Anyone who read her damn blog or followed her social media had more ammunition to solve the mystery of Dr. Narcissist. Talk about being put on the chopping block. Anyone who walked into the ER could be a social media detective, ready to roast him for his alleged transgressions against a poor, sick woman.
Fuck.
“Bali’s looking better and better right now isn’t it, my darling?”
Rashida fell into step beside him and looped her arm through his. Her habit of stopping to see him in the morning on her way to work was irritating right now. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her selfish, fake concern.
“Not now, Rashi.”
He pushed her arm away from his, but she dug her fingers into his bicep and held on with a death grip.
“Now, now, darling. Don’t get pissy. I’m not the one running you over the coals. I’m your savior, remember?” She leaned in, her breath against his ear. “We can leave tonight.”
He steeled his jaw. “I’m not running away. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Rashida’s hand ran up and down his arm, petting him, as she uttered a sound of pity. “No one will care that you’re innocent.”
Her breast pressed against his arm as she pulled him tighter next to him. They walked in step down the hall until it opened into the ER. A blonde head caught his attention from the Core. Afton was slightly bent at the counter, typing on her laptop.
Rashida followed his gaze, but he didn’t care. His heart fluttered, his lips recalling her sweet taste. His cock remembering her tight, slick pussy. Fuck, he’d fist that hair and hold her against the wall while he...
“You’re being fucking obvious, you twit.”
Rashida’s thick voice did little to curb the mindless lust. Afton turned suddenly, her eyes seeking his as if she’d known he was there, watching her. A small smile died on her lips as she eyed Rashida, still tightly pressed against him. Rashi smiled at Afton as her fingernails dug into the bare skin of his arm. Afton turned away, giving him a view of her back. Making it clear, very clear.
“Fuck her discreetly, then give me your answer about Bali. You have forty-eight hours to decide or the offer is off the table. And so is my pussy.” She cocked her head. “Think about it.”
She released him with a fast pull of her arm, tossed her hair and clipped off. He didn’t care. Seeking Afton again, his heart sunk to find she’d left her spot.
“Dr. Crisler, room two please.” A nurse thrust a tablet at him, forcing him to switch gears. He went through the motions with his first two patients, aware of the short glances the nurses were giving him. The stunted whispers. They were speculating. Sleuthing. Assuming.
Christ, how quickly a few words thrown anonymously onto the internet could become gospel, judge and jury. For over a year now, whispers had circulated this hospital over the accusations. Mid-list news outlets had picked up Deena G’s story, populating her nonsense as socially relevant. How in all this time had it not completely died off, replaced by some fresh, bloody scandal? Her hiatus from posting hadn’t slowed down the momentum at all. The moment she’d posted the miscarriage pictures after months of silence, the witch hunt resumed... Once people formed an opinion, they didn’t easily change it, no matter what the truth really was.
Noah went in with another patient, pausing when he saw a young man sitting on the bed. He was about his son’s age. Same dark hair, same youthful glow.
What would it do to Caleb to know his father was at the heart of this idiotic scandal?
Anxiety isn’t something he was familiar with, but the tightness of his middle and slight tremor going over his limbs pointed in that direction. He’d been holding on for months, confident this whole thing would blow over and eradicate him from implication. And what had he done to prevent things from getting worse?
Gave Rashida ammunition in knowing he was involved. Got involved with woman twenty years younger than him. Pursued her, despite being tied to an open relationship he didn’t want. He was floating by on his confidence, enjoying his freedom, and pushing it to the hilt. And for what? At the end of the day, he still came home to an empty, stark house that kept him company by echoing his own voice off the walls.
He looked at the young man on the table again and his heart sank.
He had to clear his slate. No matter how this all turned out, he had to stop this inadvertent attempt at self-ruin.
His cell beeped. Warning bells inside his mind said it would be from Deena.
It’s fun, isn’t it? Never knowing what will happen next!
His jaw clenched as he forwarded the message to legal and tried to put it out of his mind. By the time he finished with his patients, he realized he’d not seen Afton again or heard her voice from another room. Spotting Maddie across the hall, he strode over to her.
“Where’s Afton?”
“She had to leave early. Sick baby.”
The look on her face when she’d seen Rashida flashed in his mind. She’d seemed embarrassed, maybe. Not jealous. Not angry. Just, uncomfortable. The knee-jerk part of his man brain said he should call her and explain. But why? He’d been honest about his relationship with Rashi. Afton had fucked him anyway.
Ending it with Rashi was the first thing he was going to do. The second? Sever the pull he had to Afton. Let her go so she could enjoy her life without his baggage hanging over her.
“Did she say what’s wrong?”
Maddie cocked her head and regarded him with open interest. Another ER detective, trying to figure him out.
“No, she didn’t. She’s got it under control. Whatever it is, she’ll manage just fine.” Maddie’s voice turned harder, with the undertone of a protective big sister.
“I’m sure she will.”
She reached into her pocket and produced a cellphone. “She forgot her phone when she left. I’ll check on her when I drop it off.”
He reached for it, plucked it out of her hand. “I have to go that way, anyway. I’ll drop it off.”
She eyed him, lips pursed as if she were waiting for him to justify. He wasn’t going to explain himself to Maddie or anyone. He was a fucking doctor. If her baby needed anything, he could help. End of story.
Besides, he needed to see her.
She’d never mentioned her child’s father. It seemed she was alone in raising the child. She’d alluded to difficulties with her father, something that didn’t surprise him. Did she have anyone able and willing to help when she needed it? The urge to check in on her became an overwhelming need.
Remarkably, the rest of his shift went without drama. The staff resumed as normal. It seemed like any other day in the ER. By the time he finished up, the tension was back, driving him to hurry to Afton’s. To get his visual fill of her before he put her behind him.
Clenching her cell lightly in his hand, he took a cab to her apartment. It took a second to remember which door she’d gone in yesterday. Listening by the door for a few seconds, he knocked. Silence met his inquiry, so he knocked again, thinking perhaps he had the wrong one.
The door cracked, Afton’s blonde head showing through the narrow space. Her eyes went wide to see him there. Putting a hand to her mouth, she opened the door wide for him.
And swayed right before she fell to the ground.
Chapter Nine
“Afton!”
Something touched her cheek. Her body wobbled back and forth like she was being shaken.
Bitterness rose from the pit of her stomach, unfurling in her throat as a wave of heat washed over her face. She twisted, seeking a fetal position to make the nausea stop, but she couldn’t move. In the distance, the trill of a baby’s cry cut through her foggy mind.
Oh, God, Kylie!
She burst into motion, but it was short lived as weakness slowed her attempt to get up. That, and something holding onto her.
“Let me go!” She pushed against her constraints, aware of warm skin beneath her hands. A scent, so familiar. She blinked as Noah’s face came into view.
�
�I have to get Kylie!” Panic and confusion warred with each other as she struggled to get up.
Noah made a soothing sound.
“She’s okay, I promise. You fainted, Afton. Take it easy.”
Noah felt her head with the back of his hand. His brow furrowed, concern clear in his eyes as he gently helped her up. Afton wavered as she rose, clinging to his strong forearms until she had her balance. He slipped an arm around her back and held her securely against his side.
“Better?”
“I think so.”
She took a slow breath against the nausea rising in her throat. She wasn't sure what had happened. The sitter had called only an hour after Afton started her shift, saying the baby was vomiting and restless. Shortly after picking her up, Afton experienced the worst queasiness of her life and was quickly confined to the bathroom. She’d laid on the couch with Kylie next to her in her bassinet. Dizziness had assaulted her the moment she’d gotten up to answer the door, and next she knew, she was looking up into Noah’s eyes.
Afton let Noah guide her back to the couch and laid back against the armrest. Kylie whimpered from her bassinet, her small arms reaching out to be held. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, Afton moved to pick up her daughter, but a wave of dizziness forced her back.
“May I?” Noah indicated to Kylie.
She paused, but then gave a slow nod. Noah reached for the baby, his strong, capable hands closing around her little body as he lifted her to his shoulder. She gave a strong wail, lower lip trembling until he pressed her gently against his chest. Her round cheek rest on the crook of his neck, his arm cradling her little bottom, holding her there.
Fitting his daughter against his body like it was exactly where she belonged.
He began a soft sway and patted Kylie’s back. Pressure started behind Afton’s eyes and she blinked hard to hold back tears. The handsome lines of his body were more beautiful with his curled-up accessory pressed so lovingly against him. The baby hiccupped, sighed, and curled her fists into the fabric of his shirt as her eyes closed. Noah Crisler was a god damned natural.
I should tell him.
Afton reached her hands out. “May I have her, please?”
Kylie was hers. Letting Noah get any ideas, any attachment, would jeopardize everything. Wouldn’t it? He’d make promises and then hightail it out of their lives. Or, he’d make promises and keep them, ripping Kylie out of her life.
He’d be a great father. He could be everything she ever wanted. Or her worst nightmare.
He bent to hand off the baby. The scent of his light cologne hit Afton’s nose and bile rose in her mouth, her stomach churning. Scrambling off the couch, she doubled over and headed to the bathroom, barely getting the door closed before kneeling by the toilet.
“Go, Noah. Just set her down. I don’t want you to get sick.”
His footfalls sounded across the room until he stopped, thankfully remaining on the other side of the door. She didn’t want him to see her this way.
“I won’t leave you.”
Tears pushed past her resolve and flowed down her cheeks. Damn it, it had been so long since anyone had given a shit about her; been willing to help her. Why did it have to be the man she couldn’t have?
Seconds turned into agonizing minutes before she could sit back and wipe her face with a washcloth. Ever alert for sounds from Kylie, she was relieved her baby was quiet, content on her father’s shoulder.
A fresh sob welled up in her throat, hot tears resuming their cascade. Afton pressed the cloth to her eyes. The emotion had to come out. Between her physical misery, and the emotional turmoil of seeing Noah hold his secret daughter, her body seemed like it might rip in two.
She had to get him out of her apartment immediately before her heart mistook his kindness for something more. Maybe at one time she’d been able to keep her emotions out of a physical relationship but having Kylie had turned that off like a shorted-out switch. It was poignant, seeing her daughter being cared for by her father. It was comforting that he was concerned enough to want to stay and help them through this. Noah Crisler was a doctor, yes, but he was also a kind man.
She crept slowly out of the bathroom. Her hair stuck to the side of her face, her lips and eyelids were tight and puffy. She was a disaster right now, yet honestly, she didn’t care anymore if Noah saw her this way. This was life, life with a sick baby when you were sick yourself. There was no glamor here.
“Thank you, Noah, but you should really go.” She reached for Kylie again. He hesitated before slowly removing her from his shoulder.
Noah’s gaze locked on her baby’s face as he held her in his hands. He searched, curiosity and wonder crossing his features. His lips subtly parted as he tipped his head a bit to study her better. He acted as if it were the first time he saw her, really saw her, and was wonder-struck. Cradling her in one arm, he softly traced Kylie’s cheek and over her brow with one finger. He couldn’t seem to tear himself away.
“How old is she, Afton?”
She heard the question, but it seemed far away. As if she’d dreamed it. The angles of his face were stunning in the dim living room light. Stubble covered his jaw, his golden hair gleaming and pushed messily back from his forehead. Kylie had feminine versions of Noah’s straight jaw and almond-shaped eyes. Each month lightened her hair, until one day, she’d be as brilliantly blonde as her dad.
He knew.
He had to know.
Her lips went numb. Heavy. She moved to take Kylie, hesitated.
“Please, just give her to me.”
“You weren’t pregnant in Cabo. Were you?”
“I want my daughter, please.”
His eyes turned to her. “Were you?”
“Please. Just go!”
Another wave of dizziness crashed into her. Afton wavered to the side, slapping a hand to the wall to steady herself. Noah placed the baby back on his shoulder and grabbed her with his other hand.
“Let’s get you to the couch.”
Afton clung to his forearm as he guided her to the couch. Just then, Kylie gave a wail, her little body convulsing as she vomited over Noah’s shoulder and down his back. He helped Afton sit before changing the baby’s position. She hiccupped before another wave came gushing out of her, down her onsie and over Noah’s arm.
Afton wanted to do something, but the dizziness had her own stomach threatening to explode.
“Just lie back, Afton. It’s okay. I’ve got her.”
Weak and struggling to keep her eyes open, she had no choice but to trust him. There was nothing she could do. Not like this. In a daze, Afton curled knees to chest on the couch. From the distance, the sound of water running, and the soft, even tones of Noah’s voice. Kylie fussed and hiccupped. The water dripped and sloshed. The baby squealed delightedly.
Afton wrapped her arms around herself as crushing fatigue overwhelmed her. Noah was giving his daughter a bath. Running warm water for her, washing her gently, talking and cooing to her as he cleaned her up. A tear rolled down Afton’s cheek. This was a moment she thought she’d never witness. The only thing that could be more special is if her own mother were the one here right now, giving her granddaughter a bath.
# # #
Noah was about ninety percent numb. The other ten percent was shock.
The timeline worked out perfectly. Cabo, nine months later, a baby about six months old. It was the only explanation to why this little girl looked exactly like his son Caleb did at this age.
Exactly.
He closed off any emotion while he bathed her. Lying back in the yellow bath seat, she was all pudgy thighs and belly rolls, her hair plastered to her head save for one piece that stuck up in the back. Huge blue eyes watched his every move with no hint of fear. Her little mouth puckered, showing off dimples that mimicked Caleb’s. The arch of her eyebrows almost peaked in the center, another trait she shared with her... Christ, with her brother.
He grabbed a plastic cup from the side of the tub
, filled it with warm water and carefully rinsed her hair. Covering her eyes with one palm, he poured the water over her soapy locks, smoothing them to be sure the soap was gone, rinsing again until he was sure.
She grabbed his hand, her little fingers wrapping around his pinky with a squeal, as if she’d found a new toy.
Noah’s chest was so tight he could barely breathe. What if this wasn’t his daughter? Maybe his mind was matrixing, mapping out the worst-case scenario. He was already embroiled in scandal. The stress was causing him to think up the worst possibilities in everything by default.
But, what if she was his?
What then?
Rubbing his forehead, he drained the tub and pulled Kylie into a towel and gently patted her dry. She fussed, rubbed her eyes with small fists. By the time he had her wrapped up, she was asleep. Still forcing himself not to think too much, he went into the living room and found Afton sleeping right where he’d left her.
Her cheeks were flushed despite the paleness of her face. Experience told him that Kylie’s fever would return after her bath too, and if they were both sick with the stomach bug that had brought many patients to the ER, they had another 24 hours to go before things got better.
He found the nursery, put the baby in fresh jammies and placed her in her crib. He gripped the side rail, released his fingers, clenched them again. This couldn’t be happening. He’d raised his child. He loved his freedom, to come and go as he pleased. To spend money as he pleased. To bring women home without being encumbered by a sleeping child down the hall.
She looked so much like Caleb. Her face relaxed in sleep, the sweep of her dark lashes over pale cheeks. The set of her tiny mouth. Something pulled in his chest, moving him to sweep her hair away from her eyes.
Baby in His Arms Page 10