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“Should you check to see if Zelda’s okay? Maybe give her a call?” Skye asked, picking up the pile of folders and carrying them back out to the hallway bench so she wouldn’t forget them in the morning.

Once again, Wally followed Skye, and after she’d put down the files, he gave her a light kiss on her lips. “I love how you worry about everyone, but Martinez has to learn these things on her own.”

“You’re right. I know that. I wouldn’t swoop in to rescue one of my students. Well, yes I would, but I know I shouldn’t.” Feeling oddly self-conscious, she eased out of
Wally’s reach and said, “It must be the hormones talking, or I’m becoming my mother.” She smiled up at him. “Pray for the former.”

The puzzled expression on his handsome face was replaced with a grin and he said, “Speaking of hormones, how are you feeling?”

“As usual, once ten a.m. comes and goes, I’m fine.” Skye shrugged. “I sure hope the morning sickness doesn’t last throughout the whole pregnancy. If it does, I’m never doing this again.”

“I’m happy with once.” He chuckled. “Or ten times. However many kids you want.” Wally put down his beer bottle and unbuckled his leather utility belt, placing it next to the radio and Skye’s duffel. Next he loosened his collar and took off his tie.

“That’s good.” Skye had no idea how many children she wanted. She’d see how they did with this one before she decided. An only child might be lonely, but there were always cousins. Vince and Loretta had already provided one of those. “Are you planning to work out before dinner?”

“If you’re not too hungry.” He put an arm around her, gave her a hug, then started to free her curls from the French braid she’d put her hair in after her shower. He liked it loose and was forever undoing it from Skye’s preferred ponytail or bun. “Sitting behind a desk or in a patrol car all day doesn’t do much to keep me in shape, and as an older dad, I need to be in tip-top form.”

Wally had eight years on Skye, a fact May had held against him when he’d first started pursuing her daughter. He was also divorced, which had been another mark in her negative column, at least until he’d gotten an annulment. Now that he and Skye were married, May had finally come around, and she was firmly on Team Wally.

“Speaking of exercise,” Skye said as Wally continued to unbraid her hair and massage her scalp. “You won’t believe what happened to me this morning after my swim.”

Wally had finished freeing Skye’s hair and started to
rub her shoulders, but he stopped and said, “What? Another run-in with Homer?”

“Not then.” Skye grimaced. “That came later, after the Trixie part.”

“Sounds like you had quite a day.” Wally turned his attention to kneading her neck.

“I did.” Skye relaxed under Wally’s ministrations. “Oh, that feels good.”

“How about this?” Wally bent his head to nibble at her earlobe.

“Oh. Yeah.” Skye enjoyed the dizzying current racing through her.

Wally’s lips seared a path down her throat as he peeled off her T-shirt.

She felt as if she were floating, and for several long moments she mindlessly enjoyed the sensation of her husband’s mouth and hands exploring her body. Now that they were married, being with Wally felt different, felt better. Possibly, it was being able to make love without the Catholic guilt of premarital sex or the need to go to confession afterward.

Finally, Skye took Wally’s hand and led him upstairs to their bedroom. No need to make out in the drafty foyer when they had a king-size four-poster at their disposal.

Once they had shed their clothes, Wally stretched out on the bed, drawing Skye on top of him. She nuzzled his chest, then raised her head so she could look into her new husband’s eyes as she ran her fingers through the pearl-gray strands at his temples. She liked the way the silver emphasized the midnight blackness of the rest of his hair.

Tracing the smooth olive skin that stretched over his high cheekbones, Skye purred her pleasure. He was such a gorgeous man. And he was all hers.

With her caresses, Wally’s brown eyes went from the color of milk chocolate to dark. Finally, he captured her right hand and brought it to his lips, kissing and nibbling his way to her wrist.

She shivered as he nuzzled the sensitive skin there.
She responded by kneading the muscles of his broad shoulders while kissing the strong column of his throat. Wally growled and reversed their positions so that she was lying on the mattress. After that Skye lost track of time.

An hour or so later, while Wally and Skye lay cuddling under the sheet, he asked, “So what happened to you at the pool this morning?” After she described her altercation with Blair, Wally said, “Maybe you should just skip your swim for a while.”

“Why should I?” Skye got up and started to get dressed again. “From now on, I’ll make sure to check the schedule, and there shouldn’t be any more problems with her.”

“Just be careful.” Wally got up from the bed, took Skye’s chin in his hand, and tilted her face upward. “She sounds a little crazy, and that can be dangerous.”

“Trust me.” Skye made a face. “As a psychologist, I know that.”

“So you’ll avoid her?” Wally headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“I promise.” Skye waited for the water to warm up, then joined him underneath the spray. “I’ll run the other way if I see Blair Hucksford anywhere near the pool.”

“Excellent plan.” Wally smiled, slid his hand down her hip, and proceeded to show her how good girls were rewarded.

CHAPTER 6

AWHFY—Are We Having Fun Yet?

S
eriously?
Again?
Skye lay completely still, staring up at the ceiling. When she’d first opened her eyes, she’d made the colossal mistake of turning her head too quickly to check the time on the alarm clock. She’d immediately felt as if she’d just taken a roller-coaster ride after eating a really greasy corn dog.

As she fought to control the queasiness, she ran her schedule through her head. She was supposed to be at the junior high Tuesday mornings, then the high school in the afternoon. And to top it off, she had PPS meetings at both schools. No way could she call in sick.

Just after midnight, Skye had been jerked from a deep sleep by the thunder and lightning of a severe storm passing through the area. It had taken her forever to doze off again, and she’d hoped to finally be able to snooze at least until her alarm sounded, but once again, she’d woken up before dawn. It was barely five o’clock and still pitch-black in their bedroom. The sun wouldn’t rise for another ninety minutes, and both she and Wally could sleep for at least one more hour. Well, to be perfectly accurate, he clearly could continue to spend time in slumberland. She,
on the other hand, although so tired she could cry, couldn’t fall back asleep.

Suddenly, she was burning up. Trying to cool off, she carefully threw back the covers. A few seconds later, she was freezing. In an attempt to avoid another wave of nausea, she tried to grab the blanket without moving her head. Nope. She couldn’t reach it. As she stretched her fingers toward the elusive quilt, a sharp pain shot up her spine. She whimpered.
Okay.
This was officially not fun.

“Are you all right, sugar?” Wally’s warm voice tickled her ear.

“No.” Skye held back a sob, not wanting the poor guy to have to deal with a hysterical wife as soon as he opened his eyes. “I feel awful.”

“The doc said the morning sickness might peak at ten to eleven weeks, then diminish between twelve and sixteen.” He gently ran his hand over her stomach. “Seems like Junior is right on time.”

“Swell. The queasiness better improve at three months, because I don’t know if I can handle thirty more days of this.” Skye made an effort not to whine, but she didn’t succeed. “And now my back hurts.”

“Turn over and I’ll give you a massage.” Wally nudged her, and Skye stiffened.

“I can’t move or I’ll vomit.” Skye froze until the nausea subsided, then said, “I thought this would be the happiest time in my life.” A tear ran down her cheek. “But I’m just sick of being sick. I want to be able to eat an English muffin for breakfast again and drink a cup of coffee without feeling as if I’m going to hurl.”

“It won’t be too much longer.” Wally stroked her forehead. “You can do it.”

“I’m disappointed in myself,” Skye confessed. “I thought I’d be stronger.”

“You are. You’re the toughest person I know.” Wally pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll go get you a cup of ginger tea and some crackers. You just lie here and relax.”

Wally hurried away, and Skye tried to doze. A few
seconds later her eyelids flew open.
Great!
Now she had to pee. Maybe she could hold it. She concentrated on clenching her muscles and thinking of something dry like the sun beating down on the desert sand.

Nope!
Her visualization wasn’t working. It was get up now or change the sheets later. She eased herself off the mattress and hurried to the bathroom. After using the toilet, she sank to the floor and hugged the bowl, waiting for last night’s ice cream sundae to stage a comeback.

When Wally returned, Skye said weakly, “One thing being pregnant has taught me—evidently you can keep puking long after you think you’ve finished.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’.” Wally stroked her hair. “You know I’d go through this for you if I could.”

She made a noncommittal sound, not entirely convinced her handsome husband was telling the complete truth. After she sipped her tea and nibbled on a saltine, her queasiness finally subsided enough that she was able to stand.

When she reached into her duffel for her bathing suit, Wally frowned. “I thought you were going to avoid the pool for a while.”

“I promised that I’d avoid Blair, not skip my swim.” Skye took off her nightshirt and panties. “Before I left the high school yesterday, I checked, and the area isn’t reserved this morning. Besides, the swim really helps the morning sickness.”

“Maybe I should go with you.” Wally leaned against the bathroom door, watching her. “It would be fun. Like on our honeymoon.”

“Well, technically”—Skye shimmied into her maillot—“since you aren’t an employee of the school district, you would need to get a pass from the superintendent’s office in order to use the facility.”

“It sounds as if you don’t want me there.” He narrowed his eyes.

“It’s just that if Blair does show up, she’s such a stickler for the rules, I’m afraid your presence would cause
more problems than it would solve.” Skye headed back into the bedroom to gather her outfit for the workday. She glanced at Wally, who had followed her, and added, “So it’s not that I wouldn’t love having you with me. I just want to avoid stirring up any more trouble with the woman.”

“If she’s there, do you promise not to talk to her?” Wally’s jaw clenched.

“Of course.” Skye finished packing her things. “Oh, you distracted me last night”—she wiggled her brows and gazed at the bed—“before I could tell you that we’re going to need to make an announcement about our impending happy event soon.”

“I thought we agreed to wait until a few weeks after the first trimester.”

“Unfortunately”—Skye pointed to her belly—“Juniorette is starting to show.”

“Yes, he is.” Wally beamed and touched Skye’s spandex-covered baby bump. “But you should be okay in your regular clothes.”

“Not for much longer.” Skye pulled on her sweat suit. “
She
is growing by the day.” It was too soon to know the baby’s gender, and they had been teasing each other with the possibilities.

“So, we make the announcement after Vince and Loretta’s shower on Saturday?” Wally asked. “We can phone everyone first thing Monday.”

“Yes.” Skye walked down the stairs carrying her duffel. She stopped at the hall bench to stuff the files and her purse inside before snapping the padlock, then said, “There’s a good chance Dorothy has an idea about what’s going on, and when I saw Mom at the drugstore yesterday, she said something that makes me think her pal might have shared her suspicions.” Skye paused at the front door. “Or at least gave her BFF a clue.”

“Should I talk to Dorothy?” Wally asked, then gave Skye a good-bye kiss. “Confidentiality was a part of her employment agreement.”

“Not yet.” Skye stepped out onto the porch, but turned and said, “One more thing. Dad will be by today to take a look at the Bel Air, so if it’s gone, don’t think it was stolen.” She waved and muttered as she hurried toward the garage, “Worse luck.”

It was exactly six o’clock when Skye pulled the T-bird into the high school driveway. At first she thought that, like yesterday, the lot was empty. Then she noticed a black Miata tucked near the athletic-equipment shed. It wasn’t an official parking spot, but its proximity to the gym’s emergency exit would be convenient for anyone who had a key that shut off the alarm. Besides Homer and the custodian, the only faculty members with keys were the coaches.

Shoot!
Was that Blair’s car? Skye pulled Wally’s Ford into an open slot but didn’t turn off the engine. Maybe she should just drive on over to the junior high. A wave of nausea hit her.
No.
The pool wasn’t reserved, and she needed to swim. Everyone else might be intimidated by the volleyball coach, but Skye refused to join their ranks. Besides, the Mazda could belong to Thor Goodson.

As soon as Skye unlocked the entrance and walked inside, she noticed the auxiliary lights.
Heck!
Last night’s storm must have knocked out the power again. She hoped the custodian had reported the outage to Commonwealth Edison. If it wasn’t restored before school started, classes might have to be canceled.

Luckily, she didn’t need electricity to swim. Taking her morning dip in the pool now felt like a holy quest, and she was too stubborn to turn back. Skye walked down the hallway, through the gym, and into the girls’ locker room. Just to be on the safe side, she rechecked the calendar taped to the door. The schedule hadn’t changed from when she’d looked at it yesterday afternoon. The last reservation for the pool had been for Monday evening from nine to ten.

Dropping her duffel on the bench, she stripped off her sweat suit and exited the locker room. In the near
darkness, the view of the pool area through the blue opaque safety glass wall was a little eerie. She rounded the corner and strolled over to the ladder.