His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

"They're both dead. You know that."

  She nodded. "I also know you raised your brother and sisters, but what were your folks like? Did they laugh a lot, get along with each other? Did your dad take you fishing, teach you how to change the oil in your car, or scold you if you stayed out too late?"

  He thought for a minute. "I remember Mom being happy all the time. She gave lots of hugs and baked the best peanut-butter cookies. She let me flatten them right out of the oven with a fork. If I had to describe her, I'd say she was more of a free spirit, artsy type."

  "She sounds wonderful."

  "Dad, on the other hand, was serious, although Mom always could get him to smile. He wasn't a talkative guy, but his love for us showed in the things he did and taught us. He always made time when we needed him. He was a good man, a hard worker, our biggest fan at baseball and football games, and he drilled responsibility into us. After his accident, I stepped into his shoes."

  "It sounds as if he had big shoes to fill."

  "To an eighteen year-old, they were huge. They still are, in fact."

  "Did Clay and your sisters balk at you being in charge?"

  "Not really. The girls had the usual teenage histrionics and angst, but my aunts helped me handle those episodes. Everything worked out in the end. We all earned college degrees, have good jobs, and didn't land in jail." He grinned. "Not bad, if I say so myself."

  "I'd have to agree." She threaded her arm through his as they strolled down the path. If their relaxed pace reflected his mood, then their near-Olympic sprint had been the perfect means to release some of his frustration.

  The cicadas sang louder and for several minutes Sabrina simply listened to the sounds of nature and enjoyed the sense of companionship she felt as she remained tucked against his side.

  The pastoral setting convinced her to bring up the subject he wanted to avoid. "What do you think of Alan Cavendish's chances?"

  Adrian tensed ever so slightly and if she hadn't been hanging onto his arm like a leech, she never would have known. "Not good."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  "You're a psychologist now?"

  "Just someone who's concerned about you."

  "Don't be. There's nothing either of us can say that will make a difference."

  From Adrian's flat tone, Alan Cavendish's diagnosis had clearly hit Adrian hard, either for the same reasons as hers or because his earlier test results hadn't indicated such a serious problem. Whatever the cause, she wanted to comfort a man who needed comforting but didn't want it.

  Sensing he wouldn't appreciate the usual platitudes, she simply held onto him and refused to let go. The cicadas' song faded into the background as she stroked Adrian's arm in an effort to soothe him when words seemed trite.

  "No, but it might make a difference to you. You must have a thought or an impression of some sort."

  He stopped. "My thoughts and impressions are my own."

  Once again he was shutting her out and she was slowly seeing a pattern. "Venting is better than bottling up your frustration. I, for one, am very frustrated and angry about the situation."

  He didn't answer, so she pressed on. "But, then, I have to ask myself, if we'd diagnosed him a week sooner, would it have made a difference? Would it?" she demanded.

  "Maybe. Maybe not," he admitted.

  "No matter what, you did your best."

  "Did I?" He turned a wounded gaze on her. "I turned him over to someone else so I could go home."

  "The evening physician is every bit as capable as you. He's the one who interpreted the results."

  "Last week's report stated 'No abnormalities found'," Adrian said. "This week the radiologist found the spot so he compared the two sets of scans. The lesion had been there all along."

  "Oh, dear."

  "No kidding."

  "Hindsight is always twenty-twenty," she told him.

  "The point is, whether a week would have made a difference or not, we shouldn't have made the mistake."

  "Maybe the radiologist was tired when he read the first set of pictures. Maybe he had a stack of films waiting and was in a hurry. Maybe he was interrupted and thought he'd come back to it and for some reason never did. Maybe the transcriptionist confused her cases. Who knows? There could be any number of extenuating circumstances. You weren't to blame."

  "I still feel somewhat responsible."

  "You can't take on the entire world, Adrian, even if you think you should. Did—?"

  "Can we talk about something else?" he asked impatiently. "A topic other than medicine?"

  Oh…damn it! She'd finally made progress but he'd clammed up before her eyes. Still, Rome wasn't built in a day…"If that's what you want."

  They'd come full circle and stopped in front of his building. As he hesitated, she asked, "Do you want another jaunt around the complex or should we go home?"

  "Come inside with me."

  He stood tall and stoic, waiting for her reply with a plea in his eyes. Immediately and without hearing specifics, she knew what he wanted. He could deny it with his last breath, but he was hurting and needed her to help him feel less subject to the whims of fate and more in control.

  She rose on tiptoe to brush a soft kiss against his mouth. "Last one in is a rotten egg."

  CHAPTER NINE

  ADRIAN'S apartment hadn't changed since she'd been here last, although now his belongings were noticeably absent. It still resembled a hotel and had that same, unaired, vacant quality, but at the moment she didn't care because it had one major point in its favor.

  Privacy.

  The minute the door closed behind her, he took her in his arms and kissed her with a starving-man greediness that caught her by surprise and raised her spirits. He wanted her.

  She tugged on his shirt as he did likewise, but before she could do more than unsnap his shorts, he'd hoisted her into the air. She gasped from the sudden weightlessness, only to realize he was carrying her into the bedroom.

  "We're going to do this right," he mumbled against her mouth.

  "The sofa would have…" she gasped as he nipped her neck "…been fine," she finished when she caught her breath.

  "Not this time."

  Somehow, without ever breaking contact, clothes disappeared and the comforter sailed onto the floor a few seconds before he followed her onto the slick, cool sheets and covered her body with his.

  He made love with a desperation she recognized and understood, giving of herself freely until he found his release. When it was over, when he'd collapsed on the sheets beside her, she simply snuggled against him.

  He flung one arm over his eyes. "I'm sorry."

  "What for?" she asked, although she knew.

  "I went too fast."

  "Am I complaining?"

  "No."

  "Then don't worry about it." She craned her neck to see his expression. "There's always next time."

  "True." He squeezed her arm.

  Deciding she could get away with asking a few questions now that he was relaxed and his defenses were down, she did. "Your dad didn't encourage you to show your emotions, did he?"

  "He wasn't a demonstrative sort, more of an introspective, quiet type. I've been told I take after him," he said wryly.

  "Oh, I don't know." She traced a circle on his chest. "You can be demonstrative and noisy on occasion. Like now. Or when you're with Jeremy."

  "That's different."

  "Is it?"

  "Of course it is. What patient wants to see their doctor blubbering all over him? People lose faith if I can't be objective."

  "True, but that doesn't mean you can't share your worries and concerns with someone. It isn't healthy to bottle all your feelings up inside. People aren't supposed to suffer alone."

  "Speaking of suffering…" he flipped her on top of him "…I have this ache."

  She felt his body's response and smiled. "How bad is it?"

  "Bad enough we'll have to take it slow and easy."

  She threaded her arms behind hi
s neck. "If you say so. I always follow doctor's orders."

  * * *

  "I'm worried about you," Kate told Sabrina on Sunday after she and Adrian had returned home from finishing their round of golf. Adrian had gone to the back yard so he could call Clay and enjoy an uninterrupted conversation.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Aren't you two getting rather chummy? He's only been in town for two weeks."

  Sabrina smiled, touched by her friend's concern. "I know, but—"

  "And, honestly, I wasn't snooping, but when I put Jeremy down for his nap, well…" she grimaced "…it's obvious he's moved in with you."

  "He has."

  "Oh, Sabrina." Kate's distress shone as brightly as a neon sign. "Aren't you rushing things? I mean, you're a single mom with a baby who hasn't celebrated his first birthday. Do you want to run the risk of having a second?"

  While Sabrina would dearly love Jeremy to have a sibling, she wasn't foolish enough to provide him with one within weeks of Adrian resurfacing in her life. "You worry too much."

  "Of course I do. That's what friends are for. Whatever you do," she begged, "don't forget the last guy you dated. He left you high and dry and—"

  "He's outside."

  Kate stopped short and blinked owlishly. "Who's outside?"

  "The guy who left me high and dry."

  She frowned. "Adrian's outside."

  Sabrina smiled. "Exactly."

  Understanding crept across Kate's features. "Oh. My. God. Are you telling me—?"

  "Yes."

  "The creep who ran out on you is the hospital's current heartthrob stud muffin?"

  Sabrina nodded. "That's him."

  Kate sank bonelessly onto the sofa. "Oh. My. God," she repeated. "You actually let him back into your life?"

  "I didn't have a choice. He is Jeremy's father."

  Kate stared at her, clearly stupefied. "I can't believe this."

  "It is rather unbelievable."

  "If we hadn't been through so much together, I wouldn't ask, but what happened?" Kate's eyes grew saucer-sized. "Please don't tell me you had a one-night stand."

  Sabrina perched on the edge of the recliner. "We were dating, rather seriously I thought, but our relationship fell apart after his brother landed in hospital." She told the entire story, beginning with Adrian's fatefully misguided decision to her arrival in Pinehaven.

  By the end, Kate was plainly stunned. "Oh, Sabrina. What are you going to do next?"

  Jeremy threw his ring of plastic keys on the floor and while Sabrina retrieved them, she pondered her answer.

  "I'm not sure." She hesitated. "He's asked me to marry him."

  Kate's gaze grew intent. "Is that what you want?"

  Sabrina shrugged as she balanced Jeremy on her lap and breathed in his baby scent.

  "Do you love him?"

  She didn't waver. "Yes. I almost wish I didn't, but I do."

  "And that means…?" Kate raised an eyebrow.

  "It means nothing," she said firmly. "My feelings are one-sided. Adrian doesn't love me."

  Kate frowned. "Are you sure?"

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Does the sun set in the west? Of course I'm positive."

  "So what are you going to do? It isn't wise to let him stay here."

  "From my perspective, it isn't," she agreed. "But he's good for Jeremy, so what else can I do? I'll just have to tolerate the situation for my son's sake."

  Kate rose. "I don't know, dearie. If you ask me, you're setting yourself up for a major meltdown, but whatever happens, I'm here for you."

  "Thanks, Kate. You're the best friend ever."

  The back door squeaked, followed by the squish of Adrian's tennis shoes on the linoleum floor. "Let me know if you have any problems with the situation we just discussed," Kate said as Adrian appeared in the living room. "One of my former patients comes from a family with mob connections. She had a difficult delivery and the grateful parents will be more than happy to do a favor for me." She glanced pointedly at Adrian.

  Sabrina smiled. "I'll keep it in mind."

  Kate leaned over and kissed Jeremy's head. "See you later, short stuff. Any time you need a sitter, let me know. And, Adrian…" her smile was too sweet. "Do you have a bulletproof vest?"

  His brow furrowed. "No, why?"

  "Just wondering," she said airily. "Take care and I'll see you later."

  "Mob connections and bulletproof vests?" Adrian asked with stunned curiosity as Kate walked toward her car. "What was that about?"

  "I think she was delivering a warning."

  "Why? What did I do?"

  "You moved in," she said wryly.

  "Ahh."

  "I also told her you were Jeremy's father."

  He nodded slowly. "Makes sense. She can finally put a name and a face to the 'dirty rotten scoundrel who left you high and dry when you were pregnant'," he said dryly.

  "I hate to agree, but yes."

  "I assume every move I make will be scrutinized from now on?"

  "Probably. Does it bother you?"

  He shrugged. "I have nothing to hide."

  "Things might be a little chilly for you at work," she said. "You should prepare yourself."

  "I can handle it."

  She didn't doubt it at all. Adrian had charmed the staff since he'd arrived, so a few might study him with curiosity and wariness, but he'd win them over again.

  "Did you get in touch with Clay?" she asked.

  "Yeah. He finally answered his phone." He held out his arms to Jeremy and the little scamp giggled and dove forward for Adrian to catch him.

  "How's he been?"

  Adrian sat on the sofa and laid Jeremy on his lap in order to tickle his tummy. "He claims he's fine. Said his stomach has been acting up the past few days. He thinks he contracted some sort of food poisoning from a little taco stand he visited."

  "Did he see a doctor?"

  He shook his head. "According to him, he's doing better."

  "Do you want to drive to Denver and check on him?" she asked. "It's early enough. We can."

  He looked thoughtful for moment. "I'd like to, but I know he'll get upset if I do." He grinned. "Who wants to have his big brother running over to check on him just because he has a stomachache and diarrhea?"

  She laughed as she sat beside her men. "Not the best time to have a visitor."

  "Exactly. I'll call him tomorrow. Maybe we could plan to drive to Denver next weekend. We both have four days off."

  She leaned over. "Hear that, Jeremy? You're going to have your first road trip."

  "We could make it a honeymoon." He sounded hopeful.

  "Why should we?" She didn't just want a good reason, she wanted the right reason.

  "I'm introducing Jeremy to my family. It would be nice to introduce my wife at the same time."

  Wrong answer. "Ah, the kill-two-birds-with-one-stone philosophy. Well, it would be nice if I won the lottery, too, but that isn't going to happen."

  "You're being stubborn." He spoke without rancor, almost as if he hadn't expected her to agree, but had felt obliged to ask…just in case.

  "I'm being prudent."

  "For how long?"

  "I try my best to always be prudent," she said primly, aware she hadn't answered his question.

  "I can't believe you won't do what's best for Jeremy." He spoke calmly, without any trace of surprise or anger, which indicated he was fishing.

  "Save your guilt trip," she advised. "Besides, I don't understand your rush. You're enjoying the perks of married life. You have a son, a pseudo-wife—and don't think I haven't noticed how you've given up sleeping on the sofa every night."

  Ever since they'd warmed the sheets in his apartment on Friday, he'd taken it on himself to slide into bed beside her at the end of each day. She wasn't complaining, but that evening had effectively ended an on-again, off-again sleeping arrangement.

  "Plus," she continued, "you're still able to leave any time you'd like."

  "What if
I don't intend to go?"

  She hesitated, hating to raise her hopes. "Is that your plan? To give up everything you have in Denver, including your family, to move here, where I have a job I love and friends who support me?"

  At his hesitation, she smiled weakly. "I didn't think so."

  * * *

  "I can draw up whatever custody arrangements you'd like, Ms. Hollister." Jonathan Gray steepled his fingers as he peered at her over his reading glasses. "The problem comes in asking the other party to sign them."

  "This is a fair arrangement, isn't it? Jeremy's father can visit any time he wishes, but I keep sole custody."

  "Have you discussed these terms with Dr McReynolds? Is he agreeable to them?"

  She thought of the conversation that had led to her scheduling an appointment with a lawyer. "We haven't talked specifics," she admitted.

  "I suggest you do, Ms. Hollister. While your offer seems generous, the family court in our county rarely awards sole custody until a parent is proven as unfit. Can you do that?"

  Adrian, an unfit parent? Hardly. He could be the featured parent on fatherhood posters. "No. Definitely not."

  "Then the court will most likely award joint custody. It can be joint legal custody in which you and Dr McReynolds share in any decisions regarding your son, or joint physical custody, in which case you share in the physical care and lodging with each of you having equal time."

  "So Jeremy would have two homes."

  "Basically. Although as young as he is, you might be granted primary physical custody. Keep in mind, though, if it's granted, Jeremy's father can ask the court to reconsider when Jeremy gets older. My advice is for the two of you to sit down and devise a parenting plan that specifies your agreed-on arrangement. Without it, the court will decide what they feel is in Jeremy's best interests. You may or may not like their ruling."

  So much for this being a simple matter. "I see," she said.

  "Tell me, has Dr McReynolds supported you in any way, either during your pregnancy or after?"

  "No." She thought a moment, then backpedaled. "Though lately he's bought a few things for Jeremy and for our house."

  "Hmmm. We could make the argument that he hasn't supported you and therefore you'd like primary physical custody, but the court takes a dim view of fathers who don't live up to their responsibilities."