The only problem was now all plans were on the fast track, and it really was taking all hands to pull off the wedding of Anna’s dreams.
Two weeks ago, the six of them had sat at this very dining room table stuffing, addressing, sealing and stamping invitations to three hundred of the couple’s close friends. The available date, November 29, was one week from today—the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. It wasn’t ideal, since so many people went away for the holiday and traveled on that Sunday.
Because of the time crunch, the girls were under strict instructions that they could not leave Kate’s house tonight until they’d each filled fifty jars.
As an incentive, Anna had offered to buy dinner for the person who finished first and helped the slowpoke of the group get up to speed.
Becca knew she might very well end up being the slowpoke tonight because her mind was elsewhere. She loved her friends, but tonight, she wanted to be a fly on the wall in the living room, where Nick was bonding with the guys.
He’d surprised her and agreed to come with her to Kate and Liam’s tonight. After the arm twisting the night before last, Becca made up her mind not to push him. She couldn’t think of a faster way to scare off a man than to guilt him into spending a Sunday evening with her friends.
But if the sounds coming from the living room were any indication, her friends were becoming his friends. That made her happy beyond words. Still, a fly on the wall had no use for words. So she kept her head down and her ear tuned in, trying to pick out Nick’s voice among the mix of hooting, hollering and the occasional bit of hospital talk, since four of the six men were doctors.
“Who needs more wine?” Pepper hopped up and started going around the table refilling goblets with the bottle of Chianti she’d brought back from Italy.
“Becca, honey, why are you drinking that god-awful caffeine-free tea when you could be enjoying a little piece of Italian heaven. Here, let me get you a glass.”
“No, thanks, Pepper. I’m good.”
Pepper laughed. “How could anybody be good drinking that liquid spice ball?”
When Pepper headed off into the kitchen, Becca and Kate exchanged a look. Pepper was a sweetheart, but sometimes she could be too damn bossy for her own good. Or in tonight’s circumstances, for Becca’s good.
The woman was like a bloodhound—she could smell a secret two counties over. And Pepper’s antennae had been up since Becca’s trip to the emergency room after her bout of food poisoning. Pepper hated feeling left out. However, she was a Southern belle, and rather than ferreting out the answer she was looking for, she used techniques that involved endearment, helpfulness and graciousness—key tools of the Southern belles trade.
Tonight she would obviously not rest until Becca either drank the Chianti or served up a Pepper-approved explanation as to why she was passing on such a treat.
When she came back into the dining room, she set the glass in front of Becca and drained the rest of the bottle into it. As soon as Pepper had finished, Kate waltzed right over and swooped up the wine.
There was hierarchy at work here. Pepper was married to Kate’s brother, Rob, and as the sister-in-law, Kate could get away with certain transgressions that mere mortals would never in their right minds dream of committing.
“Kate, darling, if you would like some more wine, I brought another bottle. We can open it. Granted, it’s not from Italy, but I do so want Becca to try the Chianti. I don’t want her to miss out.”
Kate had done her part. Becca had to think fast.
“It’s very sweet of you, Pepper, but I haven’t felt like myself all day long. I’m afraid if I have even a taste of wine it might not settle with me. It doesn’t even sound good right now. So I’d hate for you to waste it on me.”
There. That was good. Only a social moron would keep pushing wine on a person who wasn’t feeling well. Becca was glad to get Pepper off of her back, because she certainly couldn’t tell anyone else about the babies until she told her parents.
Kate was a rare, reliable jewel, and Becca knew her secret was safe with her. Kate was more reliable than a Fort Knox vault.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” A.J. laughed at her own joke. Their friends Lily and Anna joined in the merriment because on a normal day Becca would’ve been voted the least likely of all the women at the table to announce she was carrying twins.
“Good one, A.J.,” Becca said. “How many glasses of wine has she had tonight? I hope Shane is driving.”
Then the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” Becca stood to answer it. Kate seemed to instinctively understand that answering the door was Becca’s chance to escape the inquisition. On her way, as she passed by the living room, she would also be able to glance in and see how Nick was getting along.
Nick caught her looking. She was glad, too, because even though there was a football game on the television and an abundance of testosterone in the room, he’d been in tune enough to her presence that he’d sensed her coming. Or more likely she just got lucky and happened by when he happened to be looking up.
She relished the breathless excitement, the way the mere sight of him made her stomach flip. She shot him a flirty little smile that was as much eyes as it was lips and kept right on walking to the front door.
She’d been so wrapped up in flirting with Nick, and since the usual gang was present and accounted for, she hadn’t given much thought to who might be at the door.
Before Becca could actually open the door, the person on the other side let himself in. Becca found herself face-to-face with Zane Phillips, a friend of Rob’s and whose own horse-breeding ranch was located about ten miles outside of Celebration. The guy was tall and rich and all kinds of gorgeous.
“Zane, hello. What a surprise. I didn’t realize you were coming over.”
Zane flashed her his trademark rugged, sexy smile. “Hello, Becca. I certainly am glad to see you. I had no idea that you were part of this football party or I would have joined in a lot sooner.”
Last year, Zane had hosted a fund-raiser for the foundation on his ranch. At one time, Becca would have given her eyeteeth for him to ask her out. Today, as she stood there in the foyer with him acting all attentive and flirty, all she could think about was Nick.
“Come in. The guys are in the living room.”
Zane lingered in the foyer. He didn’t seem very worried that he was missing the game.
“How have you been?” he asked. “And why did we never go out after the fund-raiser?”
Wow. Her timing really did stink. Actually, Zane was the one with bad timing.
“If I remember correctly, it’s because you had a girlfriend.”
He held his index finger in the air. “You have a very good memory.”
“It comes in handy sometimes.”
“And, apparently, a good sense of humor, too. I don’t have a girlfriend anymore. Apparently, she didn’t have a very good sense of humor.”
Was he about to ask her out? Right here? In the middle of Kate and Liam’s foyer? Six months ago this would been something from a dream. But now Becca found herself inwardly squirming and backpedaling faster than a unicyclist poised to ride over a cliff.
“Can I get you a beer, Zane?”
Maybe she could buy herself a little time by offering him some liquid refreshment. Then Nick stepped from the living room into the foyer.
“I was just going to get myself one, Becca,” Nick said. “Would you help me find the kitchen?”
* * *
Could the man—Zane someone or the other—not take a hint?
Nick knew he had no right or claim on Becca, even though she was pregnant with his babies.
Still, in his book, when a guy was late to the party and it was clear that a certain woman was there with another guy, the latecomer needed to ba
ck the hell up and stop flirting.
Was he jealous?
Was that what this foreign feeling was? Jealousy? He’d never experienced it before—or at least not like this.
Nick tried his best not to let it show as he followed Becca into the kitchen, even though Zane hadn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle hint and trailed along behind them.
“How is the favor making going?”
Becca ducked her head and lowered her voice. “It would be fine if Pepper would stop pushing wine on me.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
She grimaced. “Yes. I can’t tell if she’s just in a generous mood, wanting me to share in the wine she brought back from Italy, or if she’s onto something and trying to force my hand. Know what I mean?”
Nick blew out an audible breath. “Sorry about that.”
“Thanks, but it’s not your fault. She can be a little bulldog when there’s something she wants to know and feels like it’s being kept from her.”
“We can leave anytime you want,” Nick said as they stepped into the kitchen.
Just like the rest of Liam and Kate’s home, the kitchen was traditional and expensive-looking with its marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. Yet, with pictures and progress reports and notes tacked to the refrigerator and silly messages and reminders scrawled on the chalkboard that hung by the door, it still had a lived-in look that suggested this room was the heart of the Thayer family.
Liam and Kate’s two girls, who had been cheering at the game Friday night, were hanging out with Lily and Cullen’s brood of children, whom the couple had adopted shortly before they got married, Nick had heard. Cullen, who was chief of staff at Celebration Memorial, had been the kids’ godparent before their natural parents had died in a car accident. The older kids were watching A.J. and Shane’s toddler.
Everything about this group seemed to be centered around family. That concept was so foreign to Nick, but in a strange way it almost felt as if he could trust them to be a built-in support system for him and Becca—once they broke the news.
Still, the jaded, scarred part of him that had always relied on himself warned him not to be so trusting so fast. Periods of flux sometimes had people swimming for what they thought was the surface, but when it was too late they realized they were actually heading in the wrong direction.
“Aren’t you having a good time?” Becca asked.
“I’m having a great time. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“That’s very sweet,” Becca said. She touched his hand, and the urge to kiss her again had him lacing his fingers in hers.
The way she looked into his eyes made him believe that she wanted that, too. And for a moment he’d almost forgotten about Zane, who’d made a detour through the dining room to flirt with the other women, no doubt. They were married women, but the guy didn’t seem to care.
For a moment Nick gave the guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just one of those men who loved women. Couldn’t fault him for that. Especially since the detour seemed to indicate that he must have gotten the hint that Becca wasn’t available—at least not tonight.
And then the guy made his presence known.
“Hey, what are you two conspiring about? The way you have your heads together makes me wonder if there’s something I need to know.”
You need to know what we’re talking about is none of your business. You need to know that you should back off. You need to know that Becca obviously isn’t into you—
“How about those beers, guys?” Becca said, her voice a lot perkier than it had been just moments before.
Nick held up a hand. “Thanks, but I’m good. I don’t need to drink any more tonight, since I’m driving you home.”
He wished he could take back that last part, but he couldn’t help saying it. When would Zane finally get the hint? The guy had asked her out, and she hadn’t answered; he’d noticed that the two of them had had their heads together in private conversation; and now Nick had made it very clear that he was the one taking her home.
Anyone with half a brain would catch the hint.
“I didn’t even introduce you two,” Becca said, suddenly all good manners and charm. “Nick, Zane is a good friend of Pepper’s husband, Rob. He has been a big supporter of the Macintyre Family Foundation. He has sponsored a couple of fund-raisers for us. Zane, Nick is new in town. He’s a doctor in the emergency room at Celebration Memorial. He’s been here less than a month. I know I can count on you to make him feel welcome.”
After a long pause, Zane extended his hand. “Welcome to Celebration, Nick. It’s a great place.”
As Becca got a beer out of the refrigerator, Liam entered the kitchen, carrying four empty beer bottles.
“There you are, Nick. It’s halftime. Tell me more about your thoughts on the Hastings kid.”
Nick watched Becca hand the bottle to Zane.
“Austin Roberts told me the boy has been in twice for chest pains over the past ten days,” Nick said. “In between ER visits, he was treated by his family doctor, who diagnosed an upper respiratory infection. I heard that he was back in the ER last night. Was he tested for aortic dissection?”
Liam placed the bottles on the counter near the sink and turned back to Nick, a solemn expression on his face.
“I don’t know. He’s only sixteen years old. That disorder is not very common in people so young.”
“Any family history of aortic dissection?”
“I couldn’t tell you without his chart here in front of me, but I’ll contact his pediatrician and see if he thinks tests are warranted.”
“I suppose that’s all we can do right now, since he has a pediatrician.”
It went against protocol to question another doctor’s practices and procedures, but this disorder, which caused a tear in the lining of the main artery for blood leaving the heart, wasn’t common and went largely undiagnosed.
It could be spotted with medical imaging equipment and could be treated, but if undiagnosed, it could be deadly.
If Nick were his pediatrician, or if he’d been on duty last night when the boy came in again, he would’ve automatically ordered the tests.
Not that he didn’t trust Liam to follow through, but he made a mental note to make sure somebody followed up with the boy’s doctor. He just didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
He’d learned the hard way that sometimes if you looked away for just a moment you didn’t get a second chance to make things right. Even if the tests came back negative, he’d rather rule out the deadly condition than have the boy suffer the consequences.
Even though Nick’s full attention had been trained on Liam as they discussed the case, it didn’t go unnoticed that Zane was at it again.
The guy was standing much too close to Becca. He had one arm braced against the wall as he leaned into her. He saw Becca take a step back and cross her arms as she angled her body away.
After Liam, armed with four freshly opened beers, went back into the living room to rejoin the guys and watch the last half of the game, Nick was better able to hear what Zane was saying to Becca.
The guy was asking her out again. Couldn’t he read her body language? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she wasn’t interested.
Obviously, the guy wasn’t very good at picking up subtle clues. Nick went over and slid his arm around Becca’s waist.
“Sorry, man, she’s busy.”
Chapter Seven
“I’m not mad at you, Nick. I’m just confused because you keep sending me mixed messages. I get the feeling that you don’t want a commitment—at least not a romantic commitment—but then when a man asks me to have dinner with him you tell him I’m busy?”
There. She’d said it. Now almost everything was out in the
open. Except for the million-dollar question. She hoped he wouldn’t make her spell it out. But on the drive back to her place from Liam and Kate’s, she’d decided she was prepared to go for broke, because, really, what did she have to lose?
Him, maybe?
She didn’t really have him. She was carrying his babies, and he seemed to be easing into the role of expectant father, but that didn’t mean the two of them had a relationship beyond co-parenting.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been sending you mixed signals,” he said as he steered the car into a visitors parking place in front of Becca’s condo. “I guess I’ve been trying to figure this out myself. But spending time with you this week, and, yes, I’ll admit, watching Zane make his big move, helped some things crystallize.”
Becca’s heart went all fluttery. Even though she knew she should tell Nick he couldn’t have it both ways, when he turned to her and ran his thumb along her jawline, trailing it across her bottom lip, she met him halfway as he leaned in and covered her mouth with his.
His kiss was soft at first, transporting her to that magical place she always found herself in when she was with him.
He tasted vaguely of beer, but there was something else, something spicy and minty-cool freshening the taste. Something that tempted her to open her mouth wider and to lean in closer.
When she did, he deepened the kiss. Her whirling mind registered the velvety feel of his lips—those skilled, talented lips. God, he was just so darn good at this. So good at invading her personal space and instinctively knowing how to touch her just the way she wanted to be touched.
Becca didn’t care about anything but this moment—this single moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered but the two of them and the babies growing inside of her.
“Should we go inside?” he asked, his breath whispering over her lips.
She answered him with another kiss before putting her hand on the door handle.
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