Long moments later, Tory sighed. “Maybe you could just stay home and be my sex slave.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Reese nuzzled Tory’s ear, grinning to herself. “But sex slaves don’t cook.”

“Is that so?” Tory questioned, turning languidly on her side. She licked a bead of sweat from Reese’s neck as she reached for her fly. “Let’s check.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

March, Provincetown, MA

“Well! Now things will get back to normal around here,” Gladys announced with a huge smile as Reese closed the office door behind her. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“Just fine,” Reese replied, blushing faintly and glancing at Nelson, who just shrugged.

“Desk duty,” Nelson grumbled. “That’s what the doctor said.”

“What, have you got my report card there or something?” Reese asked as she balanced her cap on a stack of folders that rested precariously near the edge of her desk. Ignoring his snort, she sauntered across the room to a counter along one wall that held the coffeepot. Lifting the cloudy pot, she swirled the murky contents and eyed it speculatively. “How old is this?”

Gladys pointedly turned her chair away. “Don’t look at me. I don’t drink that poison.”

“I made it just…yesterday afternoon,” Nelson admitted sheepishly. The stuff had tasted a little like battery acid that morning. Just thinking about it sent him searching in his desk drawer for his antacids.

“I think making coffee is probably considered desk duty,” Reese said with a sigh. “And for your information, the doctor said I can work as long as I don’t stress my arm.”

“And I know your doctor, and I sure as hell don’t plan to get on her bad side,” Nelson commented. He still hadn’t forgotten the one time Tory had threatened him with bodily harm, and he’d known then that she’d not only meant it, she was capable of doing it. “Three weeks is awfully fast to come back to work.”

Especially after being flat on your back and scaring the bejesus out of everyone. He still didn’t like to think about it. The only good thing to come out of the whole deal was that Bri seemed to be speaking to him again. At least a little.

“Three weeks is an awfully long time to be sitting around the house going crazy, too,” Reese grumbled.

She filled the paper filter with coffee, settled it into the plastic chamber, and slid it home. After punching the on button, she turned and gave the room a contented once over. Nothing had changed, except the pile of paperwork on her desk looked like it had gone through several generations of reproduction while she’d been gone. “And if we don’t get the hiring done and all the paperwork in order before the end of this month, we’re going to be behind for the rest of the summer.”

Nelson chewed the chalky tablet absently, fingering a dog-eared piece of paper as he read it for at least the tenth time. Then, without comment, he passed it from his desk to Reese’s. “That’s the first order of business. What you decide to do about it is up to you.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously as she settled behind her desk. The chair creaked in its familiar fashion as her body settled into the seat.

“I’ve got to sit in on one of those damn town council meetings,” Nelson announced as he rose abruptly. In less than a minute he had fished his hat from the rack by the door, settled it on his head, and walked out through the door, leaving Reese to stare after him in surprise.

When she raised a questioning eyebrow at Gladys, the older woman merely shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t have any idea what’s going on with that man. But something is surely bothering him, and I can only think of a couple of things that might be.”

Reese nodded contemplatively and turned her attention to the document Nelson had given her. It was an official inquiry, addressed to her, that had undoubtedly been opened in her absence to be sure that some important business had not gone unattended. She skimmed it quickly and thought she understood at least one reason for Nelson’s disquiet.

Reese phoned ahead to the clinic as she drove. They still had plenty of time before their flight, but it never hurt to give Tory a little advance warning. When the phone was answered by an extremely harried sounding receptionist, she figured her lover had probably gotten backed up.

“East End Health Clinic, hold please.” A moment later, Randy returned. “How may I help you?”

“Hi Randy, it’s Reese. How’s Tory doing?”

“If she hurries, she’ll only be a little late.” He laughed distractedly. “So I would say it’s business as usual.”

“Did she have lunch?”

“I ordered it, Reese.” Randy’s tone vacillated between irritation and frustration. “I can’t make her eat it.”

Reese sighed, curbing her temper with effort. It wasn’t Randy’s fault if Tory worked too hard, and it certainly wasn’t his responsibility to see that she took a lunch break. “Do me a favor, will you? Have Sally pack it up, and I’ll see that she eats it on the plane.”

“Uh-huh…”

His voice faded away and she heard a muffled, “Excuse me…don’t let him eat that pen, please.”

“It’s important,” she said loudly enough to get his attention.

“I know, Reese,” Randy replied, affronted.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m just a little…”

“Never mind. We love her, too. Look, I’m up to my behind here…”

“Right. Thanks again. I’ll wait outside.”

At only a few moments past their appointed rendezvous time, Tory exited through the front door of her one story medical office building and hurried across the parking lot to Reese’s Blazer. She carried her briefcase in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“You can’t harass my staff in the middle of office hours, Sheriff,” Tory advised threateningly as she slid into the front seat.

“Says who? I’m the law around here.”

Tory leaned over and kissed Reese on the mouth, then glanced pointedly at Reese’s right arm and frowned. “You’re not supposed to be driving.”

“Number one, Nelson is still in a meeting. Number two, I’m fine.” To prove her point, Reese keyed the ignition and headed the SUV toward the street.

“How are you feeling, really? And I don’t want a two word answer.”

Reese grinned. “Being pregnant makes you cranky.”

“You haven’t seen cranky yet, sweetheart. Now let’s have a progress report.”

“No swelling, no numbness, and… just a little stiff and sore.”

“Good.” Tory leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes.

“You okay?” Reese asked, glancing over in concern.

Tory rested her left hand on Reese’s thigh and patted her gently. “It was hectic this morning, that’s all.”

“Do you have your lunch?”

Smiling, Tory turned her head and opened her eyes. “Yes, I do. As per your instructions. Whatever it is you do to Randy, you make him nervous. There was no way he was letting me out of the building without it. I was afraid he was going to do a full body search.”

Reese grinned. “If he tries that, I’ll really make him nervous.”

“Are you okay about this afternoon?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” Reese asked quickly. Routine. You said it would just be routine.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Forty-five minutes later, Reese was nervous. “Tell me again what this is going to show.”

They were seated on facing chairs in one corner of Wendy Deutsch’s waiting room. There were two other couples in the room, the female members of each pair conspicuously pregnant. Tory rested her hand on Reese’s knee. The thick khaki fabric of her uniform pants was as reassuringly solid as Reese herself. “It will give Wendy, and us, some information about the baby. How it’s developing. If we didn’t know exactly when the date of conception was, it would help determine fetal age, too.”

Reese cleared her throat, ignoring the faint churning in her stomach. “So it’s routine.”

“Almost eighty percent of pregnant women have an ultrasound done at some point during their pregnancy,” Tory assured her. “And for high-ri…for women over thirty-five, it’s absolutely standard.”

High risk. She doesn’t think I know? Reese covered Tory’s hand with hers and squeezed gently. “And we’ll be able to see its…parts?”

“What parts would you be referring to?” Tory asked with a laugh. “Besides, I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Reese grumbled in mock indignation. “The head and the heart and the spine. Those parts.”

“Very good, Sheriff. Yes, at eleven weeks we can see the heart beat and with a good image, we can tell if the neural crest elements…the brain and spinal cord…are developing normally.”

God, what if… But that was like wondering what an upcoming battle would be like. What it might be like to be shot or killed. Pointless musings about an eventuality that might never arise. Reese straightened her shoulders, and, with the long-ingrained gesture, her nervousness disappeared. “Will you be able to tell its sex, if you see it?”

“Well, if I see it, I’ll know. But not seeing a penis doesn’t mean it’s not a boy. It just means it doesn’t show.”

“But I won’t be able to tell,” Reese pointed out in a rare show of pique. “I’ve seen those pictures in your books. It looks like bunch of blanks in a snowstorm.”

“I’ll make sure you see, if you want to.”

“If you know, I want to know.”

“Deal.” Tory extended her hand to seal the bargain.

Reese smiled and took Tory’s hand, but she didn’t shake it. She folded it between both of hers and leaned forward to murmur, “I love you.”

“I lo…”

“You two all set?” Wendy’s nurse asked as she approached with a chart in one hand.

“Yes,” they both said in unison.

Forty minutes later, Tory was dressed again, and she and Reese waited in one of the consultation rooms for Wendy to return with the printouts of the ultrasound examination.