The Captain's Baby Bargain

He sat back, studying her with the beginning of a frown. “You look a little wiped, too. Still gorgeous, of course, but tired. Maybe you should see a doc.”

“Nah.” She forced a smile. “It’s just the spill. It had me going day and night there for a while. I’ll be fine now that we’ve got a handle on it.”

* * *

Except she couldn’t seem to reclaim her usual levels of energy and enthusiasm. Even Mike Gentry commented on it when he and Swish drove out to check on the removal of the last of the booms the following week. May had melted into a June that was as hot as only Arizona could bake it. The lake surface was diamond-bright, the fumes that had formerly hovered above it gone, thank God.

“Breathing through a respirator would’ve been torture in this heat,” she remarked, leaning a hip against Mike’s vehicle.

“It’s pretty well torture anytime.” The bio-environmental engineer slanted her a quick look. “You okay, Captain? You look tired.”

“You’re the second person who’s told me that.” She made a face and tucked a loose strand of hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck. “I’d better start taking vitamins or gulping down some Power Red.”

“You might want to have the doc run a few tests,” Mike commented. “You may have sucked in some fumes.”

She hadn’t exhibited any of the classic symptoms, like irritation of the eyes or nose, coughing or blood in her sputum. But she couldn’t deny feeling a little out of breath at times. Especially in this heat. And she was too smart to brush off the possibility that she had sucked in some toxic fumes. Back at the office, she made an appointment with her primary care manager at the base hospital.

* * *

When she walked up to the entrance of 56th Medical Group’s sand-colored two-story facility the following morning, the sun burned in another blistering blue sky. The fat, prickly pear cactus that stood sentinel beside the hospital’s front door was taking the heat better than Swish was.

“I don’t understand it,” she told Dr. Bhutti. “I pulled two deployments to Iraq, one to Afghanistan. The heat didn’t bother me half as much at either place.”

The dark-eyed physician looped her stethoscope around her neck. She and Swish had formed a tight bond at their first meeting, having both served in combat zones.

“Are you hydrating adequately?”

“Forty-eight to sixty-four ounces every day, although lately I seem to be more thirsty than usual.”

“Alcohol intake?”

“Minimal. I haven’t even felt like a beer after work.”

“How much time do you spend in the sun?”

“Three or four hours a day when we have construction or environmental projects underway. Other times, not so much.”

“Any chance you could be pregnant? A woman’s basal temperature elevates during pregnancy, which makes her more prone to dehydration, heat exhaustion and heat cramps.”

“No, I...”

Swish stopped, her breath blocking her throat. An image of Gabe digging a crumpled foil package out of his wallet leaped into her head. How long did he say he’d been carrying the damned thing around? A year? And she’d been so tickled by the fact he hadn’t used it with Miss Priss.

“I guess I could be.”

The doc rolled back her stool. “Well, we’ll know soon enough. I’ll write an order for a lab test. You may want to cut back on your exposure to the heat until we get the results. And keep drinking plenty of water.”

Shock eddied into the first wavelets of panic. “Can’t I pee on a stick or something? Find out now?”

“Hang loose. I’ll get a kit.”

Swish edged off the exam table, her boots thudding on the floor. Too agitated to sit, she paced the tiny room. She couldn’t be pregnant. The odds couldn’t be that stacked against her and Gabe!

A chance meeting at a traffic light. One hot and heavy session between the sheets. Okay, two. Three? No, just two. She’d climaxed first. She was sure she had. Then she’d straddled Gabe’s hips and pumped him for all she was worth.