The Doctors' Baby Miracle

by Tina Beckett

  And hell if Kady hadn’t wanted to be overlapped. By him. The whole damn time.

  She still did, despite her every attempt to banish it from her head.

  That was part of the reason she’d decided to come back to the hotel and focus on her future baby. The baby she was going to have.

  Not fun. Not fun at all.

  She’d been fine with that. Until Tucker had come along with his stupid kisses and super-sexy sofa-loving and ruined it all.

  “I actually came by to apologize for coming unglued this morning.”

  And that was the icing on the cake she’d had in the oven all day. His “coming unglued” was the thing that had given her the most pause about going through with the IVF.

  “Nothing to apologize for. It was a kiss. We’ve certainly done that before.”

  “Yes, we have.” He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, his khaki slacks seeming completely out of place in the steamy humidity of the pool room. “What I’m trying to figure out is why it’s happening now.”

  “We’re both under a lot of stress right now.”

  “So you’re saying I’m a stress reliever?”

  “You’re twisting my words out of context.” Like him, she had no idea why this was all suddenly happening now, when it hadn’t happened three years ago.

  He turned his head and nodded toward the phone. “So how many prospects have you got in there?” Her brain had to hop around a bit to follow his train of thought. This was still none of his business, but maybe by talking about it she could regain her earlier excitement.

  “Three.” It was insane to be sitting here, discussing this with him.

  “I take it all of them are genetically engineered perfection.”

  “Funny. You’re a real funny guy.” Okay, now she was mad. Mad because he’d hit on the very nerve she’d been worrying all morning long. How could she even tell what kind of men these were? They might seem like perfect physical specimens, but what were they like? Who were they?

  She was over-thinking this. People chose sperm donors all the time. And no one ever seemed to regret doing it. At least, not from all the glowing testimonials emblazoned on the walls of the fertility clinic.

  “Can I see them?” No sardonic humor in his voice now. He seemed deadly serious.

  “Why?”

  His dark gaze landed on her. “I’m curious to see who is going to father Grace’s half-brother or -sister, that’s all.”

  A shaft of pain went through her. He was right. Any baby she had would be Grace’s half-sibling. She would tell them all about her. But she wanted to get one thing straight. “He won’t be his or her father. Just a sperm donor.”

  In reality, the baby wouldn’t have a father, just some nameless figure who had masturbated into a plastic cup.

  Dammit, why was she making something that should be beautiful into a sleazy backroom thing?

  Like her encounter with Tucker in his office?

  No, that hadn’t been sleazy either. It had been exciting and powerful.

  And she was thinking about it far too much to be healthy.

  She should be grateful that there were men who were willing to help people like her. They were good, caring men. Men she should be glad had chosen to go this route.

  Tucker held his hand out for the phone. Against her better judgment, she handed it to him. “It’s kind of hard to read on that format.”

  “What’s your password?”

  Her chin tipped up, the numbers rolling off her lips. “Zero-eight-sixteen.”

  He started to punch the numbers in then stopped. His Adam’s apple jerked up before settling back into place. “August sixteenth. Grace’s birthday.”

  “It seemed appropriate somehow.”

  “And yet what you’re using it for isn’t.”

  A thread of anger uncoiled inside her. “I would have to disagree. She’s part of who I am. You admitted yourself that any new child would be Grace’s little sister or brother. It’s my way of making her a part of the process.”

  He typed the numbers in and looked at the screen, his thumb and forefinger moving in a way that made her earlier efforts at resizing the wording seem ridiculous.

  “Nope. Not this one.”

  She craned her neck to look at the screen. “Why?” It was one of those Kady had rejected. Maybe Tucker’s reasons would be a little more objective.

  “He looks like he could be your brother.”

  Her insides took a dive. Now that he mentioned it, he did look a little bit like the male members of her family.

  He scrolled to the next candidate. “A body builder, huh? Is that the type you’re drawn to?”

  No. It wasn’t. But there was no way she was going to tell him who she was drawn to. Because it was the man hunched over the small screen, khaki-clad legs on either side of the lounge chair as he kept reading.

  He looked gorgeous.

  His profile showed a strong nose, a slight bump in the bridge that he said had come from a skateboard accident when he was a teenager.

  She couldn’t imagine the Tucker of today on a skateboard.

  Instead, he frowned. A lot. His serious demeanor had put a dent between his thick brows, wiping away the carefree young man she’d once known. By Grace’s death? By their divorce? Or just by life in general?

  Could she blame him? She didn’t laugh nearly as much as she used to either. Losing a child was an experience that no one should ever have to face.

  And Tucker never would again, thanks to his vasectomy.

  “What about this third guy?” His voice jerked her attention away, glad he hadn’t found her staring at him.

  She’d already ruled the fake brother and the body builder guy out. She didn’t need to look at this one to know she wasn’t going with him either.

  How was she going to tell Dr. Torres that she couldn’t decide on anyone? Maybe it was like a menu. If there were too many choices, nothing looked good.

  Three was hardly too many.

  But none of them seemed right.

  She was trying to think up an answer when the dent in Tucker’s brows became more pronounced. He’d found something he didn’t like.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  That did not look like a nothing kind of expression. “Give me my phone, please. This is ridiculous. You are not going to help me choose a donor.”

  Surprisingly, he handed it to her. “Thank you.”

  “So do you accept my apology?”

  “Apology for what? Making fun of something that’s very serious to me? No.”

  He swung his legs over the side of the lounge chair and regarded her, elbows on his knees, hands loose between his strong thighs. “I’m not making fun of you, Kady, I know how much this means to you.”

  A knot formed in her chest. It did. Until now, and she wasn’t sure why. “Thank you.”

  Maybe the mechanical man hadn’t returned after all. Actually, he seemed a little different this afternoon, a little softer than when she’d first arrived. Or was that wishful thinking? She’d just been sitting there dreaming about that kiss in front of the hospital and whether or not he’d changed.

  Could he have?

  His gray eyes moved from her phone to rest on her mouth, as if reading her thoughts. When his attention slid higher, heated shadows now moving through his gaze, she shivered.

  He wanted to kiss her. Just like he had in front of the hospital.

  “What’s happening to us, Tucker? Is it just nostalgia?”

  “I didn’t behave very well after Grace’s death. I think maybe I’m seeing that for the very first time. Some of my choices might not have been very well thought out.”

  She blinked. Was he talking about having children? “We were both hurting. We just handled it in different ways.”
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  Maybe they’d both been a little impulsive. She’d jumped right to wanting another baby. And he’d leapt in the opposite direction. She might have pushed a little too hard to get her way, but three years after Grace’s death her desire to have another child hadn’t faded.

  “Is that what we’re doing now? Handling it? By handling each other?”

  She smiled. The first real smile since yesterday. Maybe that’s exactly what they’d been doing. And handling hadn’t been all that bad. “Maybe it’s what we both needed. The question is, now what do we do about it.”

  Especially since a little voice inside her was whispering to her that they could just keep going on like they were. And after that?

  “Hell if I know.” His tone was playful, like old times.

  Her smile grew. “There are only a few more days left of the conference. Surely we can keep our ‘handlings’ to ourselves.”

  “I’m pretty sure about me, but you...?” One side of his mouth went up in the devastating smile he wore so well.

  Ha! She wasn’t confident about herself either. “Are you saying I might not be able to control myself?”

  “I’m saying I know you can’t.”

  She swallowed. He was right. She couldn’t. The second he touched her she was toast. Just like she always was.

  Not good for a woman contemplating having a child with a complete and utter stranger.

  Well, Tucker sure hadn’t stepped up and offered his services.

  Oh, yes, he had. He might not be able to get her pregnant, but he got the job done. The job of needing and wanting and...

  Loving.

  Oh, no. No. No!

  The word games between them had just become deadly serious.

  She drew a steadying breath, even as her world tipped from side to side like a rowboat faced with frenzied seas. The reality she’d been toying with earlier washed over the side of her little craft, dumping her into the ocean in a second. She sputtered to the surface and headed back to the overturned vessel as the truth sank in.

  She loved him.

  That’s why none of those applicants seemed right. Why she was looking for some sign of him in each prospect. There wasn’t any, because Tucker wasn’t in those files.

  But it did her no good. She might love him but he didn’t love her. Or want children with her.

  His very presence was messing with her future happiness.

  She needed to tell him in no uncertain terms to stay away from her for the rest of the conference. Otherwise they were in danger of becoming colleagues by day, lovers by night.

  “I’m pretty sure I can control myself quite well, thank you very much.”

  “Really? Let me see that phone again.”

  “What?”

  What had seemed humorous a few minutes ago now left a bad taste in her mouth. He really was okay with letting her go through with using a sperm donor? Not that he had any say in the matter, but after what she’d just realized, it would have been nice to see at least a glimmer of misgivings.

  Fine. If he was okay with it, then she would be too.

  She handed him the phone. Instead of opening the screen, he set it down on the lounger and then stood to his feet. “What are you doing?”

  “Making a point about the boundaries of self-control. It’s pretty damned hard to talk about sperm when you’re lounging around, wearing practically nothing.” He waved his hand over her midsection.

  “Nothing? It’s called a bikini. This is a pool after all.”

  “I know. And a bikini and water go together like...” He smiled. A very knowing, cunning smile.

  “Don’t you dare.” She suddenly knew where this was headed.

  He scooped her into his arms. “Oh, I dare all right.”

  “Tucker! Put me down! This is definitely against pool rules.”

  “It’s definitely against our own rules too, but you don’t see that stopping me.” He started walking toward the edge of the concrete surround.

  “Don’t.”

  He paused. “You didn’t come out here to swim?”

  “Yes, but I changed my mind.”

  “That’s good, because I’ve changed mine too.” He swished her from side to side as he started counting down. “One...”

  “No, Tucker, I hate—”

  “Two...”

  “I am going to kill—”

  “Three!”

  At the last second she locked her arms around his neck, so that when his hands went to toss her she held tight. If she was going in then so was he, dammit.

  They both crashed into the water in a tangle of arms and legs and shockingly cold water. At least in her boat analogy from earlier, the water had been warm.

  She pushed to the surface, checking her bikini top this time before she actually stuck her head out of the water. All secure. Tucker was already at the side of the pool, lifting something out of the water.

  His phone! Oh, God. She swam over to him.

  “I’m sorry! I had no idea you were carrying that.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin that carried none of the anger she was expecting. “At least I did you the courtesy of setting yours aside.” He shook water droplets from the device, making her cringe.

  “Maybe you can put it in a bag of rice or something.”

  “I don’t think rice is going to do any good in this case.”

  Kady lived on her phone. It had her notes, her contacts, her appointment reminders. Everything. “Did you back it up somewhere?”

  As if she did. She never backed up her devices. She would after this, though.

  “It’s okay. I deserved it. And, yes, it’s backed up. And insured.”

  Was throwing an ex-wife into the pool covered under that particular warranty?

  There were lots of things that didn’t come with guarantees. Like relationships. And life.

  She wished they did, because then, just like the products that lined the shelves, you could avoid those that carried a “buy at your own risk” label. But if she and Tucker had never gotten involved, she wouldn’t have those sweet memories of her daughter. The heartache afterward had been almost as horrible as Grace’s death, but she would gladly go through it all again if it meant she could hold her baby girl one more time.

  But, of course, she couldn’t. And there were no do-overs in life. Moaning and groaning about the past did nothing but make you a bitter, angry person.

  Like Tucker had been?

  If she were honest, she had been pretty bitter and angry herself. About Tucker’s attitude, about the fate that had given them both a recessive gene that would destroy not only their daughter’s life but also their relationship to each other.

  She said the only thing she could think of. “I’ll pay to have it repaired.”

  He tossed the item over to her towel, hitting it on the first try. “I think you already have.”

  “Ha! Since you were the one who was going to toss me in while you stayed up on the surface high and dry. It seems like you got what was coming to you.”

  The water had gone from cool to languorously warm as her legs paddled back and forth, her arms supporting her upper body on the side of the pool. Maybe the warmth wasn’t so much the water as it was being next to the man she’d been unbelievably intimate with.

  With his black polo shirt clinging to his body in all the right places, he was a figure to behold. His khakis were plastered to his legs as well and... “Oh, no. Your shoes!”

  “At the bottom of the pool. And they’re not insured.”

  She peered through the water to the bottom and saw two black shapes, one beside the other as if he’d neatly placed them there on purpose. She started laughing, the sound coming up from the depths and carrying across the room. She suddenly felt giddy and carefree—couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this w
ay.

  “I’m glad someone finds my monetary outlay funny.”

  “It just...” She tried to suck down a quick breath before going on, the words broken apart by giggles. “It looks like you planned where each one would land. That’s a surgeon for you.” Her laughter picked up again, and she had no idea why. It wasn’t all that funny. Well, probably not to anyone but her. But Tucker was such a precise man in every way—he liked to be in control of his actions, that tendency carrying over into his surgeries. It’s what made him one of the best fetal surgeons in the country.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t invite you in to my surgical suite very often. I don’t think my patients would appreciate you chortling your way through their procedures.”

  “Chortling.” She coughed, trying to staunch the weird flow of sounds. “What kind of word is that?”

  “It means laughing.”

  Her nose crinkled as she struggled to regain control over her breathing. Not easy when every time those damn shoes came into her line of vision, her lungs started tightening in preparation for another round.

  Not good.

  “I know what it means. I’ve just never heard it used in an actual conversation.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “There are lots of words and sounds that aren’t used in actual conversations.”

  Her laughter dried up in a rush.

  “Sounds?”

  He answered with the lifting of his left brow.

  “Boundaries and self-control?”

  “Say the word and I’ll stay firmly on my side of that line.” His finger came up and trailed across her collarbone, belying his words and sending a shudder through her.

  He would stop if she asked him to. But right now she was caught under a spell she didn’t want to break.

  Making a decision, she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Lines can be stepped across. Can’t they?”

  “Yes, they can. It’s as easy as this.” One arm sank beneath the surface of the water and slid across the small of her back, just above her bikini line. “Too far over?”