"So it's settled," Sam said, interrupting her thoughts. "We're spending the rest of the day right here, pursuing your rehabilitation."
"I really can't." Nikki sighed with regret and rolled away from him to sit up on the edge of the bed. She glanced back over her shoulder. "I promised Liz I'd take Michael for the day to give her and Bill a little time alone. I'm taking him to the zoo."
Sam thought briefly. "It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I haven't been to the zoo in a while."
"You'd go with us?" Nikki hadn't even considered the possibility that he might want to join them.
"If you have no objections."
"I don't have any objections, but I don't know how you'll feel after a day with Michael. Kids his age aren't exactly restful."
"I like kids," Sam said easily. "Mary tells me I'm her very favoritest uncle." He frowned slightly. "Of course, I've heard her tell Gage and Keefe the same thing, but I know she means it when she's talking to me."
Nikki grinned. "I'm sure she does. If you're sure you want to come with us, you're welcome."
Actually, it might be interesting to see him with Michael. Her godson had seemed to take to Sam at the wedding and Sam had been good with him, but it would be interesting to see how Sam's patience lasted over the course of an entire day. In the back of her mind, unacknowledged, was a deep curiosity to see what kind of a father Sam might make.
❧
If it was possible to judge by a day at the zoo, Sam would make a wonderful father. His patience with Michael seemed endless. He answered questions, wiped sticky hands and laughed at terrible, five-year-old jokes. But he also didn't hesitate to pull Michael up short if he threatened to get too wild. Michael might not know Sam very well but he knew the voice of authority when he heard it, and Nikki was disgusted to find him much more inclined to listen to Sam than he was to her.
"It's a manly thing," Sam told her with a grin. "You wouldn't understand."
Nikki shook her head. "I think it's just that you're bigger than I am. He probably thinks you'll squash him like a bug if he doesn't obey. You've terrorized him."
Since Michael was currently perched on Sam's shoulders, his small fingers firmly entwined in his mount's hair, the terror theory seemed a little shaky, but Nikki stuck with it, finding it more palatable than some secret man-to-man understanding.
When they reached the tiger enclosure, Michael demanded to be set down.
"I wanna see 'em up close."
Sam obediently deposited him on the ground but kept a close eye on him, suspecting that the boy's idea of "up close" might not stop at the railing. He was aware of a feeling of quiet contentment.
He'd been disappointed when Nikki had told him that she already had plans that precluded spending the day in bed. But he had to admit that he was enjoying himself. Michael was a handful, but he was a great little kid.
"You meant it when you said you liked kids, didn't you?" Nikki asked suddenly.
"What's not to like?" He reached out and caught Michael by the back of the collar before the boy could attempt to work his way through the barrier surrounding the tiger enclosure.
"How about the endless stream of questions, the demands to possess every item they see, the fact that they never stop talking?" Nikki reeled off promptly.
Sam chuckled. "I didn't say they were perfect. But I kind of like their questions. It makes you look at things in a different way. Who else but a kid would ask why polar bears have fur instead of feathers?"
Nikki laughed. "True. But you've got to admit that children aren't exactly restful creatures."
Sam kept his hand firmly on Michael's collar, but took his eyes off the boy long enough to shoot Nikki a curious look. She seemed awfully interested in his opinion of children. Was she pondering his suitability as father material? The thought was intriguing. What would it be like to have a child with Nikki?
He had a sudden image of her, her stomach rounded with his child, and felt a wave of hunger so powerful that it nearly staggered him. Good God, when had he started to think of Nikki in those terms? A few weeks ago, he would have said he didn't even like her. Now he was picturing her as the mother of his child and finding the picture startlingly right.
"I always planned on having a couple of kids," he said slowly. He glanced to make sure Michael was still fully occupied with watching the big cats. He returned his attention to Nikki. "I never told you that I was married before."
The zoo wasn't exactly the setting he'd envisioned for telling Nikki about Sara, but maybe handling it casually was better than anything he could have contrived.
She looked surprised but not particularly shocked. "I know. Your mom mentioned it. She was surprised that I didn't already know."
Sam winced. "That must have been awkward. If it had occurred to me that Mom might mention it, I would have told you myself."
Nikki shrugged. "I don't think she suspected anything out of the ordinary, if that's what you're thinking."
"It isn't. I was just thinking that it was a hell of a position to put you in—we're supposed to be madly in love and you didn't even know about Sara. What did she say?"
"Not much. Only that your wife—that Sara—died." Nikki was pleased by the even tone of her voice. They might have been discussing the weather. Certainly, no one would have guessed that there was a knot the size of a small car in her stomach.
"She had cancer," Sam said, speaking almost as if to himself. "By the time we knew she was sick, it was too late to stop it."
"I'm sorry," Nikki said sincerely. "That must have been terrible."
"I've had better years." He was looking at Michael but Nikki had the feeling he was seeing something—or someone—else.
"You must have loved her very much." As soon as the words were out, Nikki wished she could call them back. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he might say in response.
He took his time about answering, and shook himself free of memories. When he looked at her, his eyes seemed clear of shadows.
"I loved her deeply," he said simply. "When she died, I couldn't imagine ever loving anyone that much again. I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing."
Nikki struggled to conceal the effect his "words had on her. Better to know now, she told herself. Better to know before she let her heart get any more involved than it already was. But Sam wasn't done speaking.
"I'm not so sure anymore," he said slowly, his eyes searching her face. "I wonder if it can happen twice, after all."
Nikki's heart stumbled, her breath catching in her throat. Was he saying what she thought he was? That she was the reason he was changing his mind? That he might be falling in love with her? The possibility was enough to make her feel light-headed.
She didn't know whether to be relieved or sorry when Michael interrupted.
"I want to see the elephant," he announced, having seen his fill of the tigers. "Can I ride, Uncle Sam?"
Sam's eyes held Nikki's a moment longer and then he dragged his gaze to Michael's pleading face. "What do you think I am—a horse?" he complained as he swung the child up, settling him easily on his shoulders. Michael giggled happily.
"Giddyap," he cried, apparently taking to the idea of Sam as a two-legged horse.
"I had to mention it," Sam said, throwing Nikki a rueful look.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Walking beside Sam and Michael, she listened with half an ear to Michael's endless stream of commentary and questions and Sam's patient answers.
Nikki tried to sort out what had just happened. Had Sam implied that he was falling in love with her or was that wishful thinking? And how could it be wishful thinking when she didn't even know if she wanted him to be in love with her?
If she hadn't been in the middle of a busy walkway, Nikki might have been tempted to tear her hair in frustration. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. She'd had everything planned out, and falling in love with Sam—and she wasn't saying she had—wasn't part of that plan.
&nb
sp; Perhaps Sam sensed something of what she was feeling. He stopped in the middle of the crowded pathway, oblivious to the eddy they created. He reached out to catch her hand in his, and Nikki had no choice but to stop also.
"We're causing a traffic jam."
"Los Angelenos are used to traffic jams. Makes them feel at home." ,
"I'm not so sure," Nikki commented, catching the exasperated look thrown them by a mother who had to push a stroller around them. "Is there a reason we're halting traffic?"
"Yes. Avery important reason."
Nikki waited and, when he didn't continue, she looked at him, raising her brows in question. She caught just a glimpse of his smile, and then his lips covered hers in a kiss that made only marginal concessions to the fact that they were standing on a public pathway in broad daylight. When he finally lifted his head, Nikki had to set her hand against his chest for balance.
"What was that for?" she asked, blinking up at him.
"Just a little something to tide us both over until tonight."
If he'd been looking for a way to distract her, he'd certainly done a good job, she thought dazedly. The distant future didn't seem nearly so worthy of concern when the near future held so much interest.
"Are you guys gonna do mushy stuff? Can't ya wait till after I see the elephants?" Michael asked in a tone of such disgust that both his companions burst out laughing.
"We'll try to hold off until after the elephants," Sam promised, but there was another, sensual promise in his eyes for Nikki.
Maybe Liz was right, she thought as they continued to walk. Maybe she did spend too much time planning her life. It seemed that there were some definite advantages to allowing the unexpected to happen. Perhaps it was time to try living life one day at a time and see what happened.
❧
Though there was no discussion, it seemed as if both Sam and Nikki had the same idea. Over the next couple of weeks, there was no discussion of the future, no questioning what might lie ahead, no speculation about where the sudden change in their relationship might be going, if anywhere. Like lovers on a desert island, with no expectation of rescue, they lived life wholly in the present.
They made love. They talked about everything, from politics to movies, sometimes agreeing, sometimes agreeing to disagree. They made love. They swam in the pool. They made love.
Sam talked Nikki into trying her hand at weight lifting. Her brother, Alan, had bought the gym equipment when he was in high school, installing it in an unused bedroom on the ground floor. Probably the only useful thing he'd ever done, in Sam's opinion.
Nikki was a little uncertain about picking metal bars up only to set them down again, but Sam was persuasive, promising that she'd love it once she got the hang of it. He'd guide her every step of the way. He was true to his word, giving her an extremely hands-on demonstration of technique, which resulted in the discovery that an exercise mat was soft enough to make possible aerobic activities beyond the ones for which it had been intended.
Nikki sprawled across Sam's chest, listening to the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Her body tingled with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. They were still joined together, and she liked the feel of him inside her.
She'd never in her life felt so utterly replete as she had in the days since she and Sam had become lovers. He'd shown her a side of herself that she'd never known existed, a deeply sensual side that she found just a little shocking.
"I never realized that lifting weights was so much fun." The words came out just a little breathless.
"Building strong muscles is an important part of a solid program of health improvement," Sam said in a pedantic tone that made her giggle.
She suddenly laughed harder. "I just thought of something."
"What?" Sam smoothed his hand down her back, less interested in what she'd thought of than in the interesting vibrations caused by her laughter.
Nikki lifted her bead and looked down at him, her green eyes bright with laughter. "I finally understand the meaning of the term pumping iron."
Sam stared at her for a moment before her meaning sank in, and then he started to laugh.
❧
Having someone to laugh with was one of the things he'd missed most after Sara died, Sam thought hours later. And it was one of the best aspects of his relationship with Nikki—a relationship that had yet to be defined. Nikki was sprawled on her stomach beside him, taking up a ridiculous amount of room for a woman her size.
They'd eaten dinner together, then watched an old movie on TV, arguing all the while about who the killer would turn out to be. When the ending had proven him right, he hadn't been able to resist the urge to point out his superior powers of deduction. Nikki had proven herself a poor loser by hitting him with a pillow. The ensuing battle had ended with him carrying her upstairs draped over his shoulder, issuing threats in between giggles and demands to be put down.
The sex was certainly spectacular, he thought. And he'd be a liar if he said it didn't add a considerable amount to his current contentment, but he'd lived without sex before and could do so again, if necessary. But he really needed someone to laugh with, someone to talk to___He hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until now.
But that was all in the past. At least, he thought it was in the past. Sam frowned at the darkened ceiling, considering the unsettled state of his marriage. A marriage in the legal sense of the word, but not yet one in the less easily defined terms of commitment.
He eased onto his side and looked at Nikki. Her face was turned toward him, and he let his eyes trace the smooth lines of her profile. She really was a beautiful woman, but it wasn't her beauty that he'd fallen in love with. And he was through pretending to himself that he didn't love her.
He loved her. He wasn't sure just when it had happened—maybe even that first time he'd met her in Max's office. Maybe that was why he'd disliked her—because he'd looked at her and seen his own personal Waterloo.
Now that he'd admitted to himself how he felt, he wondered how she felt. Sam frowned and reached out to brush a lock of hair back from Nikki's cheek. It curled around his finger like a pale silk ribbon, like the most delicate of chains.
Chains of a sort were part of marriage, bonds that tied two people together, creating a whole that was stronger than its separate parts. They'd started out this marriage with the intention of avoiding all but the most superficial of those ties. But everything had changed.
At least, it had for him. He knew what he wanted. He wanted Nikki as his wife. For now. For always.
The question was: Did she feel the same?
❧
With Christmas almost upon them, it was easy for Sam and Nikki to postpone any discussion of their future together, a discussion they both knew was inevitable. But neither wanted to disturb the idyll they'd been granted. And the upcoming holidays gave them as good an excuse as any to avoid rocking their personal boat.
Christmas with the Walkers was like no Christmas Nikki had ever known. Feeling as if she wanted to return the hospitality she'd received at Thanksgiving, Nikki had invited the family to Pasadena for the holiday, broaching the subject very hesitantly over the phone with Rachel, afraid the other woman might think she was intruding. But Rachel had cheerfully consented to the change of venue, as long as Nikki allowed her to help with the food.
Since Lena was to spend the holidays with her son's family in Detroit, Nikki was more than happy to have the assistance. Though she was a better than average cook, thanks to Lena's tutelage, she'd never cooked a meal for so many people before.
Her own family's holiday celebrations had been modest. Her grandfather had not been fond of lavish celebrations of any sort. Nikki had sensed that even the tree seemed a bit much to him. A pleasant meal, a restrained exchange of gifts, a glass of fine sherry, and he'd considered the holiday sufficiently celebrated.
There was nothing restrained about the Walkers' Christmas celebration, however. They arrived together the afternoon of Chris
tmas Eve and immediately seemed to fill the big house. There were hordes of presents, most of them haphazardly wrapped.
The tree had been put in its stand but had yet to be decorated, a lack that was soon remedied. Lena had been the one to decorate the tree, which was invariably small and sat neatly in a corner of the entryway. Lena decorated a tree the way she did everything else—with care. One strand of tinsel at a time, carefully chosen ornaments and the lights arranged just so.
This year, Sam had chosen the tree, a huge affair that swallowed half the living room. And it didn't seem to occur to anyone in the Walker family that tinsel had been designed for any purpose other than hurling at the tree, where it settled in drifts and occasional clumps that no one seemed to mind. Bulbs were hung with a similar abandon, and no one seemed to care if three red lights happened to wind up in close proximity to one another.
When it was finished, Nikki thought it was the most beautiful Christmas tree she'd ever seen.
Lying in bed that night, cuddled against Sam's side, she realized she couldn't remember a time when she'd been happier than she was right at this very minute. She couldn't imagine ever wanting anything more than what she had right here and now.
Nikki felt a twinge of worry at that thought, but she was already half-asleep, cradled close in Sam's arms.
Christmas morning began early. Mary saw to that. She woke her father at six o'clock. Cole made sure everyone else got up.
"I'm not suffering alone," he announced firmly.
There was some obligatory grumbling, but no one wanted to be anywhere other than where they were, which was emptying stockings and opening presents. The mound of presents turned out to contain everything from hand-knitted sweaters to a rather greasy drill that Cole had borrowed from Sam and decided to return as a Christmas gift.
Jason Drummond arrived in time for Christmas dinner, and Nikki was amused to see the usually unflappable Rachel flush like a schoolgirl when she heard his voice in the hall.
A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Page 18