A Little Bit Pregnant

“It doesn’t bother Brad,” he said.

“Boyd. And you’re right. It doesn’t. But he’s into substance.”

“I’m not and it doesn’t bother me.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because we’re friends. You wouldn’t date a woman in a wheelchair.”

He considered the statement. “I would if she had really big breasts.”

Nicki shook her head. “I don’t know if I should thank you or stab you with my knife.”

“Technically you work for me. If you tried to stab me it would reflect poorly on your next evaluation.”

“You drive me crazy.”

He grinned. “I know. Isn’t it great?”

When they’d finished lunch and she’d badgered him into paying, he stood and she pushed back from the table. Zane paused to watch the men in the restaurant.

None of them had noticed the sleek wheelchair. Nicki had hers specially made by a guy in California. It was lightweight, made to fit her slender body and more low-profile than most.

The college guys exchanged a look of surprise, shrugged and continued to stare. One of the businessmen turned away, but the other looked as if his eyes were about to fall out. Just as he’d thought. Most of them didn’t care.

He followed her into the parking lot. She hit the remote on her key chain, which activated the special motor installed in back. The rear doors of the van opened and a ramp lowered. Nicki rolled onto it and rose to level with the back of the vehicle. While he slid into the passenger side, she secured the back doors and moved in behind the steering wheel. Special grooves locked her chair into place and a custom-built harness acted as a seat belt. She started the engine.

“They were still looking,” he said conversationally.

“I’m not,” she told him.

“Brad isn’t all that.”

She sighed. “Boyd, Zane. His name is Boyd. You’ll be meeting him in a couple of nights at the Morgans’ party. Please try to remember his name by then.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Who are you bringing? Miss Apple Festival?”

He shrugged. Currently he was between women. Oddly enough, he was in no hurry to find a new one, either. He glanced at Nicki. The two of them had never been uninvolved at the same time. Not that he would ask her out if they were. Nicki was…

He glanced out the window. Nicki was special. She mattered to him and he made it a rule to never get involved with anyone fitting that description. Not again.

Chapter Two

“So the guy says, ‘It’s only a parrot.’” Rob, one of the burly bodyguards employed by the company laughed as he finished telling his joke.

Nicki rolled her eyes and smiled. Rob loved telling jokes nearly as much as he loved puns. At times conversations with him were physically painful as he went from pun to pun.

“You’re not sweating, Nicki,” Ted called. “I want to see you sweat.”

“Bite me,” Nicki yelled back as she picked up the pace on the recumbent bike. Her thigh muscles ached, but in a good way. As for sweat, there was a river of it pouring down her back.

She hated aerobics. Oh sure, they were good for her heart and probably added years to her life, but she loathed them with a cheerful intensity that never faded. Unlike Zane, who thought all forms of physical activity were pure play.

Speaking of which, he chose that moment to stroll into the company gym. The bodyguards called out a greeting. Nicki ignored him because looking at him would spike her blood pressure and set off alarms.

But as he approached, she couldn’t resist a quick peek at his long bare legs, the loose gym shorts and cutoff T-shirt that exposed way too much flat, sculpted tummy. The man had a serious body.

She would have accepted that with good grace if she’d been able to study it impersonally. As if he were nothing more than fine art. Very fine art. But what she resented most was her visceral reaction to that A+ set of abs. She wanted. Yup, physical cravings set in that made the PMS need for chocolate seem wimpy by comparison.

“Hey,” he said as he slumped down into her wheelchair. “You’re not sweating.”

“That’s what I said,” Ted told him as he straightened and grabbed a towel. “The girl’s loafing.”

“The woman is busting her butt,” Nicki complained.

Zane ignored her. “I called you last night and you were out. How’s Brad?”

His hips were narrow enough to allow him to easily fit on her custom seat, but his legs were miles too long. He stretched them out in front of him and rested his heels on the hardwood floor.

“Boyd is doing great,” she said. “Thanks for asking. But I didn’t see him last night.”

“So where were you?”

“So why do you get to know?”

He grinned. “Because I’m fifteen kinds of charming and you adore me.”

He had that one nailed.

“I was at the bookstore.”

“Why not with your computer geek?”

“He’s in the middle of a big project right now.”

Zane looked anything but convinced. “Sure he is. You’re bored. Admit. You think he’s tedious.”

“I think you’re overcompensating because of personal inadequacy.”

Rob and Ted finished their workouts and left. Zane glanced at the timer on her bike’s program. “Your mom sent me cookies.”

“She mentioned she was going to.”

Nicki found a certain amount of irony in the fact that her parents were nearly as taken with Zane as she was. Maybe it was something genetic. A weakness in the Beauman family tree.

“So when are they coming up for a visit?” he asked.

“Probably not until the holidays. They’re taking off for a cruise in Australia and New Zealand at the end of the month. It’s fall here, but spring down under.”

“You need to have me over for dinner while they’re here. I like your folks.”

“Me, too.”

He grinned.

What the man could do to her with just a smile.

“Is their remodeling finished?” he asked.

“Just about. Mom promised the guest room would be done in time for my next visit.”

Nicki had been a change-of-life baby and a surprise for a couple who had given up hope of ever having a child. As such, she’d been doted on from birth. Despite their devotion, they’d been ready to retire as she finished college. They’d left Seattle for the sunny warmth of Tucson, which gave her a good excuse to flee the incessant rain every winter.

“Maybe I’ll swing down and visit them sometime,” he said.

“They’d like that.”

Her mother especially. While Muriel Beauman would have adored Zane for his own sake, she had a special place in her heart for him because of how he treated her daughter. When her parents had met Zane, her mother had made it a point to tell Nicki that he didn’t seem to notice she was in a wheelchair.

Nicki knew that was true. Zane’s acceptance was complete. Sometimes she consoled herself that his lack of interest in her had nothing to do with her problems with her legs. Nope, it was her pesky brain getting in the way.

The timer on her bike beeped. Nicki slowed, then stopped and wiped the sweat from her face. Her muscles were comfortably tired, but her workout was just beginning.

Still in the wheelchair, Zane moved next to the bike. “Climb on,” he said as he wrapped one arm around her waist.

She relaxed as he pulled her onto his lap and “drove” her to the weight machines clustered at the far end of the room. This was a familiar part of their routine—one she tried not to get excited about. Yeah, he had his arm around her. Yeah, it felt good. So what?

She slid from Zane’s lap to the bench. He locked the wheelchair in place and rose.

While she hooked up the elaborate pulley system that allowed her to strengthen her leg muscles without putting too much weight on them, he moved to the treadmill where he punched in his favorite program. The machine started at a warm-up pace that would send most people into cardiac arrest. Zane wouldn’t even begin breathing hard until mile three.

She might hate exercise, Nicki thought as she began the leg lifts designed by a physical therapist to keep her lower body toned and flexible, but there were compensations. One was a boss who’d had no problem adding a couple of pieces of equipment to the company gym so she could work out there as well. The other was watching Zane move.

Mirrors covered all four walls so wherever she turned, she saw front and back views of the man. The machine picked up the pace and he eased from a jog into a full-out run. Long, lean muscles bunched and released with nearly balletlike grace. Nicki mentally smacked herself upside the head and returned her attention to her own workout.

“Jeff and I are having a planning meeting later today,” Zane called to her. “Any preferences?”

Employees were often allowed to request assignments so those with families could stay close to home and those without could indulge their wanderlust.

“I’d like to winter in Hawaii,” Nicki told him.

He grinned. “I don’t think we have any clients there.”

“Then we should get some. Maybe a pro football player or a surfing champion.”

“Maybe a suntan lotion model.”

Nicki sniffed. “Not at all my style.”

She released the pulleys and turned so her legs hung off the bench. When she was in position, she began to work her upper body.

Strong muscles were essential for a number of reasons. Not only did they help her maneuver and stay fast in her chair, but well-toned arms burned more calories. She might be able to keep in shape with her workouts, but she didn’t have the ability to walk from place to place during the day. If she wasn’t careful to balance her exercise with her lifestyle, she could pile on five pounds in the time it took most people to sneeze. On her smallish frame, that was hardly attractive. So she did the exercise thing and told herself it was like taking a really sweaty vitamin.

Zane finished his five-mile run and stepped off the treadmill. As she shifted from the bench to her wheelchair, he nodded to the free weights and barbells.

“Want me to spot you on the chest press?” he asked.

Nicki eyed the equipment in question. Did she want to lay on a bench, Zane poised at her head, ready to rescue her if she got into trouble as she raised and lowered a too-heavy weight? The view was spectacular—she could see all of him from knee to chin—but it came at a price. Namely unfulfilled fantasies.

“I’ll pass,” she said as she headed for the women’s locker room and the showers. “But thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turned to the equipment and began his own weight training. Nicki didn’t want to stick around. She’d seen the show countless times. If only she could be like Zane, she thought as she rolled to her locker. If only she could be happy with them just being friends and never consider any other possibilities. If only he didn’t bother her so much.

She needed a plan. Or a program. Or an anti-Zane patch. Barring that, she had to find a way to clear her head. Boyd might not be the love of her life, but what if the next guy was? Would she miss her opportunity because she was hung up on Zane? Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?

She was going to have to find a way to lick this problem once and for all, even if it meant something as drastic as finding a new job.

“This client is interesting,” Jeff said as he tossed Zane a folder.

Zane picked it up and flipped through the pages. “An Italian banker?” He grinned. “Okay. I’ll take that one.”

Jeff didn’t look surprised. “You think you’re going to get a trip to Italy out of this.”

“Sure.”

Jeff shook his head and passed over two more folders. “Middle Eastern oil executives.”

“A whole lot less fun,” Zane muttered as he looked through their files. “Definitely more work.”

Although he wouldn’t mind a good distraction—maybe a kidnapping or hostage situation. He felt restless and on edge and he couldn’t say why.

“Westron has had a couple of nasty letters delivered to his house,” Jeff said. “He annoyed the wrong group of people.”

“Death threats?” Zane asked.

“Daily. He’s working with local police, but he wants us to come up with a plan to protect the family he has here in the States.”

Zane made a few notes in the margin. When the company first started, he and Jeff had shared the work equally. In the past couple of years Jeff had taken over more administrative and sales duties, leaving much of the field work to Zane. The switch had come about because of Jeff’s marriage to a single mom and the subsequent birth of his son. Little Michael was nearly eighteen months old.

“How’s Ashley?” he asked.

Jeff’s expression softened as he smiled. “Great. She’s still getting morning sickness, but if this pregnancy is like the last one, it should pass in a few more weeks.”

He continued talking, but Zane found himself unable to listen. Instead he fought against ghosts from the past, and the pain they brought with him.

He was happy for his friend, he told himself. As for his own life, it had turned out the way it had and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Once he’d thought he could have a normal life, then he’d found out he was wrong. End of story.

He returned his attention to his partner’s conversation and made notes on the various files. When they were finished, he headed for Nicki’s office and found her on the phone.

He leaned against the door frame and waited as she chewed out whoever had annoyed her. Watching Nicki mad was a kick.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, using both hands to gesture, even though the person on the other end of her headset couldn’t see. “If I’d wanted a cheap piece of crap, that’s what I would have ordered. Instead I ordered an expensive transmitter that was supposed to have a two-mile radius. The one I received has a radius of about three hundred yards. Now I’m not a math person, but even I can figure out that’s not close to one mile let alone two. So what are you going to do about this?”

She listened, sighed impatiently, then rolled her eyes. Her frustration made him grin. Nicki had a lot of great qualities but suffering fools gladly wasn’t one of them.

He watched the fire flashing in her eyes and the way her mouth moved as she spoke. As always, he acknowledged her beauty with the same emotional attachment he had to the weather. It was a part of his world. He lived with it, prepared for it when he remembered and had absolutely no control over it. So mostly he ignored it.

“You’d better credit me the shipping cost,” she muttered. “Yeah, I know. This is your last chance. One more screwup like this and I’m taking my size-able budget elsewhere. Uh-huh.” She listened for another couple of seconds, then said goodbye and hung up.

She glanced at Zane. “He actually had the nerve to tell me to have a nice day. My day was doing great right up until I found out about the messed-up order. People can be so annoying.”

“Maybe it’s not people. Maybe it’s you.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Easy for you to say. You delegate all the annoying stuff to me.”

“One of the perks of the job.” He waved a folder. “I have some exciting news.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Sure you do.”

“Nicki. I’m not kidding. But I’m not going to tell you until I see the proper level of enthusiasm.”

She drew in a breath and clutched both hands to her chest. “Oh, Zane. Exciting news? I just can’t wait.” Her voice was a falsely high pitch that could have called dogs from three states away. “Wait. I’m all flustered. Let me sit down and recover for a second.”

She fluttered her fingers and quivered in her chair.

He chuckled, then sank into the seat by her desk. “It’s not the world that’s annoying,” he told her. “It’s you.”

“Sell it somewhere else. What have you got?”

He handed her the top folder. “New client. An Italian banker. I’m going to be talking to him about setting up a better security plan for his family.”

Nicki’s green eyes widened. “Will you be visiting him yourself?”

“I just may. And if I do, I’ll need an assistant.”

She flipped through the pages and smiled. “I love Italy. It’s so beautiful and do they know how to make wine or what? I haven’t been in years.”

“Did you go with your folks?”

“When I was in high school. Then I went with a bunch of friends while I was in college.”

“With a guy?”

She raised her eyebrows. “There might have been a man or two in the group. I simply can’t remember.”

“Liar.”

“Are you inquiring about my sex life?”

“Absolutely.”

She pretended to be shocked. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“I’m not interested in the kissing. Do it anywhere interesting?”

“I’m not into public displays of affection, thank you very much.” She closed the folder. “My big complaint is that despite promises to the contrary, not one man in Italy pinched my butt.”

He shook his head. “Did you ever think it might have something to do with you being in a wheelchair? It’s not exactly easy to pinch when the butt in question is planted on a seat. You should have worn your braces a couple of days and given the guys a chance.”

“Good point. Honestly, I never thought it would be worth the effort.”

“That’s because you haven’t had your butt pinched by a professional.”

“Are you offering?”

“It’s not my fantasy, but I could ask around if you’d like.”

Nicki pushed the folder toward him. “You are too weird for words. Yes, if asked, I will accompany you to Italy. Now get out of here. Unlike the rest of you, I have actual work that needs to be done.”

The Friday morning planning meeting lasted over two hours. As per the usual schedule, the least pressing clients were discussed first, leaving the most time for those with the largest and most imminent problems.

Oil executives stationed in the Middle East should know better than to make political statements, Nicki thought as she listened to Jeff outline the situation. There had been daily threats against George Westron and his family ever since he’d told an AP reporter that most of the area’s problems could be solved if people simply practiced Christian values.

But the man being an idiot didn’t mean he should be killed by a car bomb or that his family should suffer, either.

Jeff passed Nicki copies of the threats left on the Westron’s front porch. She scanned the block letters taken from various magazines and newspapers, then glued into words and sentences.

“Obviously there is an entire international task force working on that,” he told her. “But see what you can do.”

Nicki nodded. She wasn’t an expert, but she had contacts who were. People outside of mainstream law enforcement. Sometimes she got lucky. She also noted a list of information Jeff wanted cross-referenced.

“There are two children,” Zane said, when Jeff had finished. “Twelve and ten.”

Nicki winced. She hated when kids were in danger. “Tell me they’re not still going to school.”

He nodded. “It’s private. We have two guys with them the entire day.”

She shook her head. While she understood the need to keep kids’ lives as normal as possible, the knowledge that they were out in the open, exposed put a knot in her stomach.

Zane didn’t look any happier than she felt. He shrugged. “I sent in Mathews and Gorson.”

Some of her tension eased. Those two were great with kids and seemed to have a sixth sense about danger. Zane would have chosen them for that reason. He sweated when kids were in danger, too. Jeff worried, but he had kids of his own so she expected it. The same level of concern from Zane always left her weak in the knees…figuratively and literally.

She reminded herself she should be looking for reasons not to like Zane, not more excuses to fall harder for the guy. But it was difficult to dislike him. He was too close to perfect for her comfort.

Jeff finished up his report and asked for questions. When there weren’t any, he reminded them that there was a new batch of bodyguards starting training on Monday, so they needed to stay sharp.

Nicki knew that new recruits were often ambushed while walking through the halls of the company. Once a fake terrorism team had invaded and taken hostages. She’d been caught in a standoff for nearly a half hour, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been on her way to the bathroom in the first place. She made a mental note to be more careful about her water consumption during the next few weeks.

Brenda, Jeff’s fifty-something assistant, rose and glared at her boss. “I can’t believe you didn’t consider my application. Again.”

Zane glanced at Nicki and grinned. “Here we go,” he murmured.

Brenda’s desire to be a real live spy was an ongoing source of humor in the office.

Jeff rose and patted her on the arm. “Brenda, I can’t risk losing you. Not only would your husband kill me, but the office would fall apart. You’re too valuable for field work.”

“That’s a crock and you know it,” she said, following him from the room. “Come on, Jeff. Just give me a chance.”

Nicki watched her go. “I’m always torn,” she admitted to Zane as the rest of the staff filed out of the conference room. “On the one hand I know Jeff is right—Brenda does keep things running smoothly. But on the other hand, she should be allowed to live up to her potential.”

“She would never pass the physical.”

“Fine. Then let her take it and fail. At least she would have had the chance.”

Zane didn’t look convinced, which made Nicki suspicious. “You and Jeff are afraid she will pass and then you’d have to let her into the program. You know she’d kick butt once she was accepted.”

“You’re a troublemaker.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a rebel. Sort of like a freedom fighter for people who are being oppressed by those in power. Those who have never—”

The phone on the table buzzed. “Nicki, you have a call on line three.”

“Thank God,” Zane muttered. “I couldn’t stand another one of those speeches on the oppressed.”

“I’m not finished with you,” she said as she picked up the receiver.”

“This is Nicki,” she said, then felt her mood deflate when she heard Boyd’s voice. He wasn’t the kind of guy who checked in during the day “just because.” Which meant there was only one reason he was calling.

“I’m really sorry I can’t make it tonight,” he told her. “But with Stan quitting, the project is at risk. I don’t want it to fall behind.”

He went on about some particularly complex problem that made no sense to her after the first three words. When he paused for breath, she spoke up.

“It’s okay, Boyd. Tonight is just a party. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll call you in a few days,” he said. “After the weekend.” He seemed to realize that most couples who were dating actually spent time together on weekends and quickly added, “I have to work.”

“I guessed that. It’s fine.”

More than fine, she thought sadly as she hung up. She didn’t feel regret or sadness or anything. For the past couple of weeks she’d been telling herself it was time to end things with Boyd. Whatever potential had been there had obviously been lost. This conversation told her it was past time to make a clean break.

“That’s the thing,” Zane said as he leaned toward her. “Guys like Brad just don’t appreciate women. Computer chips and binary code are more interesting. Crazy, but true.”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t help, she opened her eyes and glared at him. “Boyd isn’t a programmer and he’s plenty interested in woman and—” She laughed. “Why on earth am I trying to convince you?”

“I have no idea. I don’t have a date, either. We can go together.”

Nicki told herself that the sudden flash of heat that zinged up her thighs was little more than the beginnings of some kind of rash. Or a food allergy. It wasn’t excitement about Zane’s offhand invitation. So he was between women. That happened all the time. Just as quickly, he would be involved again with a large-breasted, slow-witted beauty whose most challenging conversational gambit would be to discuss the various shades of teal that went with her eyes.