Then he grabbed the plate of spaghetti, tucked the foil-wrapped loaf of bread under his arm and left the room.
Chapter Eleven
“Okay.” Dr. Montgomery rolled back on her stool and smiled. “Everything is excellent. Just exactly the way it should look moving into your second trimester.” She peeled off her gloves and tossed them in the trash while Shea pulled her feet down from the stirrups and sat up on the examining table. “You finished that course of antibiotic I gave you for your sinus infection?”
Shea nodded, self-consciously adjusting her paper gown over her bare knees.
“Good.” The doctor picked up her pen and began making notes on the chart lying open on the short counter next to the table. “And no more headaches or fever since then?”
“No.” At least the headache caused by her infection was gone. The one caused by living in the same apartment as Pax for the past two and a half weeks and pretending that it was remotely normal, though, was alive and well.
The only ones in that apartment who seemed comfortable with the situation were, strangely enough, the dog and the cat. Marsha-Marsha had finally ventured off the top of the bookshelves and was tolerating Hooch’s enthusiastic curiosity where she was concerned, with only the occasional hiss and howl.
“Anything else you want to discuss before Daddy joins us again? Questions? Concerns? Trust me, Shea. There is nothing I haven’t already heard over the years.”
She shook her head.
The doctor looked at her over the tops of her stylish glasses as if she were deciding whether to believe her or not. But she just nodded after a moment and smiled again. “All right, then.” She made another note on the chart and closed the folder. “Once you’re dressed, I’ll see you and Pax in my office.” She slipped out the door and closed it.
Shea exhaled and quickly hopped off the examining table. Thankfully, Pax had been banished from the examining room by the nurse at the beginning of the appointment when she’d handed Shea the paper gown. Now that she was done, she pulled it off and shoved it in the small bin in the corner before dragging on her jeans. She couldn’t blame it on her imagination when the zipper didn’t fasten as easily as it had the week before. She wasn’t showing yet. Not really. She knew, because she looked in the mirror in Pax’s extra room every morning before she got dressed for work. But her pants were definitely getting tighter.
She fastened her brand-new bra, one of several she’d bought before the appointment, and yanked her sweater over her head. Then flipping her hair free of the neckline, she left the examining room and followed where the nurse was pointing to Dr. Montgomery’s office.
Pax was already there, sitting in one of the chairs situated in front of the tidy desk. He barely gave her a glance when she took the chair next to him.
She wished she had the same control.
He’d come straight from the boat works to meet her at the doctor’s office and was dressed in a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows and well-worn jeans with heavy work boots. It didn’t take much to envision him with a tool belt fastened around his lean hips, wielding saw and hammer. Preferably without The Shirt.
A shiver danced down her spine.
What was wrong with her? She’d never had lascivious thoughts this way about Bruce, and she’d thought she loved him.
“What should we be doing about her morning sickness?” Pax clearly had no problems focusing on the matter at hand. “She’s up at six every day losing it.”
Since she’d moved in, their exchanges had been pretty limited, mostly confined to how Pax thought she worked too many hours and wasn’t sleeping and eating enough. He also couldn’t understand why she insisted on keeping her ancient car when he had two perfectly good vehicles at their disposal. “How do you know that?”
He gave her a look. “We live under the same roof.” He turned his attention back to the doctor, who was watching them curiously.
“As long as Shea’s able to keep most of her food down during the day, I wouldn’t worry,” the doctor advised. “The nausea typically begins easing up now after the first trimester. And yes, I know you and Shea can pinpoint the time of conception, but the weeks of her pregnancy are counted from her last period. So officially, this is her second trimester.
“But if Shea’s nausea doesn’t resolve, and it becomes really severe, there are steps we’ll discuss taking. In the meantime, home remedies are generally the route we go.” She leaned forward and caught Shea’s eyes. “And, of course, I can’t emphasize enough that you should try to minimize stress as much as you can. Meditation, light exercise—”
“I’ll start taking Hooch out every day for one of his walks,” she offered quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was get on the topic of stress. Hers was already topping the charts; she didn’t need Pax adding the subject to his arsenal.
The doctor nodded approvingly, and before Pax could start in on another question, Shea pointedly looked at the clock on the wall. She’d told Harvey she’d only be gone over her lunch break and it was well past that. She had no desire to antagonize her boss further when he was still more than a little peeved that he’d had to learn from other sources that she was living with Pax.
Now he wanted her to do a set of pieces about their supposed “big romance” and couldn’t understand why she refused.
“I’ve already taken up plenty of your time, doctor. So if that’s it, I should get back to work.”
“That’s it,” the doctor said easily. Shea could only imagine what the woman was thinking. But these days, she was certain Dr. Montgomery saw a lot of couples who were pregnant outside of marriage. She removed a sheet of paper from Shea’s chart and handed it to her. “Just give that to Maria on your way out and we’ll see you again next month. And, of course, please call me if you become concerned about anything at all before then.”
“Thanks.” Shea took the form and hastily left the office ahead of Pax. Dr. Montgomery’s practice was a busy one; there were two women ahead of Shea once she’d followed the maze of hallways to the exit and the young woman sitting behind the tall counter there. Pax reached her just as it was her turn and slid his business card across to Maria before Shea had even pulled out her own wallet.
“Make sure everything is billed there,” he told the girl, who blushed a little under his easy smile and assured him she would take care of it.
“I have insurance,” Shea whispered under her breath while the girl went to make a copy of the card.
“With crappy coverage, I’m betting,” he countered. “I can afford it.”
She pressed her lips together, wondering if he actually did know just how skimpy the policy was that she paid for through the Tub. She wouldn’t put it past him to have called Harvey to find out. Maria returned and gave him back his card, then tapped on her computer keyboard a few times.
“We can fit you in at nine on April 10,” she said. “It’s the doctor’s first appointment of the day, so you’re less likely to get stuck with a wait like you did today.”
He upped the wattage on his smile for Maria. “Can you find something later in the afternoon?” His hand slid over Shea’s shoulder and squeezed. “She doesn’t feel so great in the mornings.”
Maria nodded eagerly, obviously charmed. She typed busily. “What about the same day at three?”
“Fine,” Shea said quickly, lest Pax find something wanting about that time also, but mostly because his hand was burning on her shoulder and making her mouth dry.
The girl made out a reminder card and handed it to Pax. “See you next month.” The poor thing practically had stars in her eyes.
Shea managed not to roll her own eyes and headed out the exit to the drizzly day. Pax quickly caught up with her, obviously intent on walking her to her car considering the hand he wrapped around her elbow.
She wasn’t sure if that
was easier or harder to ignore than having his hand on her shoulder. Probably because she couldn’t forget what it felt like to have his hands all over her. Fortunately, she’d gotten a decent parking spot, so the torment wouldn’t have to last long.
“Erik and I have a client dinner tonight,” he said. “I’d like you to come with me.”
She almost tripped over her feet. “Why?”
“Because both Erik and our client, Miles White, are bringing their wives,” he said smoothly, as if that explained it all.
She opened her mouth to say no. She really did. What was the point of behaving like the couple that they weren’t? “Okay.”
The corners of his lips kicked up slightly and she looked away, shoving her hand into her voluminous purse in search of her keys as she crossed the last few feet to the car.
“And tell Harvey you need a few hours off tomorrow.”
She found the keys and closed her fingers around them so tightly it hurt. “I have a busy schedule,” she said quickly. “I’m going to Kirkland for a park dedication and then afterward have to head over to a high school that’s conducting a fashion show. The students in Home Ec made the clothes out of recycled materials.”
“That’s not going to take you all day. When’s the park thing?”
She couldn’t make herself lie, much as it appealed. She stifled a sigh and pulled out the keys. “After lunch.”
He slipped the keys out of her grasp and unlocked her car door for her. “Then we’ll meet the Realtor in the morning. He’s found a few houses that look promising.”
“You’re really looking at houses?” She hadn’t believed he was serious when he’d mentioned it that one time, and it hadn’t come up since.
“I really am.” He opened the door. “And I want your opinion.”
“Why?”
He angled his head, watching her. “Because it matters to me.”
Her chest squeezed. She was getting in deeper and deeper and she wasn’t sure how she’d ever get out.
Or if she wanted to.
And that scared her most of all.
“Fine,” she said brusquely and slid into the car. “But I have to be done by eleven.” She yanked the door shut and shakily fit the key into the ignition.
Instead of moving away from the vehicle, he knocked on the window and waited until she rolled it down. “Now what?”
“Reservations tonight are at seven. Dressy.” His eyes were amused, his voice bland. “Because I know how preoccupied you get over what to wear.”
“I do not,” she denied testily. She hated worrying about what to wear and he darned well knew it. She turned the car key. The engine clicked once, gave a groan and went silent.
Great. Just...great.
She pulled out the key and looked at Pax again.
“This wouldn’t happen if you drove my car,” he pointed out, the smooth soul of reason.
She ignored him, rolled up the window and got back out of the car, dragging her purse and computer case along. “Will you drop me off or not?”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
She turned her face up to him, letting the faint drizzle cool her skin. The last time they’d stood like this together on a wet, gray day had been on the deck of Honey Girl. And thinking about that didn’t slow the blood zipping around in her veins at all. “Please.”
In answer, he took the strap of her computer case. “I’ll send someone over to get the car.”
He’d take care of everything for her if she let him. “I can do it.”
“I know you can. But you don’t have to. You’re the one who’s pregnant. So let me do this.”
There was no point in arguing. And the truth was that she was heartily tired of dealing with the darned car. “Fine. Thank you.” She hitched her purse over her shoulder and slammed the door shut before walking to the trunk and opening it. The last time she’d had the car at the mechanic after the ice storm, it had been there for nearly two weeks. She needed to make sure she had everything she needed.
“What’s that?” Pax tried to looked past her at the shopping bag in the trunk, but she grabbed it before he could.
“I bought a few things on my way over here.”
He lifted an eyebrow. The devilish look in his eyes would have made an angel jump ship. “From Victoria’s Secret? Anything you intend to share?”
Her cheeks felt hot. She closed the trunk and turned to his SUV parked in the next row. “Don’t think they’d fit you,” she returned. “But interesting to learn you’ve got a thing for wearing women’s underwear.” She had no desire to tell him she’d gone in search of new bras because the ones she already had were now unbearably snug.
His soft laughter followed her. “Just a thing for getting a certain woman out of hers.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
She exhaled and quickened her step, for all the good it did her. His long legs would always outpace hers. When they reached the SUV, he opened the door for her and she stuck her purse and bag on the seat. And even though she was prepared, when he closed his hands around her hips and helped her up, she still went hot inside.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she busied herself with the computer case he’d handed over, pulling out a pad of notes she’d been making on her assignments for that week and pretending to study it while he drove her to her work. She didn’t put it away until he pulled to a stop on the street in front of the building.
“I’ll pick you up at four.”
“I can take the...” The words died on her lips. He’d definitely argue with her over public transportation. “Thanks. I need to go by and see Cornelia today, too.” It wasn’t Shea’s usual day, but Cornelia had needed to reschedule. Shea’d finished reading every one of the letters Cornelia had given her and hadn’t found a single idea worth pursuing, but she still needed to return them.
“No problem.”
Aware of the traffic piling up behind them, she gathered her stuff and got out. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Say hi to Harv. Tell him we’ll have him over for dinner sometime.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing he was joking. “He’d wet his pants.” A car horn tooted behind them, so she quickly closed the door and walked to the sidewalk. Pax continued on and the traffic churned along behind him.
Only when she could no longer see his taillights did she finally turn and go inside.
She took the elevator up to the Tub’s floor, where everything was as chaotic as it usually was during the last few hours of their workday. Her desk wasn’t much more than a cubbyhole in a back corner, and though she didn’t particularly want to pass by the glass window of Harvey’s office to get there, she couldn’t avoid it.
Fortunately, he was hunched at his desk, clearly intent on something else as she scurried past. She dumped her stuff on the floor next to her desk and sat down to get to work. She was already late getting an article in that he’d wanted that morning. She had been too busy hiding out in the ladies’ room, losing her breakfast for the umpteenth time, to finish it before she’d left for her appointment.
It was nearly four when she finally was satisfied with the piece. She emailed it to Harvey and then looked over the wall of her cubby to Josh Cooper, who was the only one left besides her who hadn’t deserted the place for the day. “He’s been really quiet in there this afternoon.”
Josh nodded his prematurely balding head. “Sometimes miracles do happen.” He looked up from his computer across at her. “But that’s the stuff you get to write about. Not me.” He looked back at his screen again. “Nothing but corruption and greed, death and dying for me,” he muttered.
Shea stared. Then shook herself. No way would Josh want to trade seats with her. “Not m
any miracles,” she said, pushing out of her seat. “But I did get to interview that duck living in the school fountain.” She walked across the room to Harvey’s door and stuck her head in. “I just—” Her words jammed in her throat.
Harvey wasn’t sitting at his desk.
He was lying collapsed on the floor behind it.
Panic roared through her. “Call 911,” she yelled to Josh, raced around the desk and kneeled in the tight space beside her boss.
“Harvey? Can you hear me?” She shook his beefy shoulder, but he didn’t move. She bent low, racking her brains to remember the CPR class she’d taken years ago. She couldn’t feel even a wisp of breath on her cheek.
“Come on, Harvey,” she begged. “You’re too ornery for this. Cooper!” She stacked her hands on the center of Harvey’s chest and pressed down with the heel of her palm. Pressed hard. Pressed fast. Something about a hundred compressions a minute hovered in her brain. “Josh!”
He practically skidded into the room, his eyes wide. “Jesus.” He had his phone clutched to his ear. “What’s wrong with him?”
“How should I know? Heart attack?” She kept counting compressions in her head. She could barely feel Harvey’s chest giving beneath her pushing and she leaned farther on her knees, putting all of her weight behind it. “Is somebody coming or not?”
“Yeah.” He listened at the phone and kneeled beside her. “They want to know if you’re experienced at CPR.”
“Do I look experienced?” She stopped and leaned over Harvey again, desperately wanting to hear or feel a breath but getting nothing. “Are you?”
“Hell no.” He listened again. “We’re just supposed to do the chest compressions,” he said and nudged her aside. “Take the phone. I’ll help.” He shoved it into her hands.
She shakily put the cell phone to her ear. Her heart was pounding from anxiety and exertion. “Hello? Please tell me you’ve sent an ambulance or something.”
“They’re already on their way, ma’am,” the 911 operator assured her. “Is the patient still unconscious?”
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