Her Pregnancy Surprise

by Kim Lawrence

  She bumped into someone. To her dismay, a bucket of coins flew from his hand and spilled onto the carpet. Nickels rolled everywhere.

  “Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” she said, scrambling to pick up as many of the coins as she could. She barely glanced at the man, intent on recovering his money before other people realized what had happened and tried to scoop up some for their own use.

  “No problem,” a lazy drawl sounded above her.

  He stooped down beside her, and held out the bucket for the coins in her hands. She dumped them in and scooped up some more.

  “I’m not usually that clumsy,” she said, dropping in more coins into the plastic container. He also skimmed a handful from the carpet. Several other players stopped to help.

  “That looks about right,” he said a moment later and stood. She saw his hand and took it for assistance rising.

  Then she looked at him and almost caught her breath. Wow, she thought, glad to know her hormones hadn’t permanently atrophied over the last nineteen years. She could definitely recognize a hunk when she saw one. And respond. Her heart skipped a beat then settled merrily down into double time. She could feel the flush flash through her and knew she had to take a breath. But holding it seemed easier to do.

  “You look like you’re on your way somewhere,” he said, slowly releasing her hand. “All dressed up.”

  The majority of the people in the casino were wearing ski togs or casual clothes. His own dark cords and white shirt, opened at the throat, looked superbly casual. Of course, Sara thought wildly, everything about him looked superb. Oh where had he been when she’d been available?

  “I just came from a wedding,” she said.

  He quickly glanced at her left hand, then met her eyes and smiled. “Not your own, I see.”

  “No, my daughter’s.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. “You don’t look old enough to have a marriageable daughter.”

  Was he flirting with her? she wondered, struck by the notion. It had been decades since she’d flirted with anyone. Did she remember how?

  “I was a child bride,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “From Kentucky,” he nodded.

  “Kentucky?” Where had that come from?

  “Obviously you married at age twelve, and I hear hillbillies do that sometimes,” he said.

  She laughed. He was flirting. And it felt wonderful.

  “Well, I can’t admit to my age, now, can I? But my daughter is very young to be getting married.”

  “I knew it, another twelve year old,” he teased.

  “No! She’s nineteen.”

  He shifted the bucket of coins, stepped back and reached for her hand, pulling her out of the center of the aisle where they were blocking the way.

  Sara felt the jolt of his touch to her toes. She hadn’t expected that.

  His thumb brushed over her ringless fingers and then he slowly let go. “Any other kids?”

  “No, just the one.”

  “And no husband.” It was a statement. An obvious one given she wore no rings.

  “And no husband.”

  “Are you free for dinner?”

  “What?” He was asking her out? They hadn’t even introduced themselves.

  “It’s the least you could do for spilling my winnings.”

  She glanced at the bucket, it was about half full—of nickels. “You’re one of the high rollers, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Damn, you caught me out. But I promise, I can spend more than this on dinner.”

  She was tempted. Normally she wouldn’t dream of letting herself be picked up. Yet, hadn’t she just promised herself she would celebrate being on her own without the respectability and duties of a mother?

  Still, she had some sense of self-preservation.

  “I don’t know you,” she said slowly.

  “That’ll be the fun of dinner, we can discover who each other is. I don’t know you, either, but I’m willing to take a chance. It’s just dinner. Tell you what, come with me while I turn these in and then try my luck on the dime machines. We’ll talk and by dinner time you’ll know all about me.”

  “Sorry, I’m on my way to the spa.” Enticing though his offer was, the lure of the spa held sway.

  “Ah, a woman who enjoys sybaritic pleasures. A hot oil massage, right?”

  It sounded intimate coming from him.

  She nodded. If he suggested he could give her a better one, she’d turn and leave in a heartbeat.

  “Relaxing, which is probably what the mother of the bride needs. I’ll meet you here at seven. Don’t be late.”

  “I didn’t say I would have dinner with you.”

  “Have other plans?”

  Sara shook her head before she thought. “But that—”

  He placed a finger across her lips, pressing slightly. “No excuses. Meet me here at seven.”

  Sara remained in place after he left. Vanished almost. One moment his finger had her frozen in place by the tingling sensations that coursed through her, the next, he’d melted away between the rows of slots heading for the change booth. She watched him for a moment, he was taller that most of the people in the casino. But when he turned a corner formed by the bank of slots machines, he was lost from sight.

  Shaking her head as if to clear her brain, she continued to the elevators, watching carefully lest she bump into someone else.

  She still didn’t know his name. How could she have dinner with a total stranger?

  How could she not, given how he looked and the reaction she felt? For the first time in ages, Sara felt young and full of anticipation. He’d seemed interested in her. Maybe having dinner would be fun. At least it would be daring for her. Live a little.

  Matt Tucker walked away without looking back, much as he was tempted. Who was she? Cute as could be, and bemused by the activity in the casino, unless he missed his guess. She obviously wasn’t used to the gambling scene. Which only spoke well of her to him. He rarely indulged himself. And then only to while away the time. His cohort, Dex, was skiing. Matt had time on his hands, and didn’t mind wasting a few dollars on mindless entertainment. But not at a fast clip—hence the nickel and dime machines.

  He handed his bucket to the change woman and waited while the coin machine she dumped them into calculated how many nickels he had.

  She hadn’t looked old enough to be a mother of a bride, he thought as he waited. Did it matter? He had come to Tahoe to relax after the last trip and get in some serious skiing. Yesterday he and Dex burned up the slopes. Today he’d stayed inside to catch up on some work via the Internet. He’d been gone from the office more than two weeks and it’d be another few days before he returned. Couldn’t let too much work pile up.

  Would she join him for dinner? She had said she was unattached, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t seeing someone, or had a significant other in the wings.

  He caught himself when he turned around, trying to see over the crowd. She was just a woman he’d met. Nothing special. So what if her dark blue eyes made him think of the Aegean sea after a storm, or her peaches and cream complexion reminded him of an Irish colleen. Her dress had been flowing, enveloping a figure he could dream about. He liked her laugh, her sparkling eyes. Everything.

  He reached for the bills the change woman handed him and stepped aside, thrusting them into his pocket. An evening shared with a pretty woman sure beat listening to Dex talk about how good the ski runs were today. He didn’t need an update, he’d be out on them himself again tomorrow.

  Did she ski?

  Did a mother with a kid indulge in sports like that?

  He had never dated a mother before. He didn’t interact well with kids, and he definitely wasn’t interested in being tied down by some woman who wanted a picket fence and a dog.

  Not that he’d class her in that role—especially now that her child was grown and gone. It had to make her older than she looked, anyone could do the math, and their joking aside, he did not believ
e she had married at age twelve.

  Not that age mattered. He would enjoy the evening, no ties implied. It was only dinner.

  He headed for the dime slots. Another few hours of mindless entertainment, and he’d see if his mysterious lady would show.

  As the afternoon continued, Sara forgot her worry about Amber and Jimmy, all she could think about was the stranger in the casino. He’d been so good looking, tall, with dark hair a shade longer than the accountants she worked with wore theirs. His body was trim and fit, with a hint of muscles she wasn’t used to. He seemed relaxed, yet there was a certain air of authority surrounding him.

  And he sure had more than his share of sex appeal. That alone put him way out of her league. She had rarely dated over the years. Her flirting skills were nonexistent. And she still harbored the uncertainty around men that had marked her when Bill had taken off after Amber’s birth. They’d been high school sweethearts, sure they were destined to be together forever even over the objections of their parents.

  It had been a case where her parents had known best. They’d been furious with her and told her she’d made her bed, she was on her own. That had been before Amber. Even her birth had not softened their stance. Consequently they’d missed out on all her childhood.

  Five years ago, Sara had learned they moved to a retirement community in Arizona. She hadn’t had any contact with them in almost twenty years. Loving her daughter as she did, she could never understand her parents’ position. She’d do anything for Amber, even if she made a mistake along the way. Wasn’t that what families were for—to support each other when hard times came? To share in the good times and love each other no matter what?

  Gradually Sara gave into the pleasurable sensations of the massage. The darkened room and soft music conspired to relax. The warm oil and soothing strokes of the masseuse were heavenly. She enjoyed the sybaritic delights. If she could have afforded it, she’d do this all the time. What would her mysterious man say to that?

  By the time six-thirty rolled around, Sara was in a state. She didn’t know whether to go to dinner with a stranger or not. How safe was that? On the other hand, if they ate in the hotel, how dangerous could it be? She wouldn’t get in a car with someone she didn’t know. She wouldn’t go anywhere she didn’t know. They’d have dinner, chat a while, and that would be that.

  It beat staying in her room and ordering room service.

  Especially after getting a complete makeover after her massage.

  She lifted the flirty sea-green dress from the bed. It would be a shame to waste it. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt like someone else. Someone full of life and anticipation. She could wear this nothing of a dress, the super high heels she bought, and flirt like crazy. Then come back safely to her room and dream about a fabulous evening like none she’d ever had.

  She’d do it.

  Promptly at seven, she stepped from the elevator, feeling as exposed as if she were wearing a bikini. The sales woman at the boutique had assured her she looked terrific in the dress, but it clung like a second skin and didn’t even reach her knees. The new, shorter hair felt as if she’d been scalped. She suspected the sultry look she’d tried for with the new makeup probably looked silly.

  Before she could dash back into the elevator, however, he appeared looking as sexy as she remembered. Now he wore a dark suit, pristine-white shirt and dark tie. His eyes captured hers as he sauntered across the expanse, letting her know by his quick glance, that encompassed everything from the new hair style to the sexy heels, that he liked what he saw.

  “Matthew Tucker,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Sara Simpson,” she replied, taking his hand. Instead of shaking it, he drew her closer, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow when he turned. He headed toward the bank of elevators that serviced the rooftop restaurant.

  “I made reservations at the Starlight Room,” he said. “Dinner and dancing, sound all right?”

  “It sounds perfect.”

  All her worries fled. He wasn’t trying to whisk her away somewhere. They would stay right in the hotel and if things got awkward, she could walk back to her room. But if the evening went well, she’d have a wonderful start on her new life.

  “So tell me all about Sara Simpson,” Matt invited when they were seated beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. It was pitch dark outside, with only the lights from town and scattered homes on the shore offering any break to the stygian night. A cloud cover had drifted in, blotting out the stars. The windows reflected the soft lights of the restaurant.

  A combo playing nearby provided excellent background music, and an opportunity to dance.

  Sara looked at him, wondering what about her boring life would appeal to such a fascinating man. A look at his expensive clothes convinced her he would know nothing about struggling to earn a living, working her way through college while raising a child. A single man in his early thirties would know nothing about the turmoil at home when said child was a teen and angry she never met her father. Or the difficulties a woman had competing with the old boys network at work. Her life now suited her, but to tell someone else how she spent it sounded boring.

  What she wanted was to have Matt consider her exciting and daring. A woman of the world, totally at ease with going out to dinner with a stranger. She wanted to forget she was a mom and have him see her as a woman of mystery. Someone he’d be glad he’d coerced into having dinner with him.

  “The brief version?” she asked, stalling as she frantically tried to come up with something exciting.

  “We’ve got all evening, why be brief?”

  She leaned closer. “All right, but you have to be discreet.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How discreet?”

  “I don’t want my cover blown.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “You have my promise.”

  “I am a kind of detective, ferreting out facts people often want secreted down to the tiniest detail. Depending on the consequence, I expose them. Making them come clean on all fronts.”

  He looked intrigued. Sara sat back, satisfied. She wasn’t just some boring accountant who would make his eyes glaze over with talk of debits and credits. Could she expand her mysterious occupation through dinner? She’d never tried it before, but the challenge was proving to be fun. The real key would be to tell only the truth, while giving a different impression.

  “That’s the short version, I suspect,” he said.

  She nodded. “So tell me about you.”

  “Maybe I’m one of the people who assists those who want to guard their information,” he said, his eyes holding hers.

  “What?”

  “Security. Boring, I know, but there it is. My company designs and implements security features for businesses, from basic burglar alarms, to sophisticated fire walls in mainframe computers. I’m in the computer division.”

  “You work with computers?” She couldn’t believe it. He looked tan, fit, athletic. How could he be stuck behind a computer all day?

  “Among other aspects of the firm. Actually I’m one of the partners. Computers are my speciality. Disappointed?”

  Oh, no. He thought she was some super detective with a glamorous life and his would disappoint her. That’s why she shouldn’t tell tall tales.

  “Not at all. I find computers fascinating.” And frustrating if they didn’t work the way they were supposed to. She was never able to troubleshoot problems herself, she always had to call the tech in. “Do you work here at Lake Tahoe?” she asked.

  “No. Headquarters are in San Francisco. But I travel a lot. I’m here on a break. Just got back from Moscow.”

  “Moscow?” Her eyes widened.

  “Ever been there?”

  She shook her head.

  “Your work is local, then?” he asked.

  “San Francisco.”

  “Ah.”

  “What were you doing in Moscow?” She tucked away the kno
wledge he was also from San Francisco. Would they ever run into each other once they returned home? Would he ask her out again?

  “Helping a firm set up Internet security, so pirates and hackers don’t get in. Before that I was in Brussels working on some of the mainframes for the EU.”

  “And before that?” She was fascinated. Imagine having a job that took him all over the world. That’s what she wanted. A chance to travel and see other cultures, visit historic sites, learn to eat Italian food properly in Italy, or see a bullfight in Spain.

  “Hong Kong. Crowded as all get out, but exciting.”

  Sara could only stare at him. He spoke about traveling as casually as she talked about going to the supermarket. “You’ve been all over the world?”

  He nodded.

  The waiter temporarily halted their conversation as he served dinner, asking if they needed anything else. Once he departed, Sara looked at Matt.

  “I would love to travel. In fact, I was just thinking earlier with Amber married, I’m free for the first time in years. No ties to keep me home. I can travel whenever I want. Splurge and indulge my desires.”

  “Are those the only desires you wish to indulge?” he asked, softly.

  Heat washed through her at the look in his eyes. She dropped her gaze to her meal and didn’t answer. But a mental picture of Matt and her locked in a heated embrace immediately came to mind. Thank God he couldn’t read her mind.

  “Hey, buddy. I wondered where you disappeared to.” A tall man with shaggy blond hair stopped by the table, obviously addressing Matt, but with his eyes on Sara. “I was available for dinner, but you didn’t invite me,” he said.

  “As you can see, I had other plans,” Matt said.

  “And you’re not sharing?”

  “No.”

  Sara glanced at Matt who was looking at her with amusement. He inclined his head slightly. “I might make an introduction if you leave immediately,” he said to his friend.

  “Or I could join you,” he suggested, making no move to pull out one of the empty chairs at the table.