Expecting the Doctor's Baby

by Teresa Southwick

  “It’s a service Mercy Medical offers to the community. Happens every year on Halloween.”

  “Even so,” she said dunking her tea bag in the hot water, “you work awfully hard at being rude and abrasive. I think you care too much.”

  He blew on his steaming black coffee, then took a sip. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “It’s why you get short-tempered when you see someone in pain knowing it could have easily been avoided.”

  “It’s not about caring. I have a zero waste tolerance.”

  “You say potato, I say po-tah-to.”

  He frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “If you didn’t care, your tolerance would be boundless. You, Doctor, are a softie in a Scrooge costume. How appropriate to acknowledge that today. And for the record? When someone says ‘thank you’ the correct response is ‘you’re welcome.’”

  “I wasn’t raised by wolves.” The muscle in his jaw clenched as he frowned.

  “Speaking of family,” she said, “Connor was asking about you.”

  “Oh? Did you tell him you won’t go out on a second date with me?”

  “Technically we never had a first date.”

  What they’d had was sex. If she went out with him again, there was every reason to believe she would sleep with him. Again. Not only was it career suicide, it was a really bad idea personally. Obviously he didn’t want to care and she desperately wanted someone to care about her. He was a very bad risk on many, many levels.

  “You’re a client. It’s unprofessional to discuss you with my brother.”

  “Then I have to assume you brought him up for professional reasons.”

  She nodded. “The day we had lunch with him, one minute you were on my side, the next your mood took a swing to the dark side. I’d like to know what I said to trigger the sudden shift.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said it too fast and too sharply.

  “I think you do.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  She dunked her tea bag then settled it in her spoon and wrapped the string around it, effectively squeezing most of the liquid from it. “Shakespeare said it best. Methinks he doth protest too much.”

  “Don’t go psychobabble on me, Sam.”

  “That was literature. But I suppose all the most memorable characters are based in psychology. The thing is, Mitch, you’re looking at me now the way you did that day and I can tell by the dark expression in your eyes that something’s bothering you. Tell me.”

  “Do you put this much energy into all your clients?”

  No. But the word would never pass her lips. “I do my very best for everyone who comes to me for help.”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t think I need help. And you—”

  “I’m the one most easily walked all over,” she finished.

  “You said it, I didn’t.”

  “How we got here doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you can benefit from my training and I intend to see that you get something out of our time together.”

  “You’ll get something, too,” he said. “A horrible warning about the worst kind of client.”

  “You’re not going to scare me away. Talk like that just makes me more determined to get through to you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not worth it, Sunshine. It’s time to cut your losses with me.”

  “I can’t.” She couldn’t tell him that he got to her in a way that had nothing to do with professional and everything to do with personal. It was the worst mistake someone in her position could make. The thing is, caring hadn’t been a conscious choice. It just happened. “I’ve made a commitment to my boss and the company has a lot invested in the success of this contract with the hospital. I’m guessing the hospital has a lot invested in salvaging their employees, not the least of which is the cost of training a replacement.”

  “Wow, that gave me a warm fuzzy.” There was no warmth in his voice or the look he leveled at her.

  “I’m not trying to make you feel better,” she said. “This is a job. I’m responsible for helping you.”

  “Don’t do me any favors, Sam.” His expression darkened like a thunderhead over the mountains when he suddenly pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. “I have to get back to work.”

  She watched his broad shoulders as he walked away from her and wondered why Mitch didn’t simply fire her. Instinctively she knew that he wouldn’t tolerate coaching from someone who didn’t stand up to him. But meeting him toe-to-toe wasn’t getting him to share personal information.

  If she were smart, she’d put in her time with him and let it go at that. But she couldn’t just go through the motions. Not with him. She’d accused him of caring, which he vehemently denied. It takes one to know one and she cared about him.

  And she had to find a way to keep it from being the obstacle that destroyed her career.

  Sam’s shift was almost over and Mitch was sorry to see it end, even though her reminder that she was responsible for him had touched a nerve. When she left, he wouldn’t see her again until their next appointment. She’d made it clear there would be no bending of ethics. Not even a hint of anything personal. That seemed ludicrous considering they’d slept together, but she had him on a technicality since she hadn’t been his counselor at the time.

  Now he took pleasure in deliberately provoking her and she certainly brightened up the place. But the biggest problem with having her here at the hospital was the distraction of her mouth. When he didn’t have to focus on a patient, he couldn’t seem to forget how soft and responsive her lips had been. He vividly recalled how good she tasted, how soft her bare skin had felt pressed against him.

  They were standing next to the nurses’ station while she jotted down a few notes before she left for the day. In her Halloween costume, she was just about the sexiest witch he’d ever seen.

  “So, do you have plans tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Costume party?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at him. “Good guess.”

  “Have I ever mentioned how helpful my powers of deduction can be in practicing medicine?”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Watching her make chicken scratches in a notebook reminded him about her dyslexia. He couldn’t begin to understand how tough that must have been, yet it hadn’t crushed her spirit. She was brimming with enthusiasm and good humor, even when he was surly and irritable, and working at getting a rise out of her. But then, she’d had a lot of practice with that after growing up around Arnold Ryan.

  “Here you are.”

  Mitch turned at the sound of the sultry, female voice. The dark-haired, blue-eyed stunner dressed in tight jeans, tight black sweater and calf-high black boots wasn’t looking at him.

  Sam smiled brightly. “Fiona. Hi. Thanks for coming by to get me. I’m almost finished.”

  “Hurry it up. My car is in some poor physician’s parking space and if he or she needs it in a hurry, a patient hovering between life and death could be in trouble.”

  “That would be where I come in,” Mitch said.

  Frowning, Sam looked from him to the other woman. “I’m sorry. Mitch, this is my sister Fiona. Fee, this is Dr. Mitch Tenney.”

  Tall, slender Fiona Ryan held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.”

  “Mitch,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “Are you going to a costume party?”

  “Yes. What was your first clue?” she asked, giving him the once-over.

  “It’s Halloween. You’re here to pick up Sam. She’s in costume and just informed me that she’s going to a party.” He shrugged. “I connected the dots.”

  “His powers of deduction are legendary,” Sam said wryly. “Don’t underestimate him.”

  “Not a chance.” Fiona’s eyes sparkled with female interest. “So you’re a doctor?”

  He nodded. “Emergency medicine.”

  “As in paramedics, ETA four min
utes, GSW to the chest?”

  “Gunshot wound?”

  “I watch TV.” She lifted one shoulder. “The emergency room must be exciting.”

  He looked at Sam. More than Fiona could possibly know. “There’s also the occasional kid in a costume accident. Ignoring flu symptoms for too long. Allergic reactions. You never know what kind of trauma is waiting just around the corner.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He shrugged. “Just the nature of the job.”

  “You’re being too modest. Saving lives is incredibly noble.”

  It was the ones he couldn’t save that haunted him. But he didn’t plan on sharing that. “What do you do?”

  “I’m an attorney.”

  “So you’re the other Ryan with Upshaw, Marrone, Ryan and Ryan,” he said.

  “That’s right. How did you know?”

  “Connor came by for lunch one day,” Sam said. “I introduced him to Mitch.”

  Fiona glanced between them. “I have powers of deduction, too, and I’m guessing Mitch is one of your clients?”

  “Yes.”

  “If only mine were as interesting,” she said.

  “Be careful what you wish for.” Sam clicked her pen closed and flipped the papers back on her clipboard.

  “What kind of law do you practice?” Mitch asked.

  Fiona shrugged. “A little of this. A bit of that. Corporate mostly.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Oh?”

  “If you were a trial attorney you’d have the jury eating out of your hand,” he said.

  “Fiona doesn’t have to rely on her looks,” Sam snapped. “She’s too smart for that.”

  “I’m sure she is.” Mitch didn’t miss the irritation in his coach’s voice. Did it have anything to do with his premeditated sexist remark or the fact that he was flirting with her sister to deliberately needle her? “But the fact that she’s beautiful can only work in her favor.”

  “People do tend to underestimate me,” Fiona agreed. “I used to find it irritating. Why is it men can be hunky and smart, but a woman can’t be brainy and beautiful?”

  “That’s a good question.” Mitch leaned against the high counter of the nurse’s station. “Obviously a smart girl like you uses all her assets.”

  “You could take lessons.” Sam was actually scowling at him. “Oh, that’s right. You are taking lessons.”

  And he had liftoff on the provocation rocket. “I thought we established that I have excellent powers of deduction.”

  “And if you tacked on some of the charm you’re taking out for a spin, you could rule the world,” she snapped. “I’ve been trying to get you to tap into this side of your personality. Who knew my sister could bring it out in less than a minute?”

  “Imagine that,” he said calmly. “So, Fiona, what are you going to be for Halloween?”

  “The cape is in the car.” She smiled. “Little Red Riding Hood.”

  “Watch out for the Big Bad Wolf,” he cautioned.

  Sam made a scoffing sound. “Wolf alert, Fee. Run far, run fast while there’s still time.”

  “If I didn’t know better, Sam, I’d be offended that you believe I have less than honorable intentions.”

  “You mean you don’t?” Fiona glanced at her sister. “That’s a real shame.”

  “Don’t we need to get going, Fee?”

  Fiona glanced at the watch on her wrist, then smiled at him. “Yes. We’re late and I’m in an unauthorized parking space. Nice to meet you, Mitch.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “I’ll bring the car around to the E.R. entrance and meet you there, sis.”

  “Okay.” Sam watched until her sister had walked through the double doors.

  When she started to walk away without a word, Mitch put his hand on her arm. “Hold it.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to tell me what made your mood swing to the dark side?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Heaven forbid,” he said, holding up his hands. “But I couldn’t help noticing that your hostility was showing just a little. Most people wouldn’t even be aware of it. But you and I have spent a little time together working on my sensitive side. So…” He shrugged.

  Her eyes narrowed and if her face wasn’t painted green there would be pink in her cheeks. It took very little to remind him of the night he’d taken her home after her father had made her cry. He’d hated seeing her hurt but couldn’t regret that he’d been there for her.

  “We’ve spent time together in a professional capacity,” she said, clearly unwilling to acknowledge the personal.

  “That’s true. But I’ve come to know your personality a little, just as you’ve observed me.” He studied the expression in her brown eyes and couldn’t get a handle on what she was thinking. Crooking a finger beneath her chin, he nudged it up. “What’s up with you, Sam? You’re looking a little green. Is it possible you’re jealous?”

  “Not possible. I am jealous.”

  “I see.”

  And he was glad he wasn’t the only one. It was shallow, selfish and stupid. Not to mention a damn waste because this attraction couldn’t go anywhere. But he couldn’t deny it was there.

  “Boys always like Fiona better.” Surprise widened her eyes. “Did I say that out loud?”

  “Yeah.” He straightened her pointy hat. “You’re talking about in school, right?”

  “I mean now. Whenever we’re together boys—men—are drawn to my sister.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You were flirting with her,” she accused.

  “Busted.”

  She looked confused but that didn’t stop her from glaring at him. “If you’re not attracted to her, why were you flirting? And badly, I might add.”

  “Shame on you, Sunshine. That was a low blow.”

  “Sorry.” She sighed. “I don’t like being jealous.”

  “And yet you stood up for her,” he pointed out.

  “She’s my sister. We had our issues growing up but we have a good relationship now.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love her.” She pulled the brim of her hat lower on her forehead. “I don’t expect you to understand the Ryan family dynamics.”

  “Does love give them the right to walk all over you?” Now he’d said it.

  “They don’t do that,” she protested.

  “Maybe not Connor and Fiona. At least not that I’ve seen. But don’t even try to tell me your father doesn’t. I was there. What I don’t get is why you take it.”

  “The connection to my family means something,” she defended. “Preserving it is important to me.”

  “You don’t owe him your soul.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. The tension between you and your mother is strung so tight the two of you look like you’ll snap if you speak for more than two minutes.” She tapped her lip. “Oh, and you’re divorced. You take some blame, but it’s not your fault the marriage couldn’t be saved. Do I have it right?”

  Those were the facts he’d given her, but that was like diagnosing a brain tumor with nothing to go on but pulse and respiration. There was so much more. The waste of an innocent life—his child—and the lie that preceded it. Marriage kind of implied that a husband and wife made decisions together. Not so much for him and Barbara. That had damaged the marriage beyond hope of resuscitation.

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “And you have no right to talk about me unless your powers of deduction give way to being an expert on commitment, relationships and love. Until that happens, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t play Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf with my sister.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Okay.” She made sure her nose was on straight, then said, “Happy Halloween.”

  As he watched her walk away, Mitch frowned. Sam had told
him off and that turned him on as much as when she was brimming with sweetness and light. Fiona wasn’t the sister he was interested in and that was a damn shame. He had the hots for the Ryan who believed that love and commitment went hand in hand with responsibility.

  He’d been there, done that, and all he had to show for it now was zero tolerance for waste.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam walked through the E.R.’s double doors when they whooshed open, then went to the information desk. She was relieved to see Rhonda, the nursing supervisor.

  The woman smiled warmly. “Hi, Sam.”

  “Rhonda.” She was too uptight to return the smile. “Is Mitch here?”

  “No. As a matter of fact he left early. Why?”

  “He didn’t show up for his scheduled appointment.”

  “He probably forgot,” Rhonda said.

  Sam knew that couldn’t be. For the last month they’d been meeting several times a week with field observations thrown in. In that time she’d learned Mitch had a mind like a steel trap and forgot nothing. She went from troubled to worried in a heartbeat.

  “Is there a reason he left early?” she asked.

  “It’s pretty quiet. Now.” The plump brunette hesitated.

  “What?” Sam implored. “Did something happen.”

  “This is the emergency room. Something always happens.”

  “I mean was he too honest? Did he push buttons and stir the pot?”

  Rhonda shook her head. “It was just a bad day for him.”

  “It would help if I knew—”

  “You need to ask Mitch.”

  “If I knew where he was, that’s exactly what I’d do. I called the home number on file and his cell, but he didn’t pick up, either. I don’t even know where to start looking.” Sam leaned against the counter, suddenly exhausted as a bad feeling trickled through her.

  “If I were you, I’d start looking at Green Valley Ranch.”

  “The hotel/casino?” When Rhonda nodded, she said, “The place is pretty big. Can you be more specific?”

  “The Whiskey Bar. He’s mentioned it in passing a couple of times.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “Besides GVR, here and home are the top two.” Her round face took on a curious expression. “Are you going to look for him?”