from the conversation.
“This is important,” she told him quickly, before he could speak. “I don’t know how much Ashley has shared with you, but I’m pregnant. Zane’s the father. I’m in love with him, but while he wants to be a part of my life, he’s not interested in sharing much more than responsibilities and duties. I want to know why.”
Jeff was a pro. She had a feeling he hadn’t known about her condition or her relationship with his partner, but not so much as a muscle twitched. His expression remained as it had been.
“Ask him,” he said.
“He’s not big on chatting about the past.”
“Maybe there’s a good reason for that.”
“I’m sure there is, but that doesn’t change my need to know. Why does he hold his heart so carefully out of reach?”
Jeff leaned back in his chair. “Nicki, you’re a great employee and a friend. I respect you and I want to help, but Zane is also a friend.”
She’d been afraid of this, but she’d had to try. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”
“I’ll tell you what you’re going to find out in your search, and I’ll tell you something he hasn’t told me but that I’ve experienced myself.”
Jeff rose and crossed to the window. “Zane was in the Marines. We’ve never discussed his work in detail. I don’t know where he was stationed, what he saw, what he knows. But I’ve seen the same sort of fighting. The death and suffering. It changes a man forever.”
“The dark soul of a warrior,” she murmured.
Jeff looked at her and raised his eyebrows. She shrugged.
“Ashley mentioned it once,” she said. “That there were things in your past that she could never understand. She said you wouldn’t share them with her because knowing them would fundamentally change who she is and you didn’t want to burden her with that.”
“Very true. Soldiers learn to disconnect. To focus on what needs to be done to the exclusion of everything else. In some ways, to be like a machine.”
A Little Bit Pregnant Page 17
