Sheri WhiteFeather - Protecting Their Baby

But it didn’t help.

She prayed this side effect would go away before too long. Supposedly it would. But she’d heard about women who suffered from morning sickness well beyond their first trimester.

Perish the thought. She would rather die.

No, she thought. Don’t think about dying. Or dolls with knives protruding from their fragile little bodies.

Oh, God. She sat up, clutched the water bottle beside her bed and took a cautious sip.

Bad move. The water hit her stomach like a roiling rock. The saltines she’d just eaten weren’t going to stay down.

Lisa dashed down the hall to the bathroom. She knelt in front of the commode and lost her cookies or crackers or whatever.

Finally, she made her way to the sink, rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. She scrubbed her face and combed her hair, too, trying to feel human again.

Upon exiting the bathroom, her breath caught. There stood Rex, wearing a lightweight T-shirt and drawstring shorts. He was also holding his shaving kit.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Great. He’d heard her vomit. She hadn’t considered her morning sickness when they’d agreed on a bathroom schedule. But she hadn’t expected them to wake up at the same exact hour, either. “It’s part of the pregnancy.”

“Does it happen every morning?”

“Pretty much. But some mornings are worse than others.”

“Is it going to happen again? Should I leave the door unlocked?”

Mortified, she blinked at him. She wasn’t going to go in there and throw up while he was in the shower. Then again, where else was she going to go? Barfing in a bucket sounded even more disgusting.

“I should be all right.” Her empty stomach seemed to be settling. Of course now she was hungry.

“Just in case, I won’t lock it.” He gestured to the door. “You can come in if you need to.”

And risk seeing him in the buff? Lisa sucked in her breath. Not that she hadn’t seen his beautifully sculpted body before.

She remembered being sprawled across his lap, watching the tight motion of his abs while he’d lifted her up and down.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, jarring her back to the present.

“I tossed and turned, but I made it through.” She wanted to move closer to him, but she curbed her desire to breathe him in. “I’ll probably take a nap later.”

“Is it your day off?”

“Yes. I have classes tomorrow tonight.”

“I’d like to go with you tomorrow. As a guest.”

“To my studio?” Why? So he could scout for suspects? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You promised to cooperate, Lisa.”

She sighed. Keeping her guard up with him was difficult. He was an aggressive investigator, but he had her best interest at heart. “Okay, but you better not freak everyone out.”

“I’m not going to mention the doll. I want to meet everyone first and get a feel for who they are.”

“I’m not going to say anything, either.” She would have to tell her parents, of course. But she didn’t want anyone at the studio to know, not until it was absolutely necessary. “Did you run some background checks last night?”

“Yes, but nothing suspicious surfaced. I’ve still got plenty of work to do, though.”

Because there were lots of people on the list she’d given him. Nervous, she adjusted the bodice of her modest nightgown. “How am I supposed to introduce you?”

“Just use my name.”

A simple way of letting everyone know that he was the daddy, she thought. The Sixkiller name had already been bandied about.

She changed the subject. “I’ll go start some breakfast. Are pancakes okay?”

“You’re going to cook for me? Hell, yes. Pancakes sound great.”

“Then I’ll see you when you’re dressed and ready.” Rather than damp and naked, she thought, as she walked away, his handsome image crowding her troubled mind.

After his shower, Rex put on a My Heroes Have Always Killed Cowboys T-shirt and a pair of button-fly jeans, then followed the enticing aroma.

He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and watched Lisa. She’d gotten dressed, as well. She looked soft and pretty in a loose cotton dress and sandals.

She turned and noticed him. She caught sight of the slogan on his shirt, too.

“Your activism is showing,” she said.

He shrugged and smiled. “I’ve got more where this came from.”

“I’ll bet you do.” She motioned to the stove top. “I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

“Looks like you’re fixing ham and eggs, too.”

“I’m famished.”

No doubt, he thought. She was eating for two. He still couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was going to have a kid.

“Do you want to eat on the porch?” she asked.

“Sure. Why not?” Since the front door was already open, he glanced in that direction. The porch was rife with potted plants, and amid the greenery was a glass-topped table. “I can put the plates out if you want.”

“Thanks. That’d be nice.” She showed him where the dishes and flatware were kept.

He scooted past her. “Are we going to sit out there and spy on your neighbors? I can change my shirt if we are. I have one that says Love thy Neighbor, but Don’t Get Caught.”

She shook her head. “Figures you’d have a shirt like that. Especially with the type of neighbors you have.”

“You mean, young and sexy and single?” Rex loved his naughty neighborhood. “What type lives around here? Old and married and crotchety?”

“Nice and normal,” she responded, tossing a dish towel at him.

He laughed and tossed it back at her. Were they flirting? Yes, he thought. And he liked it.

Soon they were seated on the porch, a hearty, home-cooked meal in front of them.

Rex decided that he could get used to this. She’d even made cappuccino from one of those commercial-grade espresso machines, decaffeinated for her and the potent stuff for him. He toasted her with his cup. “Here’s to vintage suburbia.” He glanced around at the other houses, with their colorful flowerbeds and white fences. “Are you sure your neighbors are nice and normal?”

She furrowed her brows. “Why? Do you think you should investigate them?”

“Do they know about the baby?”

“Some of them do.”

“Then, yes, I think I should check them out.”

“That list of yours keeps getting longer.” She rubbed her arms, as if to ward off a sudden chill. “Better to be safe than sorry, right? What would I do without your help? I couldn’t handle this on my own.”

Her anxious gaze met his, drawing him in, making him even more protective of her.

“I’m going to put my other cases on hold.” He needed to devote as much time as he could to this investigation.

“I dread calling my parents.” She rubbed her arms again. “They’re going to worry something fierce.”

And with good reason. Rex was worried, too. What kind of sick bastard maimed a doll and left it in a pregnant woman’s car?

“Do you think the police will uncover any evidence?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He doubted that fingerprints or DNA had been left behind. Even the knife that had been used seemed generic. It could have come from anyone’s kitchen. As for the doll itself, he suspected that tons of stores carried them.

“Maybe I should buy that other car soon.”

“The SUV?”

She nodded. “A newer car won’t be as easy to break into. And it’s safer, with air bags and all of that.”

In the silence, she cut into her pancakes. By now, the food on their plates had begun to turn cold. But he was glad that she’d resumed eating. He returned to his meal, too.

After a few more bites, she looked up at him. “Do you think I’m being naive?”