My Forbidden Doctor: A Secret Baby Medical Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  Against my palm, Mel sighed with relief, but that very action ended in a soft, wet cough.

  "Are you feeling any tightness or pressure right now?"

  "A little. Ever since the elevator..."

  Guilt clawed at my throat, and I dropped my hand to resume my seat on the stool. Melissa dragged her wavy locks over her shoulder, revealing her slender shoulders. Now that she wasn't wearing a jacket, it was obvious how delicate her frame was.

  "I mean— I'm not irresponsible about my asthma, so telling me to be more cautious is kinda redundant. I'm already careful."

  "Have you done a sleep study?"

  She shook her head.

  I hummed softly as I clasped my hands between my knees. "I'll write you a referral for one, and when we get the results back, we'll see what to do about a CPAP. Sound good?"

  "How long will it take?" Eagerness tilted Mel's voice.

  I inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. "Once you do the tests, I'll have the results back a few days after. It's a bit of an adventure, but it should help determine the severity of your attacks. Then, it's just a matter of trying to tame your allergies. Have you been to an allergist since the onset of your symptoms?"

  I had the feeling Melissa was tired of doctors when she nodded again, and I arched a brow quizzically. Licking her thin lips, her delicate, birdlike face tinged with annoyance. If she weren't my patient, I'd try to make good on that lie about our date tonight.

  I mean, it wasn't like I could pass her off to my partner because I didn't have one right now. Transferring here by request meant being the only pulmonologist for this rich town's only hospital. True to small-town nature, there weren't many on-call specialists, and some patients actually had to be referred out to bigger, more equipped hospitals.

  Eva was a pediatric ears, nose, and throat doctor who took one look at me and decided to make my life Hell with her 'affection'. The irony there was the fact that this was an old, rich town without many kids. She had told me that she liked this town because it was easy, but I couldn't help thinking she was just negligent. Who becomes a doctor for an 'easy' job?

  Shaking my head at the distraction, I reached to grab Melissa's folder again to flip through it. Above the thick edge of the manila, she frowned as she got lost in her own thoughts.

  Saint Benedict's Hospital had a hard enough time poaching me after my residency, so the chances of me getting a partner soon were slim. When Melissa showed me her card, it hadn't even said my name because I was so new. I shared the office with an allergist, but he wasn't even here today— a fact I'd forgotten when I bumped into Melissa downstairs.

  "So... is that all we're going to do today?"

  The question caught me off guard, and I glanced up as Melissa's eyes widened a little.

  "Not that I wanted to go on the date tonight, even though I do... I mean— I'm... here, for my appointment...?"

  Trailing off, her porcelain skin turned beet red, hiding her thick smattering of freckles. Melissa was invested, though, keeping eye contact even as mortification flickered in her green orbs. Smiling slightly, I couldn't even remember the last time I felt flattered by a woman, and I closed her file to clear my throat pointedly. Warmth suffused my chest when she perked up, but as cute as she was, I'd spent countless hours being pounded in the head with ethics.

  "Unfortunately, you're my patient, Melissa, so I'd rather not complicate things. Going on a date with a patient is an ethics violation under my contract. Lying about it earlier wasn't a problem because I wasn't your doctor, but now..."

  She actually looked a little disappointed, and my cheek twitched as I pursed my lips thinly. Damn. The moment I opened Melissa's chart, before I even put two and two together, I'd realized my mistake.

  "But, yes. That's all we're going to do for today. I won't need you to come back in until after you do your sleep study to discuss it and get you a machine, if needed."

  "Oh, okay. Should I make an appointment now?" Even though Mel was a new patient, our appointment had been very straightforward. She knew what didn't work, what she wanted to try, and had a pretty clear understanding of her body.

  Standing up, I shook my head a little before she picked her purse off her lap to shoulder the braided, black strap.

  "You can call the office after you've done the test. I'll send the referral to the hospital by the end of the day tomorrow, so all you have to do is call to schedule it." Tucking her folder under my arm, I walked the short distance to the door as she nodded in agreement. Waiting for her to hop off the exam table, I cocked my head when she reached a thin hand to sweep back her hair from her face.

  "This is a small town, you know."

  Instantly, a sourness coated my tongue, and that gentle warmth hugging my sternum flared violently. Melissa's eyes met mine, but she simply cleared her throat lightly and pulled her hair over her shoulder.

  "Yeah. It is. And there's not many bars. Especially not by the waterside over near Docklands Street."

  Crap. Why'd I have to go open my mouth? Sluggishly opening the door, I gestured Melissa out first, and my quiet office hallways closed in on me. Unlike Eva, Mel didn't need to do anything at all to sway her plump, tight ass, and I clenched my jaw hard.

  When Mel turned right to head to the reception area, I wordlessly turned left into my office. Tossing her file on my desk, I raked both my hands through my hair roughly and blew out a hard breath. When I closed my eyes and flopped my head back, I could see the bold outline in my contract. Illicit fraternization with patients will lead to termination without warning or exception.

  "Shit."

  Chapter 3

  Melissa

  Sucking on my inhaler, I leaned on the back of the chair and clutched my chest with my free hand. My eyes watered a seemingly endless stream of tears down my cheeks, and dizziness swirled behind my shuttered lids. This was my penance for being stupid with Carl at my appointment earlier, I knew.

  Clenching and releasing my jaw, my teeth ached as I wheezed vicious, shallow breaths. Why'd I have to do something so stupid as tempt Carl when he'd already made a very valid point? His reasoning was beyond sound, and I shouldn't have been so suggestive about going to a bar to 'accidentally' bump into him.

  This was my punishment— a pretty bad asthma attack and sinuses the size of friggin shelled walnuts.

  "Ugh..." Panting shortly, my tight chest threatened to concave on itself as I sank against the table. My hands shook as I struggled to open my purse, and goosebumps blanketed my entire body. The gentle, warm breeze of early April rustled my hair, and the salt of the ocean helped ease the pressure on my nose a bit.

  "Are you okay, Mel?"

  My dad's question earned him a fierce glare, and I huffed a ragged breath. He'd insisted we go out to dinner tonight, in an open air, patio-based restaurant on the pier, and refused to listen to me about why that was a terrible idea. His balding head tinted pink in embarrassment, and he tugged his shirt a little in discomfort.

  "Sorry. Stupid question."

  "The stupid thing was making me come here, Dad. You know my asthma's really bad right now because of my allergies. Not to mention... everything you do, you find a reason or a way to make it cost money. You know, sometimes it'd be nice to just make dinner and eat together at my place." I could tell by the look in his eye that my dad was going to ignore the money part of my complaining.

  He never wanted to talk about his reckless spending. If he weren't the only mechanic in this rich, posh town on the ocean, he'd probably be in a huge amount of debt long ago. Frowning darkly across the table, I sniffled harshly and pulled a tissue out of my purse. Dabbing my eyes, I struggled to breathe through my clogged nose as my father sat back to cross his arms over his chest.

  "Well, sorry I want to spend time with you, Mel."

  Groaning loudly, I pressed my palms on the table forcefully. Eyes on us raised the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck, but I really wasn't in the mood to deal with my dad's attempt to turn the conversation aroun
d. Glaring through bleary, throbbing eyes, I scowled nastily as uncertainty flickered across his pudgy face.

  "You know what, Dad— you try to turn everything around on me without acknowledging the fact that this is your fault!" My heart ached as I practically shouted at my dad, drawing all the attention in this small bar-slash-restaurant's patio. "Are you just going to ignore the fact that I'm suffering through an asthma attack right now because you dragged me here? I told you when you suggested this place that my allergies were making my asthma unbearable, and yet— here we are! On the patio! During the worst time for me! And for what? Because you want to spend time with me?"

  Wheezing viciously, I could feel my lungs shrinking from the strain of my own talking. I couldn't breathe, and my face burned as my dad's jaw hit his collar bone at my outburst. His embarrassed blush intensified when he noticed my shouting drawing attention, and he sat up and tried to speak up. My dad only managed to open his mouth, but nothing came out when the waitress came zooming over in her smart, tucked uniform.

  "Would you like some help inside?" The horrible thing about it was that I loved this restaurant. Whenever I was in town, I always got a hankering for this place, and I was forever grateful I didn't have any food allergies. Right in that moment, I couldn't remember the waitress' name, but I recognized her face when I glanced up. She looked concerned, kinda peeved, and I wheezed through a breath before nodding. My brain rattled against my skull, and she held my arm to help me stand as dizziness threatened to knock me over.

  "There's a small step." Gingerly putting her arm around me, the waitress held my forearm firmly, and I managed a slightly deeper, shuddering breath. "Do you need to go to the hospital? Are you okay?"

  "I'll be fine..." Honestly, I felt like I was going to suffocate, but the second I crossed the threshold, some of the tightness in my chest eased. Blinking hard to clear my vision, I stumbled a little over my own heels over the step the waitress had just warned me about. "Can I have some water?"

  "Of course." Sitting me at a booth, the woman disappeared behind the bar, and I held my throbbing head in both my hands. I should've told my father 'no'; he had absolutely no problem being an ass about what I wanted to do or enjoyed. Why couldn't I do the same? Because he'll make a stink of it for weeks.

  No wonder my mom drank herself to death. If he weren't my dad, I wouldn't want anything to do with him.

  "Ugh..." Rubbing my nose between my thumbs, guilt rose in my blocked throat at that thought. My last memory of my mom blossomed between my throbbing brain and my eye sockets, and my grimace darkened. She'd made a lot of money as a financial consultant, but the stress drove her to drinking. I knew some of it had to be my dad being unfaithful, too. Truthfully, I wasn't the best teenager, either. Really, a conglomerate of issues with no one person to blame.

  I'd grown up living in Buffalo, New York, constantly complaining about wanting to travel with my friends. My mom was hesitant to let me, but there were some experiences she couldn't say 'no' to. High school graduation meant going to Disney World in Orlando. I took Spanish in school and went to Mexico for a week with my class.

  Lo and behold, all it took was a particularly stressful day for us both to send her wrapping her car around a building. Bitterness stained my tongue, and I managed a fairly deep breath through my nose.

  'It'd be nice if you didn't come home sloshed, you know.' Those were the last words I'd ever said to my mom, my voice tinged with disappointment. It'd become so infuriating when she'd stumble in from work already tipsy, a fresh bottle of wine under her arm. A daily struggle.

  But I knew it was my dad's cheating that pushed my mom over the edge. I was seventeen when he stepped out on the screwed-up notion that I was too old to be affected like a little kid would.

  He'd never even apologized, my dad. Never told me he'd be a better parent now that I only had one. Never expressed any guilt for the blow out fight that led my mom to drive drunk.

  "Melissa? Are you okay?"

  Even right now, his concern isn't the person's I hear. Lifting my blurry gaze to Carl, I sniffled through my clogged sinuses as I waved my hand in dismissal. His dark eyes darkened at my messy face, but I was just exhausted as I lowered my head onto my arms on the table.

  "Do you want some company?"

  "Sure— it's not like my dad will come apologize. He's probably already left because he's a coward." Scrunching up my nose in disgust, I forced my tight muscles to sit up while Carl slid into the opposite side of the booth. "You here for dinner?"

  "Yes. I'm far too lazy to cook after the encounter I had at my car."

  I was kinda glad for the distraction, and the waitress returned with a pitcher of ice water. She gave me extra napkins, and brown eyes cast me one more, concerned look before she pulled her little notepad out of her apron.

  "What can I get you this evening?"

  I knew the menu by heart, and in this moment, I was pretty glad the waitress handling most of the patio hadn't had a minute to take my and my father's orders.

  "Yeah. Um— can I get the salmon and poached egg on whole wheat, please. To-go if it's not a problem."

  The waitress bopped her head in a nod, casting a quizzical glance at Carl. He seemed a little flustered as he straightened, and I twiddled my thumbs under the table as the tremors in my hands started to die down.

  "I actually ordered to-go as well..." Sheepishly, Carl spoke up.

  I gnawed on my inner cheek absently. He's got nice lips.

  "Yeah, sure. Not a problem. Your name?" She scribbled down his reply before slipping her handful back in her apron, flashing us both a smile. "I'll be out with your food shortly."

  Skipping away, the waitress left Carl and me in a light silence, and I tapped my fingers against my bare knees.

  "What did you order?" His eyes met mine, and fire licked up my neck when they flashed with something undefinable. Propping his elbows on the table, Carl set his chin on laced fingers as he scanned my face.

  "I wish I had gotten here a few minutes before. As terrible as it sounds, seeing your attack would've given me something to go on concerning your treatment, Mel."

  Surprise raised my brows, and Carl frowned as the cogs worked between his thick lashes.

  "I don't want to sound insensitive, but if I had, it wouldn't have been for nothing, at the very least."

  "I'll make sure to call you next time. Assuming I'll be dumb enough to agree to go out with my dad and he pulls this again. At least I knew enough to drive myself here." Today had been a rollercoaster from 11 a.m. on, and I lowered my head once again to blow out a ragged wheeze. "I'm tired. I'm not even hungry at this point. I just want to go home and sleep."

  Carl didn't have a reply to that, and I really didn't expect him to. My dad, my allergies, my asthma attack... it all sucked the life right out of me. The only reason I ordered was because I had to eat something— anything.

  The idea made me kinda sick, though.

  Chapter 4

  Carl

  Mel: I'm home. I didn't crash or anything.

  Smiling at my phone, satisfaction bubbled in my veins, and I circled my thumbs over the screen. Melissa's text sagged my shoulders, the leather of the driver's seat becoming a little more comfortable.

  Carl: Good. I hope you have a pl—' Grunting lowly, I backspaced rapidly. 'I hope you have an easy night

  Tapping the Send arrow, I pulled my fish taco to my mouth and dropped my phone in the empty cup holder. After Melissa left my office, it was obvious that meeting up was the absolute wrong thing to do. She didn't expect to see me at this restaurant, and I had made the off-hand decision not to bother cooking tonight.

  Yet, we were pushed together coincidentally. I mean, she made plans with her dad rather than keep the suggestion from earlier. That was telling in itself.

  "Not that it matters but running into her was alright. If the aftermath of that asthma attack was anything to go by, Mel's got some really delicate lungs. Either that, or she's an easy crier. Or both..." Mumbli
ng to myself around my mouthful, I swallowed roughly and rested my head back to stare at the vizor. "She's my patient."

  While it wasn't exactly unethical to develop a romantic relationship with a patient, it was extremely taboo. I could lose my job, my reputation— no one would hire me, and that wasn't even considering the Ethical Conduct contract I had to sign to work for this hospital. That took it a few steps further, stating any hint of anything fishy would result in my being fired immediately.

  I couldn't lose this job. I'd only been in this position for a month. I was the only pulmonologist this hospital could get their hands on, and I had a responsibility not to screw it up.

  "... But man is she pretty." Those forbidden words rolled off my tongue like butter, and I tapped my feet against the floor of my car. I would never do anything unethical and risk my job over a fling. Being the only pulmonologist for this hospital only made me more important. "If only Eva weren't so pushy."

  My mumble soured my bite a little before I swallowed. Eva had been waiting for me, at my car, for God knows how long, to grill me about my supposed relationship with Melissa. She was practically shouting at me by the end, shivering, her frail body unable to cope with the anger that bashed around her bones.

  How a woman like Eva became a pediatrician, and a fairly successful one, was beyond me. I frowned as I stared at a stitch on the steering wheel, her red, twisted features flashing when I blinked. Real hurt saturated her blue eyes and ruffled her long, blonde hair, as if she had a reason to feel betrayed by me.

  Not once had I ever expressed any interest in Eva, and I'd told her several times that I wasn't attracted to her in any way. I didn't want the HR headache, but more practically, she wasn't my type. She was tall and slim, and I preferred women shorter than me. Let's not even bring up the fact that she's crazy.