Diagnosis: Daddy

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Diagnosis: Daddy Page 12

by Gina Wilkins


  “I don’t know, but I could ask her.” Mia wasn’t sure how Alexis would feel about that, especially in light of the nightmares that troubled her occasionally.

  “I told McKenzie that her friends might be a little nervous about sleeping away from home for the first time, but she seems convinced that Alexis and Kayla will both be fine. McKenzie’s not exactly timid,” she added wryly.

  Mia laughed. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Well, anyway, ask Alexis how she feels about the sleepover and I’ll ask Kayla’s mom to do the same. We can always just have a regular party if the girls prefer.”

  Obviously McKenzie and Alexis had already been discussing the sleepover, Mia realized when she broached the subject on the way home.

  “We’re going to play dress up. And board games. And McKenzie has a dog named Sookie that she said we can play with.”

  Mia glanced away from the road long enough to study Alexis’s face in the rearview mirror. “You want to have a sleepover with McKenzie?”

  “Oh, yes. McKenzie said it would be the funnest birthday party ever.”

  “You don’t think you’d be afraid, sleeping away from home?”

  Alexis shrugged. “I’ve slept in lots of places. I think it would be fun.”

  Mia kept forgetting just how much Alexis had experienced in such a short lifetime. “We’ll ask your dad. If it’s okay with him, then it’s fine with me. And you can always call if you want to come home early. Either one of us will be happy to come after you.”

  “Okay. But McKenzie said we can have chocolate doughnuts with sprinkles for breakfast.”

  Not the healthiest breakfast, but Mia supposed it would be okay for a special occasion. She suspected that Alexis would come home from the sleepover a bit sleep-deprived and on a sugar high, but that wasn’t so bad either. She had fond memories of a few silly sleepovers of her own. “I’ll let you borrow my camera, if you like, and you can take pictures.”

  “That would be fun.”

  Connor was a little skeptical about the idea of a sleepover at first. “We don’t really know these people, do we?” he asked Mia. “Are you sure she’d be safe there?”

  Secretly amused by his sudden overprotectiveness, Mia assured him, “I’ve met Connie several times at dance class now. She’s very nice and I can tell she’s a good mother to McKenzie. I’m sure Alexis would be fine there for one night. But if you’re not comfortable with the idea…”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to keep Alexis from having fun with her friends. It just seems kind of soon to be having sleepovers. But if you think it’s okay—”

  “I think it would be okay. But I’ll make it clear that she can come home at any time if she changes her mind, even in the middle of the night.”

  “Absolutely. I’d go get her myself.”

  Alexis, however, seemed to have no qualms about the plans. The following Friday, Mia drove her to McKenzie’s house where Alexis was greeted by two giggling first-graders and a yipping puppy.

  “You’re going to have your hands full,” Mia said to Connie as the girls dashed off toward McKenzie’s room to stash Alexis’s little pink overnight bag.

  Waving a hand to indicate the birthday decorations and snacks she’d prepared for the party, Connie smiled bravely. “I’m ready. I’ve got stacks of DVDs and games and crafts and party favors ready for them. That should entertain them for a few hours, anyway.”

  Giving Connie a sheet of paper with several phone numbers written on it, Mia urged her not to hesitate to call at any hour if Alexis needed anything.

  “She’ll be fine,” Connie assured her as several laughing squeals echoed from another room. “Thank you for letting her come.”

  Telling herself that Alexis was in good hands, Mia drove back to Connor’s house. His car wasn’t in the carport, so he was probably with his study group. It appeared as though she had a Friday night on her own. The house seemed very still and empty when she entered, tossing her keys onto a kitchen counter. Maybe she should have made plans with Natalie for tonight, she mused. She wondered if it was too late.

  Before she could decide whether she even wanted to try, Connor arrived. “Did you already take Alexis to her sleepover?” he asked, glancing around the quiet living room.

  She nodded. “She couldn’t wait to get there. I think she’s going to have a great time.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess.”

  Smiling a little, Mia nodded. “Yes. That’s a good thing.”

  He bent to pick up a small, floppy doll that had been dropped on the floor beside the couch. “It already seems a little strange not to have her here,” he said, setting the doll on the coffee table.

  “Yes, it does. At least you should be able to study without interruption this evening.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair, looking as though he’d made a sudden decision. “You know what? I could use a night off. Why don’t you and I go out to eat? See a movie, maybe? Unless you have other plans?”

  Pleased, she smiled. “No, I don’t have other plans.”

  “So, how about it? Want to go out for a grown-up night?”

  “I’d like that very much.” It had been ages since they’d done anything together like this. And she was convinced the night out would do Connor a world of good. She worried about burnout when all he did was study.

  He grinned. “Meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes?”

  Laughing, she nodded. “It’s a date.”

  A date. Standing in her room a few moments later with her hairbrush in hand, Mia was suddenly struck by her own wording. It was just a figure of speech, of course, so she shouldn’t be having second thoughts about what she’d said. She and Connor had spent countless evenings hanging out with each other and with their friends from work during the past few years. Just because they lived in the same house now shouldn’t mean anything else had changed between them.

  Because they’d both eaten late lunches and weren’t yet hungry, they decided to see an early movie, then dine afterward. They chose a comedy that had been out for a few weeks and had received good reviews. Mia put her cell phone on vibrate during the film. She noticed that Connor did the same. Was he, too, deliberately staying available for Alexis’s sake?

  The movie was as funny as promised, and they both laughed frequently. Mia was able to enjoy the silliness and Connor’s company, being distracted by thoughts of Alexis only once every ten minutes or so. She couldn’t help glancing at her watch a couple of times, wondering how things were going at McKenzie’s house, hoping Alexis was having fun, that she would be able to sleep without having one of her nightmares.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Connor murmured, catching her checking the time again during the last few minutes of the film.

  Dropping her arm, Mia focused on the screen, a little embarrassed about being caught fretting. She must have been pretty obvious because Connor had known exactly what was going through her mind.

  They chose a popular, reasonably priced Chinese chain restaurant for dinner after the movie. The restaurant, located in a shopping center not far from Connor’s house, was crowded, as always on a Friday night. They had to stand in a rather long line to order, but were fortunate enough to find a table immediately in the back corner of the dining area. Sharing an order of salted edamame as an appetizer, they discussed the film, concluding that it had been fun, if not classic cinema. They’d both needed a laugh, they agreed. A couple of hours of mindless entertainment.

  Their orders arrived and they concentrated for a moment on twirling soba noodles onto chopsticks. And then Mia remembered something cute Alexis had said when she’d picked her up at school that afternoon. Which led to another anecdote and then another. By the time they’d finished their meals, she realized that they’d talked about nothing but Alexis since their food had been served.

  What had they talked about before she’d entered their lives? “Um, how’s everyone in your study group?” she asked, unable to come up with another sp
ur-of-the-moment topic.

  He grimaced. “Everyone needs a rest,” he admitted. “Christmas break can’t get here soon enough.”

  “A little tension among the group?”

  “A little. Everyone’s tired and stressed. Ron and Haley seem to be especially getting on each other’s nerves. I really hope they can get past that. We’ve all studied so well together to this point.”

  “Lack of sleep compounded by the pressure of constant testing has to be nerve-wracking. It’s no wonder if some of them get a little cranky every once in a while.”

  “Cranky?” he repeated with a slight grin. “They aren’t schoolkids, Mia.”

  She laughed. “I figure one student is pretty much like another, no matter what age. And from my experience, students get cranky.”

  “You’re probably right. I think we’re all getting cranky. We had a classwide counseling session yesterday. They made us sit through another speaker who told us to get plenty of rest, cut back on the drinking, balance our studies with family and recreation and visit the counseling center if we start feeling overwhelmed.”

  “Sounds like good advice.”

  “Yeah, sure it is. Of course, even as they’re advising us to rest and spend time doing something other than studying, they’re piling on more lectures and slides and assignments for us to memorize and regurgitate on endless exams. And reminding us that if we don’t do well, we’ll wash out or we won’t get into a decent residency program. And if we don’t remember all we’re learning for the Step One exam next year, we’re screwed, anyway.”

  She could see the tension building in him again as he spoke, the lines deepening around his eyes and mouth. Had those lines been there before he started medical school? She didn’t remember. “You can do this, Connor,” she said quietly.

  He exhaled gustily and reached for his water glass. After taking a sip, he set the glass down and said, “We were told that something like ninety-nine percent of all medical students seriously consider quitting med school during the first two years. That number didn’t surprise me in the least.”

  “I think that’s to be expected. I’ve heard that most grad students think about dropping out at some point, too. Probably when it all just seems to get harder and harder and feels as though it will never end.”

  He tilted his head and gave her a faint smile. “I’m whining again, aren’t I?”

  Grinning, she gave a little shrug. “I understand it’s a common symptom with first-year medical students.”

  “It occurs to me,” he said as he drove toward his house a few minutes later, “that we’ve talked about my daughter and my med school complaints tonight. We’ve talked very little about you.”

  She laughed lightly. “That’s because there’s very little to say. I haven’t done anything particularly exciting lately.”

  “Because you’ve been so busy taking care of Alexis. And me.”

  She shook her head in response to his rueful comment. “No. I haven’t been turning down thrilling opportunities because of either of you. You know how it is this time of year at work—moving closer to the end of the semester, getting the juniors ready for the PSATs and the seniors for their AP tests, endless meetings and paperwork.”

  “I remember.” He sounded almost wistful. “Still,” he said as he guided the car into his carport, “I want you to feel free to have fun with your friends when you have the chance. Don’t turn down any invitations because of Alexis and me. We’ll manage.”

  “I won’t,” she promised. She saw no reason to add that she’d had no invitations recently that had been more appealing than an evening with Alexis and Connor.

  Connor closed the kitchen door behind them, tossing his keys into the small basket he kept on the counter for that purpose. He stood for a moment in the middle of the kitchen floor, his expression hard to read, and then he gave her a crooked smile. “Funny, isn’t it, how different the house feels now without Alexis in it?”

  She smiled. “However did we entertain ourselves before she arrived?”

  “I vaguely remember some heated games of Scrabble. Want me to get out the board?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. Connor really was taking a break from studying tonight. They hadn’t played Scrabble since he’d started medical school. “I’d like that, if you have time.”

  “I’ll make time.”

  “I’ll put on the kettle for tea.”

  “Sounds good,” he said, moving toward the living room.

  Inordinately pleased with the way the evening was progressing, Mia found herself humming beneath her breath as she filled the kettle.

  “Malar?” Mia studied Connor skeptically over the Scrabble board. “Is that really a word?”

  “It is. It means ‘referring to the cheek.’” He smugly wrote down his score, making sure to note that the M sat on a double-word square.

  She sighed gustily. “No fair using medical terminology.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who added qua to the beginning of my train,” he reminded her. “Quatrain—that’s a literary term, isn’t it? If you can use your work jargon, I can use mine.”

  “No fair using impeccable logic, either,” she grumbled, making him laugh.

  She stood, picking up her empty teacup as she rose. “Would you like another cup of herbal tea? Something to eat, maybe?”

  “No, I’m good, thanks.” He stood and stretched, feeling muscles that seemed to always be in knots these days loosen with the movement.

  Mia returned empty-handed. She must have changed her mind about another cup of tea for herself. She studied him as he stood in mid-stretch. “You look relaxed.”

  He lowered his arms and flexed his neck experimentally. “Yeah. Feel pretty good, actually. I guess I did need a night off.”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

  “You were right, as always.” On an impulse, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a friendly hug. “Thanks for helping me unwind tonight.”

  She returned the hug lightly. “I’ve enjoyed it, too.”

  She felt good against him. Warm and soft and very feminine. She never wore strong perfumes, but he detected just the faintest scent of roses. Shampoo? Lotion? Whatever it was, he liked it.

  He didn’t want to let her go.

  After a moment, she looked up at him rather quizzically. “Connor?”

  The lipstick she’d applied earlier had long since worn off, yet her lips were still rosy and moist. They were slightly parted in question, giving him just a glimpse of teeth and tongue.

  He swallowed.

  She must have picked up on the emotions suddenly running through him. Her eyes narrowed and darkened, and she moistened her lips in a subconscious gesture that made his abdomen tighten even more. A low groan wedged in his throat.

  “Connor?” she said again, her voice little more than a whisper this time.

  Maybe later he would come up with a good excuse for his actions. At least an explanation. But for now…

  He lowered his head and captured her mouth with his.

  Chapter Eight

  It wasn’t their first kiss, exactly. They’d always had a warm, touchy friendship, sharing hugs and quick kisses easily and casually.

  This was different.

  Mia gripped Connor’s shirt for support as the world started to spin around her, shifting into a new reality in which nothing would ever be quite the same for her. For them.

  There was an enhanced physical awareness in this kiss. Desire. Was this a new development, or had it been there between them all along, carefully smothered beneath layers of caution and hard-earned wariness?

  Even as his mouth moved on hers, she noted the firmness of his arms around her, the breadth of his chest, the warmth of his skin. She felt him shift against her and became instantly aware that he was aroused by the embrace. By her.

  Somehow her hand had become tangled in his hair. She’d stroked that hair before, patted it teasingly, smoothed it into place. Why, now, did it f
eel so much more intimate to have her fingers buried in its soft depths?

  His slight five o’clock shadow was pleasantly rough against her face when he tilted his head to adjust the angle of the kiss. Masculine and appealing. A tug of response came from deep inside her, bringing with it heat and hunger. Even as she wonderingly catalogued all those reactions, all those observations, her body moved without conscious direction, fitting itself more snugly to his, burrowing into his heat and his strength.

  Her lips parted. His tongue plunged. Her heart stuttered. His arms tightened.

  Their gasps sounded in unison when he tore his mouth from hers. Feeling her cheeks burning, her chest heaving, she stared up at him in shock and uncertainty, having no idea what to say next. How she should handle this development.

  He looked as lost as she felt. His eyes were narrowed, navy darkened to near-black, and there was a faint flush of heat on his cheeks and throat. His hair, rumpled by her hands, fell onto his forehead. He looked…

  He looked so damned sexy that it was all she could do not to drag him to the nearest horizontal surface, she realized with another jolt of startled hunger.

  Something had definitely changed between them during the past ten minutes. And she wondered on a wave of nerves if they would ever be able to go back to where they’d been before. If not…then where did that leave them?

  He cleared his throat. “That was…”

  Amazing? A mistake? A momentary lapse of insanity? She waited for him to fill in the pause.

  “Unexpected,” he said with a wry quirk of his lips. “I didn’t plan it.”

  “Neither did I.” Her voice was just faintly hoarse to her ears; she wondered if he heard it, too.

  “I think I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  She lifted an eyebrow in response to his rather sheepish confession. “You think?”

  “I know I have. Are you mad at me?”

 

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