Susan Mallery - A Little Bit Pregnant

Zane grabbed a fresh glass of champagne from the server’s tray and handed it to Nicki. She took the offered drink.

“Hmm, why do I know this puts me over my limit?” she asked.

He winked.

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind,” he told her.

“I wouldn’t have thought you would have to resort to cheap tricks with your dates.”

“I don’t,” he said smugly. “The women I go out with fall at my feet.”

“Easier for me to do that than most, but don’t hold your breath.”

She grinned as she spoke, then sipped her drink. Zane tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

Laughter brightened her eyes. He’d always found her attractive, but dressed to kill she was stunning.

He’d seen her legs countless times—in the gym, when she wore shorts in the summer. He was used to the long, lean length of thigh and calf. He barely noticed the faint crisscrossing of scars that patterned her right leg. She kept herself in shape and he’d always been man enough to appreciate the curves.

But tonight something was different. Maybe it was the length of her skirt—the way the filmy fabric barely covered the tops of her thighs. Maybe it was the faint glow of her skin, or the fact that when he’d lifted her into the SUV his hand had cupped bare, warm flesh. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stop looking at her legs…or wanting to touch them.

He knew she could feel everything. Her being in a wheelchair wasn’t about being paralyzed. So if he stroked his fingers from ankle to knee, then knee to thigh, she would feel every millimeter of contact. And then what? Would she lean toward him, her mouth parting in welcome? Would her breathing quicken as she—

“Zane?”

Nicki’s voice called him back to the party.

He blinked and forced his mind away from her body. “What?”

“You had the oddest expression on your face. What on earth were you thinking about?”

He was saved from coming up with a lie by the arrival of their host. Al Morgan pulled a chair up next to Nicki and sat down.

“How are you doing?” the gray-haired man said as he took Nicki’s free hand in his.

She smiled. “I’m great.”

Al studied her. “We’ve been doing some work with various metal alloys. It’s all hush-hush stuff for the government, but it will have industrial applications. I was wondering—”

Nicki cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “You’re a sweetie for thinking of me, Al, but no.”

“Hear me out,” he told her. “We’re talking very strong but extremely lightweight. You’d barely know they were there.”

“Braces are still braces.”

“But you’d be walking.”

Her smile was patient. “The two-legged thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me, I’ve tried it.” She released his hand and tapped his knee. “Walking is what you know and I appreciate that you want that kind of freedom for me. But shuffling along in braces is slow and awkward.”

Al didn’t look convinced. “There are medical advances every day.”

“I agree and I have a doctor who keeps on top of that sort of thing. I trust her completely, but despite miracles, some things can’t be healed. I learned that when I broke my legs.” She smiled ruefully. “The left one was so bad, even one of the ski patrol rescue guys passed out when he saw the bones sticking out. There was no way the bones could heal correctly. Walking was still a possibility because my right leg would be okay.”

She paused. Zane knew the story, knew how she’d struggled all those years ago. She’d been fourteen when her world had crashed in on her.

“Then I got a bone infection,” she continued. “It took months to heal and when it did, the bones in my right leg had been weakened to the point where they could never support my weight.”

“With physical therapy—” Al started.

Nicki cut him off. “With physical therapy I can use braces. I can be upright and so what? It’s hard work, not to mention painful. In my chair, I’m completely mobile.”

“She’s hell on wheels,” Zane told Al. “Trust me—I’ve been run over.”

She smiled at him. “Only when you’re getting on my nerves.” She turned back to Al. “I can walk with braces and a walker, I choose not to. A wheelchair beats the step-drag thing in my book.”

Al didn’t look convinced but he nodded. “If I can change your mind,” he said.

“You can’t.”

She changed the subject to how his oldest daughter was doing at college. When Al was called away to look after his other guests, Zane touched her arm.

“Are you okay with him interfering?”

“Sure. He’s doing it because he cares about me.” She smiled. “I like that in a man.”

Zane had always admired Nicki’s courage and temperament. He found himself wanting to say that he cared, too.

“If he brings it up again, I’ll go into more detail,” she said. “Al sees me now, years after the accident. But if he’d been around when it happened, he would understand how far I’ve come.”

She sipped her champagne. “Back then I would have agreed with him. I was determined to walk again, no matter how difficult it was or how much it hurt. When my parents bought me my first wheelchair, I saw it as a defeat. No way I was going to give in. Then one day I sat in it and I was amazed at how lightweight it was and how easily I could move around. Once I figured out I could outrun anyone and be involved in sports, I never looked back.”

Typical, he thought proudly. Nicki wasn’t a quitter. “Do you still have braces?”

“Sure, but I rarely use them. A friend from college got married and I was a bridesmaid. I used the braces so I could stand up with the rest of the wedding party, but I didn’t try walking down the aisle in them. Back in high school and college I would take them to dances so I could shuffle around the floor with my date.” She grinned. “Sometimes I let the guys take them off. That always got them really excited.”

Young men unbuckling cool metal from her smooth, warm thighs? He could understand the attraction.

He pretended shock. “You let them feel you up?”

“Of course.”

“Did your mother know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Someone with your dating history is in no position to be judgmental. Besides, my prom date didn’t get much more than a quick feel. I’m guessing your prom date offered you a chance to score.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t go to my prom. I was in a high school boot camp, paying my debt to society.”

“You’re kidding? What had you done?”

He shrugged. “Got caught in stolen truck with a few dozen TVs that didn’t belong to me.”

“No way.”

“I was a wild kid.”

She leaned close. “Okay, start at the beginning and talk slowly. I want details.”

“No way.” He held up his glass. “I’d have to be a whole lot more drunk than this to spill that story.”

She raised her arm to flag a waiter. He caught her hand and pulled it down.

“I’m driving, Nicki. One’s my limit.”

“How annoying. I’m going to have to lure you to my place then, with plans to get you drunk and worm the truth out of you.”

He considered all the possibilities that went along with that and knew he should back off. Nicki was a friend—he didn’t want that to change. Still he found himself agreeing to her plan, and anticipating the event.

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