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“Is everything okay?” Avery asked Justin as they were driving away from his parents’ house.
“Sure,” he said.
“There seemed to be some...tension,” she said cautiously, “between you and your dad when you came back to the dining room.”
“It wasn’t about the baby,” he promised. “My parents are both thrilled that they’re going to be grandparents again.”
“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Because you haven’t seen them when the whole family is together. My mother is never happier than when there are a bunch of little ones around. It nearly broke her heart when Ryan and Harper moved to Florida with Oliver last year.”
“You’re lucky to have such a close family,” she told him.
He could tell that she was thinking ahead to the following weekend, when she would be in Georgia for a medical conference—and to share the news with her parents.
“Do you want me to go to Atlanta with you?”
She seemed surprised that he would offer and, after only the briefest hesitation, she shook her head. “You have to work Saturday night.”
“I can get someone to cover for me,” he offered.
“There’s no need.”
“Would you tell me if there was?” he asked her.
“I’m not going to pretend that my parents will be even half as excited or supportive as yours, but I can handle it.”
Of course she could. Avery didn’t need anyone to help her with anything. Not only could she handle everything on her own, she preferred it that way—a truth that continued to frustrate him. “I’d really like to be there with you when you share the news with your parents,” he said.
She shook her head. “Having you there will only shift attention from the baby to our relationship.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Yeah, because right now, I’m not prepared to face questions that I don’t know how to answer.”
“All the more reason for me to be there,” he suggested.
“Not this time,” she said.
“Okay,” he finally agreed.
They rode in silence for another few minutes before she said, “If the tension between you and your dad wasn’t about the baby—what was it about?”
He should have realized she wouldn’t be distracted from her original inquiry. “Old wounds,” he said simply.
“Anything to do with your sister?”
He frowned. “What hat did you pull that out of?”
“It makes sense,” she said. “Your father had a child out of wedlock and now you are, too.”
“It’s hardly the same thing. For starters, I wasn’t married—or even involved with someone else—when I was with you.”
She nodded in acknowledgment of that fact.
“Because regardless of what you think of me and my reputation, I don’t juggle women.”
“I know,” she said.
“But you still think I’m a bad bet,” he guessed.
He was surprised by the shake of her head and even more so by the response that followed.
“I don’t think you’re a bad bet,” she denied. “I think I am.”
* * *
As Avery got ready to go out for dinner with Justin Wednesday night, she couldn’t stop thinking about her last patient of the day. Karen Greer’s fourth child had died in utero at twenty-eight weeks as a result of listeriosis and although an induction was scheduled for the following morning, Avery was still apprehensive.
She called the clinic to get Karen’s home number so that she could check on her patient. It rang six times before the young mother answered, and she sounded harried and out of breath when she finally did. Of course, chasing after three young boys, she was often harried and out of breath.
“Your procedure is booked for eight a.m. tomorrow,” Avery reminded her. “I just wanted to make sure that works for you.”
“That’s fine,” Karen said. “I’ve made arrangements for my sister to come and watch the boys.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” she said.
But even after she hung up the phone, Avery couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She considered that there might be another cause for her preoccupation—maybe she was worried about her date with Justin and desperately trying not to think about it.
She saw him almost every day, and they occasionally had lunch or dinner together. But grabbing a bite after work was casual and easy, tonight was a DATE. Tonight he was taking her to a restaurant that required reservations, and for some reason that put their relationship on a completely different level—a level she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for or even wanted.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. She did want to take the next step with Justin, and that scared her almost as much as her growing feelings for him. She wanted to believe that he could make a commitment to her and that they could raise their child together as a family, but personal experience warned her otherwise.
Amy kept urging her to give him a chance, but giving Justin a chance meant risking heartbreak, and that was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. So she’d go out for dinner with him, and she’d work with him to figure out what was best for their baby, but she wasn’t going to be foolish enough to hand him her heart.
She’d just fastened her earrings when her phone rang. She automatically checked the display, more curious than concerned until she saw R&K Greer. She dropped the lid on her jewelry box and connected the call.
Ten minutes later, she was on her way to the hospital.
* * *
Justin had made reservations at Casa Mercado, an upscale tapas bar and restaurant that had been highly recommended by his brother, Ryan. While he and Avery had made some slow and steady progress in getting to know each other, he’d deliberately kept their dates low-key: casual meals, movies at home, walks in the park. Tonight, he was determined to wow her.
And maybe tonight, when he kissed her good-night, he would turn up the heat a little. And then, if she invited him inside, he wouldn’t walk away. The chemistry between them was one more reason he believed they could make a relationship work, and he was prepared to exploit it if necessary.
Except that when he arrived at Avery’s building just after seven to pick her up for their seven-thirty reservation, there was no response when he buzzed her apartment. He called her cell phone next and sent a text message, but got no answer to either. It was then that he returned to the parking lot and saw her car was missing from its designated spot. He called the restaurant and canceled their reservation.
He wasn’t upset or angry. Being a doctor meant that the best-laid plans often went awry—he understood that as much as anyone. A medical emergency required immediate response—he wouldn’t expect her to take the time to call him and, in fact, he would have been surprised if it had occurred to her to do so. She would have been focused on caring for her patient and that was how it should be.
But when the emergency had been dealt with, when she had a minute to catch her breath and focus on other matters, he hoped that she would call to explain. His phone remained silent.
* * *
Avery sank down onto one of the overstuffed sofas in the doctors’ lounge, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her chest felt tight and her eyes were burning, but she didn’t cry.
She hadn’t let herself shed many tears since she was nine years old and found out that her grandmother had died. Dr. Cristina Tobin—Avery’s mother—had tolerated a few sniffles, then she’d told her daughter to dry her eyes, because if she ever wanted to have a career in medicine, she was going to have to accept that death was a fact of life and learn not to give in to her emotions.
Avery had broken down a few times since that day, but not ever again in front of her mother. The first time was when she’d broken up with Mason Turner, her first love and first lover; the next was when she’d lost a twenty-five-week-old baby during her obstetrics rotat
ion in medical school.
She’d known the baby’s chances of making it were slim, but the neonatal team had worked so hard to get the nearly two pound baby through the first and most critical twenty-four hours after birth and he’d seemed to be doing well when she went home at the end of her shift. But when she returned to the hospital the next day, he was gone. It wasn’t the first patient she’d failed to save, but for some reason losing that baby—an infant that she’d helped deliver, that she’d held in her very hands—had really shaken her.
Tears were a sign of weakness, Cristina had told her. She was already fighting an uphill battle as a woman. She couldn’t afford to be weak and she especially couldn’t afford to show any sign of weakness.
She wasn’t crying now, but the tears were there—burning her eyes and clogging her throat. She’d known that Karen’s baby was gone, of course, but holding on to the tiny lifeless body, she’d been overwhelmed by a wave of grief and frustration and fear. Karen had carried and delivered three other children without any difficulty, but an undercooked burger had introduced dangerous bacteria to her system and ultimately cost the life of this one.
And suddenly Avery was in a panic about her own unborn child, overwhelmed by the knowledge of how many things could go wrong in a pregnancy and swamped by a feeling of complete helplessness. Because even if she did all of the right things—and she was trying—there were no guarantees that her pregnancy would go to term or that the baby would be born healthy.
She heard the door open and footsteps enter the room, but she didn’t look up. The footsteps drew nearer, and then Justin lowered himself onto the battered coffee table, facing her.
“It’s cookies ’n’ cream,” he said, offering her a single-serving tub of ice cream and a spoon.
She looked at him blankly.
“There’s conflicting evidence about the safety of herbal teas during pregnancy and I know you hate decaf coffee,” he explained. “I figured this was a more appealing option.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the frozen offering. “But what are you doing here?”
“Well, my plans for the night fell through so I thought I’d hang out at the hospital and try to pick up a hot doctor.”
She tried—and failed—to muster a smile for him. “Good luck with that,” she said, peeling the lid off the tub to dip the spoon into the ice cream.
He settled his hands on her thighs. “It seems to be working out so far.”
“I should have called you,” she said, before she shoved a spoonful of cookies ’n’ cream into her mouth.
“I’m a doctor, too,” he reminded her. “I know how it works.”
She dipped the spoon into the container again and nodded.
“How’s your patient?”
“Stable,” she answered around the mouthful of ice cream.
“How are you?”
Her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head as she swallowed. “Apparently not so stable.”
He moved to sit beside her on the sofa, putting his arm across her shoulders. She didn’t know why, but it felt natural to tip her head back, so that she was leaning against him. He was so solid and warm and, for some inexplicable reason, just being close to him made her feel safe enough to finally let go of the grief that she’d been holding inside. Justin didn’t say anything as the tears spilled onto her cheeks, only held her close while she cried.
“I knew the baby was gone,” she told him when she’d gathered her composure enough to speak again. “We did an ultrasound earlier today and confirmed an intrauterine death. She was scheduled for induction tomorrow morning, and although she started to bleed around four o’clock, she thought she could hold off until the morning.”
Avery closed her eyes and sighed wearily. “She didn’t call me until after she’d made dinner for her other kids. I immediately called 9-1-1 but she was unconscious even before the paramedics arrived.”
“But she’s okay now,” he reminded her gently.
She nodded. “Physically, anyway. The emotional scars will take longer to heal.”
“They always do.”
“I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that she’s got three other kids to take care of at home.”
“Is there a dad in the picture?” he asked.
“A great dad—devoted to his wife and kids but busy working two jobs to keep a roof over their heads, so he doesn’t get to spend much time with any of them.”
“A common dilemma for a lot of parents,” he noted.
She nodded again and scooped up some more ice cream.
“Are you going to share any of that?” Justin asked her.
“I thought you bought it for me.”
“I did,” he agreed. “But I missed dinner, too.”
She offered the spoon to him.
There was something incredibly sensual about sharing an eating utensil, about watching his lips close around the spoon that had been inside her own mouth. And a slow growing awareness pushed through the bubble of grief that had enveloped her.
She tore her gaze away. “I am sorry about our date.”
“We’ll reschedule,” he promised.
She wanted to, because she enjoyed being with him—so much more than she knew was smart. It was crazy how quickly and completely he’d infiltrated her life, how much she looked forward to seeing him every day, and how much she missed him when she didn’t.
Being with him was exciting and scary, because her feelings for him were already so much stronger than she’d ever intended. He had this uncanny ability to know when she needed him—even if she wouldn’t admit it. And the more time she spent with him, the more she was in danger of not just relying on him but falling in love with him. Despite her earlier promise to herself not to give him her heart, she was afraid that she’d already done so.
“What are we doing here?” she asked softly.
“Sharing ice cream.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean at this particular moment.”
“What did you mean?”
“I’m just wondering why we’re going through the motions.”
He scooped up another spoonful of ice cream. “Is that what you think we’re doing?”
“We had sex and I got pregnant and now we’re trying to turn that into a relationship, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I know you’re accustomed to having a life plan,” he acknowledged. “But not everything can be scheduled and organized according to your timetable. Sometimes you just have to let things happen and be willing to deal with the consequences.”
“Isn’t our baby proof that I’m doing that?”
He tightened his arm around her. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that.”
“Said what?”
“Our baby.”
She frowned. “I say it all the time.”
He shook his head. “You say ‘the baby’—you don’t usually acknowledge that we’re both responsible for the life growing inside of you.”
“Maybe I was subconsciously trying to absolve you of responsibility.”
“I don’t think it was subconscious at all.”
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “When I first suspected that I might be pregnant, I was certain you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the baby—our baby.”
“And now you know you were wrong?” he prompted.
“Now I’m starting to believe I was wrong,” she acknowledged.
He kissed the top of her head and hugged her close. “Then we’re making progress.”
Chapter Thirteen
The next day, Avery was carrying her lunch tray into the atrium when she spotted Callie. She hadn’t seen the nurse in several weeks and started automatically toward the long table where she was seated with several other nurses. As Avery drew nearer, their conversation faded away.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “I just wondered how Camryn and Brad are doing with their new baby.”
“You’re
not interrupting,” Callie said, speaking loudly enough to ensure that she could be heard by everyone at the table. “Nothing more than the usual hospital gossip, anyway.”
Heather shot her a venomous look as she picked up her tray and left the table. A couple other nurses commented that they were due back at their stations and followed suit.
“I guess the talk was about me,” Avery said, which didn’t really surprise her.
Anyone who had seen her with Justin would be able to tell that the relationship between them had changed. And people were watching, because Dr. Romeo had always been the subject of much scrutiny and speculation around the hospital. People liked to talk about who he was dating and guess how long a relationship would last. Some of the nurses ran a pool—anything outside of two weeks was always considered a long shot—and bonus points were awarded to anyone who correctly identified the lucky woman chosen as his next companion.
No one would have guessed that he would pick Avery, and she could tell that they were as baffled as they were envious that he was with her now. Of course, only she and Justin knew the truth—that they were only together because she was pregnant with his child.
She hated that people assumed she was sleeping with him—which was both ridiculous and hypocritical, because while she wasn’t actually sleeping with him now, she had been naked with him. She had no right or reason to be upset that they were judging her for the truth.
The worst part, though, was that her body had apparently not gotten the memo from her brain that what had happened between them that night was not going to happen again. Every time he touched her or kissed her, her hormones started clamoring for more.
“Heather’s all bent out of shape because she saw you and Dr. Garrett in the lounge together last night,” Callie explained, gesturing for her to sit down.
“And?” Avery prompted, setting her tray on the table.
The nurse shrugged. “She said he was—” she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers “—consoling you.”
“I almost lost a patient last night,” she explained. “Dr. Garrett could tell I was upset, and we sat and talked for a while.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Callie assured her. “Everyone thinks the two of you would be great together. Well, almost everyone. Not that everyone is talking about you,” she hastened to explain. “Because that would be completely unprofessional and inappropriate.”