She watched him work, pulling out plates, bread, the jar of crunchy peanut butter and the bananas. A warmth trickled through her that had nothing to do with the baby growing inside her. If she had to describe the feeling, the first word that popped into her head was pampered.
And perturbed.
He looked so cute moving around the kitchen making sandwiches. A feast for the eyes as she watched the muscles in his biceps bunch and his broad shoulders square off on the task. She was uneasy because when she’d agreed to temporarily move in with him, her concern had been mostly for the baby but partly about him being exhausted. She’d never considered him hanging around with her and unleashing a siege on her senses.
“How was work?” she asked. Anything to get her mind off this personal turn her thoughts had taken.
“The gladiator is holding his own against the lions and tigers. But his prognosis is still guarded.”
“Why?”
He walked over to her with a plate in each hand before handing her one and setting the other on the coffee table. “Because he’s fragile and anything can happen. Do you want milk with dinner?”
“What are you having?”
“A beer since I’m officially off call.” He rested his hands on lean hips. “But I don’t think you’d better have one.”
“It doesn’t even sound good and probably wouldn’t be the best choice for the baby.” Talk about his work reminded her that he knew better than anyone the need for prenatal caution. That’s why she was here. “Milk it is.”
He nodded, then fetched and delivered the drinks before sitting down beside her. He was staring at the muted movie on TV as he took a bite of the sandwich identical to hers. To his credit, he didn’t choke or spit it out. Also to his credit, he’d put apple slices and baby carrot sticks on each plate.
Cindy stared at her food. “Do you always eat like this?”
“Like what?” He took another bite.
“Peanut butter and banana. Healthy and nutritious.”
“Never had this before. It’s pretty good,” he admitted.
Suddenly she was really curious about his usual habits. “What’s a normal dinner for you?”
“I grab takeout on the way home from the hospital. If forced to cook, it’s a steak on the barbecue.”
“So you’re doing this for me,” she said, indicating the fresh fruit and veggies.
“Yeah.” He crunched on a carrot. “It’s the right thing to do.”
To some men “the right thing” in this situation would be marriage, but he’d never brought it up. Maybe because his wife had died. Was that why he didn’t believe in love? Because it hurt when you lost that special person?
At least he was honest, and that was refreshing after the jerk who’d done nothing but lie to her. And Nathan was a nice man. It was incredibly difficult to work up a heart-healthy amount of resistance to him when he was nice.
“What are you watching?” He took a sip from the long-neck bottle of beer.
“I was channel surfing.” She wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to explain stumbling onto this old movie. “Came across this Steve McQueen, Natalie Wood picture. Love with the Proper Stranger.”
“What’s it about?”
She took a big bite of her sandwich and savored the flavors mixing together. But the truth was that peanut butter did stick to the roof of your mouth and it took her a minute before she could answer the question. Long enough for the parallel between her life imitating movie art to become clear.
“It’s a chick flick.” That should put an end to his curiosity.
“Steve McQueen usually plays a tough guy. Guns and car chases. Why is he standing in the middle of a crowd holding bells and a banjo with a sign around his neck that says, ‘Better wed than dead’?”
“You don’t really want to know.”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Okay.” She looked at the happy ending silently playing out on seventy-five inches of screen. “They had a one-night stand and she got pregnant.”
“Really?” His expression said that he got the parallel.
“He’s not the marrying kind but asks her anyway because it’s the right thing. And in the olden days it was quite the stigma for a woman to be unmarried and pregnant.”
“I actually know that.”
“She turns down the proposal. Stuff happens and when he gets to know her, he discovers that he can’t live without her, but he’s blown it big time. The bells, banjo and sign are very public, his grand gesture to prove he really wants to be with her. That he loves her. Very romantic.”
“I guess.” He set his empty plate on the coffee table. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“Someone must because romance is a moneymaker at the movies.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Titanic was the highest grossing movie ever. Until recently.”
“The boat sinks. So what’s your point?”
“Exactly that. Everyone knows the boat sinks. The only reason that movie was so successful is because there was a love story at the heart of it. No pun intended.”
“Is it possible that the special effects pulled in the public?”
“Some,” she admitted. “Did you see it?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you suppose Rose as an old woman threw that expensive necklace in the ocean?”
“Dementia brought on by advancing age.”
She laughed. “That works. I just kept thinking if she didn’t want it, she should give it to me. I could really use the money.”
“But if romance is the heart of the movie, that scene is symbolic. One could deduce that love makes no sense.”
“If you don’t believe in love, far be it from me to try and convince you otherwise. It’s not worth the argument.”
“Good. Do you mind if I put on a ball game?”
“It’s your TV.”
And house. Love had no place in his life. She was grateful for the reminder because hanging out with him was fun but a bad idea. After what felt like an eternity of digging herself out of debt by herself, leaning on him would be too easy. It would also leave her vulnerable and with nowhere to hide.
However, since their one-night stand he hadn’t made a single move on her. Maybe because she was pregnant, but more likely because he was so over her. That meant the attraction getting stronger for her was one-sided and made the obsession to fortify her heart just silly.
His lack of attention proved she’d been right about him losing interest when he got what he wanted.
Sometimes she hated being right.
Cindy sat in Nathan’s family room with her feet up and looked at two of her three best friends, Harlow Marcelli and Mary Frances Bird. Whitney Davenport, a medical technician at the hospital, had to work because the lab was short-staffed. She was counting on her friends to fill her in on what the heck was going on.
The two who were present hadn’t told her that, but Cindy knew. The four of them had met at the hospital’s new-hire orientation. Though they all worked in completely different departments, the click of friendship had been instant. Since then, the other three women had pulled Cindy through heartbreak and the financial fiasco that followed. She’d been there for the others during crises of dating, declining parent health and anything else they needed. Now she had to explain to them the unexplainable—how she’d gotten pregnant and why she’d kept it to herself.
This morning Mary Frances had called Cindy’s cell and demanded to know why she hadn’t been at work. She and Harlow had gone to her house, which, of course, was empty. They were worried. Cindy had given her Nathan’s address and invited them over for in-person details. This wasn’t a quick, cell-call kind of conversation. Nathan was at work and Shirley had gone to a candle-making class at the astrology store.
The time had come to confess all.
Cindy sat in the corner of the big, L-shaped sofa with her friends on either side of her. “So, how have you guys be
en? What’s new?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Mary Frances was a petite, auburn-haired Labor and Delivery nurse at the hospital. She and Cindy were the same size, and the fundraiser dress had been borrowed from her.
“Okay. Before we start, anyone want water, soda, juice or coffee? You guys hungry?”
“Yeah. For information. What is going on? Whose house is this? And when can I move in, too?” Mary Frances’s blue eyes held equal parts of humor and confusion.
Harlow tucked a shoulder-length strand of shiny brown hair behind her ear. Green eyes that missed nothing were narrowed. “I think I can answer the who question. But the why is still a mystery.”
Mary Frances slid forward. The seat of the couch was so deep, if she scooted back, her legs stuck straight out in front of her. She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “Someone please start filling in the blanks because I’m clueless here.”
“This is Dr. Steele’s house, isn’t it?” Harlow tapped her lip. “Oh, wait, he asked you to call him Nathan.”
“What? When did this happen? How come you know and I don’t?” Mary Frances glared at both of them. In spite of her small size, she looked fierce enough to do great bodily harm.
“Harlow knows because she was in the NICU working on a baby and picked up on some vibes,” Cindy explained.
“So, she’s right? This is Nathan Steele’s house? You didn’t win ten million dollars playing Megabucks?”
“No, I didn’t win money. Yes, it’s his house.”
“How come you didn’t tell me about this?”
Harlow shrugged at the accusing look. “You’ve been busy. I’ve been busy. And I didn’t know Cindy moved in with him. What’s up with that, anyway? I guess you finally gave him your phone number. Or went out with him. Or both.” She looked around the beautiful, spacious room that could be from a photo shoot in Decorator’s Digest. “I’d say he got both.”
“Please tell me her imagination is on crack and she’s gone to the bad place for no good reason.”
“I can’t.” Cindy glanced at both her friends. “I’m pregnant and he’s the father.”
Harlow didn’t shock easily, but she was now. “That’s a place my imagination didn’t even consider.”
“No way.” Mary Frances shook her head. “It’s a joke, right? You guys think I’m gullible, but I’m not falling for it. You know better than to do something like that.”
“I’m not kidding,” Cindy confirmed. “And you both are a little bit to blame.”
“Someone needs to learn how to take responsibility for her own actions.” Harlow tsk-tsked.
Mary Frances stared at her. “How do you figure this is our fault?”
“You guys did too good a job styling me for that dinner I won the raffle ticket for.”
“What?”
“Steele didn’t recognize her,” Harlow explained. “She made him guess where he’d seen her before, but he drew a blank. Then she ran out of the ball and he only caught up with her because the heel on my shoe broke.”
Mary Frances pointed at them. “Do either of you see the parallel here?”
“What are you talking about?” Harlow demanded.
“Fairy tales. Cinderella.” She nodded emphatically. “Am I right?”
“He’s a doctor, not Prince Charming,” Cindy said. “And he doesn’t believe in love, so that ball had nothing to do with him finding a wife.”
“But we digress.” Harlow looked at each of them to get their attention. “He bugged her for her phone number and I advised her to let him call but dodge everything else. Bob and weave until he got bored and turned his attention elsewhere. Clearly that didn’t happen. Which begs the question. How did you get from giving him your phone number to… You know.”
“Sex?” Cindy clarified.
“Yeah,” they both answered.
“It started with dinner at an Italian place—”
“Not Capriotti’s.” Mary Frances slid a knowing look to their friend.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Doesn’t matter. Go on.”
What did they know that she didn’t? Cindy wondered. Although it wasn’t really important because the final outcome was the same. “There was candlelight, flowers, wine and food.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” Harlow was their token skeptic.
“So you got swept away. I understand that. But what about birth control?” So spoke the Labor and Delivery nurse who every day saw the result of planned and unplanned pregnancies.
“The condom malfunctioned.” Cindy shrugged.
“That explains getting pregnant,” Harlow said. “But why are you here in his house?”
“I had cramps and some spotting. The obstetrician said stress can sometimes be a factor. She ordered me to stay off my feet for a few weeks.”
“You have a bed at your house,” Mary Frances reminded her.
“Nathan watched over me and refused to leave. He’s too big to throw out and there was no bed for him. So I agreed to move in here temporarily. It’s really sweet when you think about it.”
“Don’t go there,” Harlow warned. “I know that look.”
“She’s right. It’s the soft and gooey expression. The one that happens just before you throw caution to the wind,” Mary Frances said knowingly.
“I’m not throwing caution anywhere.” Cindy folded her arms over her chest.
“Oh, really?” Mary Frances lifted one auburn eyebrow. “You’re not the first woman he’s taken to Capriotti’s.”
“I never said I was. That was obvious when he was on a first-name basis with the waiter. Who also knew his favorite wine.” Cindy blew out a breath. “Look, you guys. I appreciate your concern. Really. But it happened. It was an accident and he’s taking responsibility. That’s all this is about. He’s helping out. For now.”
She didn’t need her friends to warn her not to count on anything but today. She warned herself enough for both of them.
“Why is it that you didn’t come to us for help?” There was challenge and a little hurt in Mary Frances’s blue eyes.
It was a very good question. Cindy wasn’t sure she had an answer. She shrugged. “It happened fast. I knew there was a chance of pregnancy, but really what were the odds? Then I did the test and figured Nathan should be the first to know. And I was pretty freaked out. I guess I felt stupid about it all. Please say I’m forgiven.”
“Of course.” Harlow patted Cindy’s knee. “What are friends for? Show me a woman and I’ll show you someone who’s made a big mistake with a man at one time or another.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to compound the situation by falling for him.” Mary Frances patted her other knee. “Don’t go gooey. Stay tough. Get an attorney.”
“She’s right,” Harlow agreed. “It’s a well-known fact that Nathan Steele is a good doctor but a bad boyfriend.”
Cindy nodded. “I’m well aware of his flaws.”
“Then our work here is done.” Mary Frances looked at her tummy and smiled, a soft and tender expression on her elfin face. “So we’re going to be aunts?”
“Yeah.” Cindy put a hand on her abdomen. “Can you believe there’s a little someone in here?”
“We’ll throw you a baby shower,” her friend said.
And talk turned to babies, night feedings, dirty diapers and how her life was going to change. As if she needed the reminder. Everything had turned upside down the night Nathan noticed her.
As they chatted, Cindy figured out why she’d kept this to herself for as long as possible. She knew her friends would give her a reality check, bring her down to earth. Part of her didn’t want to feel the thud. The same part that wanted to stay in the land of denial. But she couldn’t hang out there anymore. Past mistakes had taught her she could take care of herself, but it was comforting to know her friends cared. It had been stupid to hold back, and they’d forgiven her without question. They would be there for her.
Their loyalty included re
minding her of the truth: Nathan was an exceptional and brilliant doctor. He was also a bad boyfriend. It was up to Cindy to get over the if-only-that-could-be-different feeling.
Chapter Ten
“I don’t cook and Nathan would not be happy if I let you do it.” Shirley sat down on the family room sofa and set a big, fat Las Vegas directory on her lap. “I can, however, dial the phone. What kind of food are you craving?”
“Don’t go to any trouble. I’m happy with a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” Cindy protested.
In spite of the resolve her friends had instigated just yesterday, she realized a lot of that sandwich appeal had to do with Nathan making and eating it with her. She needed a refresher course in not setting herself up for a letdown.
“I had a thing for peanut butter and pickles during my pregnancy with Nathan.” Shirley’s smile was small and sad. “But as delicious as that all sounds, I think a meal is the way to go. What about Chinese?”
“I like it.” Although not right now, she thought.
“That was distinctly lacking in enthusiasm.” The other woman studied her. “I don’t have to read your astrological chart to know you’re humoring me. Mexican?”
Just the mention of spicy made her stomach lurch. She put a hand on her abdomen. “Probably not.”
“Italian?”
That brought back images of candlelight and atmosphere the night this baby was conceived. Whatever happened, it would always be a lovely memory.
Before she could respond, Shirley said, “We have a winner.”
“How did you know?”
The older woman tilted her head and tapped her lip, never taking her eyes off Cindy. “You just got this look on your face. All soft and sort of glowy.”
If she was that easy to read, The World Series of Poker was out of the question.
“What would you like?” Shirley was flipping through the phone book.
“I guess fettuccine alfredo.”
“Coming right up. I’ll make the call. There’s a place not far away that delivers.” Shirley stood and started to walk away, then stopped. “When Nathan called, he said he’d be home in a little while. I’ll get something for him, too. What does he like?”
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