Fearless in High Heels by Gemma Halliday Page A

one of us would catch that person first. 

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    “Seven a-m,” I said with a sigh.
    Dana blinked at me.  “So?”
    “Ramirez didn’t come to bed until seven a-m,” I told her and Marco over cups of herbal tea the next morning.  A fact that had distressed me so much that as soon as Ramirez had slunk out of bed and slipped off to work that morning, I called Dana for a much needed girl-whine.  Good friend that she is, she’d called Marco for back-up and they’d both shown up on my doorstep a scant fifteen minutes later with a box of tissues in one hand and a box of chamomile in the other. 
    “And he left me again at nine,” I added.
    “He didn’t leave you.  He left for work ,” Dana said, sounding way too logical. 
    I nodded.  “I know.  You’re right.  But you’re missing the point.  When he’s at work, I can handle that.  But he was here last night.  He just didn’t want to sleep with me .”
    “Honey, are sure you’re not overreacting just a little?” Marco asked, sipping from his paper cup.  He’d wisely stopped at Starbucks on the way here today, bringing with him a fully loaded latte.  Vanilla if my nose didn’t deceive me.  With cinnamon.  I was so jealous. 
    I shrugged.  “Yes.  No.  I don’t know.  But this is the second night in a row that I’ve slept alone.  And I just know that… well… things aren’t the same lately.”
    “What things?” Dana asked.
    “Very important things.”
    “Such as?”
    I sighed.  “Such as, do you know when the last time we had sex was?” I asked.
    Marco shot a look at my belly.  “I’m gonna say five months?”
    “Ha.  Ha.  Very funny,” I mumbled.  Even though he was almost right.  I’d like to think it was a coincidence that the homicide rate had suddenly picked up the same time I started looking like a large water mammal, but lately I was starting to have my doubts.
    “I’m just not sure I do it for him anymore, you know?”
    “He’s just busy,” Dana reassured me.  “You know how he is when he’s hot on a homicide.  Ramirez is crazy about you.  I mean, didn’t he come home early last Monday?”
    I nodded.  “Because we had Lamaze class.”
    “Well, what about the week before. He took a whole afternoon off, didn’t he?”
    “To help me pick out a jogging stroller,” I pointed out.
    “Honey, your social life is making me sad,” Marco said.
    I shot him a look.  “Watch it, pal.  I outweigh you by a good twenty pounds at the moment.” 
    Marco looked down at my belly again.  But he shut up.
    “Look, I’m sure when this case is wrapped up, Ramirez will be all over you again,” Dana said.
    “I don’t know if I can wait that long,” I whined.  “I mean, you have no idea what it’s like.  I’m experiencing… well, some pregnancy side effects that I’m having a hard time dealing with on my own,” I hedged.
    “Like what?” Dana asked, concern drawing her eyebrows together.  “Nausea?”
    “Not today.”
    “Bloating?” Marco asked.
    I shot him a look.  “Do I look bloated to you?”
    He was wise enough not to answer that.
    “Pickle cravings?” Dana asked.
    I shook my head.  Even though a pickle didn’t sound half bad, now that she mentioned it.
    “Is it the gas?” Marco asked, scrunching up his nose.  “I heard pregnant women have excessive gas.”
    “No!  God, you guys are really making me feel better about myself here.”
    “Sorry,” Marco mumbled, though his nose was still scrunched up as if he wasn’t 100% convinced.
    “So, what is it?” Dana asked.
    I bit my lip.  “It’s, well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but… it’s the hormones.’
    Dana gave me a blank look.  “Like… weepy hormones?”
    I shook my head.  “Worse.  Horny hormones.”
    Marco let out a blast of laughter, and Dana covered a snort with her hand.
    “I’m serious!” I said.  “The hormones running through me right now are insane.  I’m like a