The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

by Deanne Anders

  “My daughter-in-law’s parents help when they can, but they’re older and they live all the way in Lake Charles,” the woman said as she pulled a tissue out of her purse with trembling hands.

  “Carrie loves you very much, Mrs. Long,” Frannie said. “She just doesn’t know how to handle all the feelings she’s having, and she doesn’t want to worry you or your husband so she’s been trying to deal with them alone.”

  “She can talk to me about anything. I’ve told her that,” Mrs. Long said.

  “And you should keep on telling her that. But I think that right now maybe she needs to talk to someone outside of the family. I’d like to see her in my outpatient clinic—and there’s a group of teenagers suffering from what’s called ‘adverse childhood events’ that I’d like her to join.”

  “Are the other kids like Carrie?” Mrs. Long asked.

  “Some of them have suffered the loss of a loved one and others have medical issues or other traumas that they’re having to face. I think it’s good for these children to see that they aren’t the only ones going through something that’s been life-changing for them.”

  “And the cutting? Will Carrie be able to stop?” Mrs. Long asked.

  “I think so. She tells me she’s only done it twice, and I think if we can give her healthier ways to deal with her grief she will be okay. But we need to watch her closely. There have been cases when a child who practices cutting has cut too deeply and done permanent damage to a tendon or a muscle.”

  “Also,” said Ian, “there’s a high risk of infection. Because these kids usually aren’t concerned about what they use to cut themselves with.”

  Frannie knew he didn’t want to scare the woman, but they both knew she needed to be told of all the dangers.

  “And there have been cases where a cut has been made too deep and a lot blood has been lost,” said Frannie.

  Mrs. Long stared at Frannie, then stood. “I’ll have Carrie at the next meeting of your group. I’ve already lost my son. I won’t lose my granddaughter too.”

  While Ian went to speak with the ER doctor and take care of Carrie’s discharge paperwork, Frannie gave Mrs. Long the contact information to make an appointment and join the group, and then took Mrs. Long to see her granddaughter.

  She could tell by their conversation that the two of them were close, and that Carrie didn’t want to cause her grandmother any more pain. And by the time Frannie left Carrie’s room her grandmother had gotten the teenager to agree to see Frannie as an outpatient and take part in the group.

  She was surprised to find Ian standing outside Carrie’s door, waiting for her.

  “You’re done?” she asked.

  “I didn’t have a lot to do. I just needed to make some notes on the file. You did all the work,” Ian said.

  “You handled all the cuts,” she said as they walked toward his car.

  “I think what you did by getting Carrie to talk with you was more than I did by bandaging up a few cuts,” he said.

  Frannie was speechless. A few weeks ago she never would have dreamed of hearing this kind of praise coming out of this man’s mouth. He had changed so much since he’d opened his eyes to treatment possibilities other than his own. Maybe now that he could see the real value of her job he would give her a chance to show him what her program was bringing to the table for pediatric patients admitted to the hospital.

  “I think you should come to one of my group sessions,” she said as they climbed into his car. “There are several of your patients in my outpatient groups and I think it would be good for you to see them.”

  Ian dropped his hand from the ignition, where he’d just turned the key to start the car, and took her hand in his. “I’d like that,” he said.

  He let go of her hand and put the car in Drive.

  The roads to her home were empty, and the quiet gave the car a feeling of intimacy that hadn’t been there when they had left earlier that night. Ian slid one of his hands off the steering wheel and took her hand in his again. His thumb began to caress the palm of her hand, seducing her and sending streaks of desire up her arm and into her chest.

  This was not the way friends held hands. This was more. Was it possible that he wanted more too?

  By the time Ian parked the car in front of her building she was squirming in her seat. She wanted to throw off her seat belt and launch herself into his arms, but she knew she needed to wait and let him make the first move. She’d pushed him the first time they’d made love, and after his denying that he was capable of having a romantic relationship he needed to be the one to take their relationship further.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said as he raised his hand to her hair, then moved his hand around to the back of her head and pulled her close.

  His eyes fell to her lips and it was then that she noticed that she was all but sitting in his lap. She shifted closer, enjoying the moan that came from him as her breast brushed against his other hand. Not that she was unaffected. The feel of his body against hers was setting off all kind of bells and whistles inside her body—along with an alarm that told her she was in serious danger of losing her mind if he didn’t hurry up and kiss her.

  She was about to make the move herself when he pulled her even closer and pressed his lips to hers. Forget bells and whistles—the touch of his tongue as it swept into her mouth set off fireworks all through her body.

  She wrapped her arms around him and wiggled herself as far into his lap as she could with the steering wheel in her way.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Pulling away from him, she motioned toward his door. “Out,” she said. “We have to get out.”

  He opened his door and they stumbled out of the car, almost falling as they exited in a pile of arms and legs. Ian reached in and grabbed his keys, then shoved her bag into her arms. He almost dragged her to the building’s entrance as she searched for her door keys. She found them as the elevator arrived, and hit the button for her condominium only a moment before she found herself backed up against the elevator wall with Ian’s body pressed into hers.

  His lips sealed against her own. His hands traveled up the back of her shirt and she felt the cool air against her nipples with the release of her bra. He pulled away from her, and was lifting the hem of her shirt when the elevator doors opened.

  She pushed her bra back against her body and thanked the Lord that she only shared the floor with one other person, whom she hoped had already turned in for the night.

  They rushed from the elevator, she was dragging him now, and she slid her key into the lock and opened the door.

  “Where?” Ian said—the only word he’d spoken since she’d climbed into his lap.

  Had she really done that? What had she been thinking?

  Ian, apparently tired of waiting for her answer, ran his hand down her hip, then circled around to her bottom and crushed her to him, sending any second thoughts she might have had spinning away into another galaxy.

  Her body screamed a triumphant yes and her mouth opened in a moan. Ian plunged his tongue inside, swallowing it up. Her brain clicked off and all those other parts of her, the desire and need that she had ignored for so long, took over. They needed to find a horizontal surface—and soon.

  She pushed him away and wanted to laugh at the stricken look on his face.

  “The bedroom is in the back,” she said.

  Part of her wanted to slow things down, but she knew that wasn’t an option at this point. She caught a look at the two of them in the entranceway mirror and started to laugh. Her hair was a tangled mess from where Ian had clutched it and her lips were bright red from Ian’s kisses. Ian wasn’t much better, with his hair sticking up and his lips as bright as hers.

  He stepped behind her to see what she was laughing at, then grinned. When his grin went from amused to roguish she knew she was in trouble.


  He wrapped his arms around her from behind, then eased them up under her shirt. She stood mesmerized as he removed first her shirt and then her bra, then returned to cup her breasts. With one in each hand he kneaded them, and they both watched her nipples pucker. She wanted his mouth on them. Wanted to feel the tug of his warm wet lips.

  Need coiled inside her. She needed him inside her. Deep inside her. Right now.

  “I need...” she said, and she turned in Ian’s arms till the two of them were facing each other with their bodies perfectly aligned.

  “I know,” Ian said. “Show me your bedroom.”

  She led him to the small area that had been walled off for sleep. She turned to help him with his clothes, only to find he was already stripped down to nothing but his boxers. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his body as he peeled them off. She knew he was looking at her for her reaction, and couldn’t stop her tongue from darting out and licking her lips.

  The man who stood before her was the answer to every fantasy she’d had in her life, with his toned muscles and his tight abs and a dark trail of hair that ran down to that part of his body that made her breath catch in her throat. She licked her lips again.

  “You’re killing me,” Ian said as he moved closer to her.

  He pushed her back on the bed and a startled laugh escaped her, sending her into a riot of laughter that she feared might be hysterics. He pulled off her shoes, and then her pants, and the look he ran down her body as he peeled the lacey scrap of her underwear off put an end to her laughter.

  Warmth flowed through her, following the path his eyes had taken and then settling in her core, leaving a pool of wet heat between her legs. She watched as he licked his lips and felt her body tighten in response. They were both going to die if he didn’t hurry things along.

  He laid his long fingers against her abdomen, then ran them down to her dark curls. The touch of his hands had her body stretching up to his. His eyes remained on his hand as he opened her up and slid a finger inside her, slowly. He withdrew his finger, then entered her again, and this time he pressed his thumb against her and circled it once, twice... On the third rotation she screamed her release, her body bucking against his hand.

  She opened her eyes to find Ian above her, his breaths coming as fast as hers. He bent and kissed her deeply, and her body, which seconds ago had been sated, immediately responded with a need for more.

  His hands gripped her legs and then he slid inside her. Never had she felt so filled or so complete. It was as if her body had been waiting for this, for him, her whole life, and when he began to move she couldn’t help but moan with each thrust.

  They climaxed together and she forced her eyes open to watch his face as the orgasm rolled through their bodies. With his head thrown back and his dark hair falling around his face, that so kissable mouth of his open in a soundless moan, she knew she had never seen a more beautiful man in her life.

  She let her eyes close and relaxed into the afterglow of their lovemaking...

  * * *

  Ian reached over to his nightstand and felt for his ringing phone. He found only empty air. Had he moved his nightstand?

  Turning over to check the other side of the bed, he felt a soft warm body next to him and knew immediately it wasn’t Church, who had made a habit of climbing into his bed lately.

  His eyes opened and he came awake, staring into dark brown eyes.

  “That’s not mine...it must be yours,” she said, as the phone started ringing again.

  He climbed out of bed and went in search of the jeans he had worn to work on the float the night before. It seemed like an eternity since they’d been at the warehouse. He looked down at the phone as he pulled it from the pocket to discover it was only 5:00 a.m.

  The phone began to ring for a third time, and the caller ID told him it was Jeff—Micah’s father.

  “Hello?” Ian said.

  He listened as Jeff apologized for calling so early and then launched into the reason for his call. Micah, who had recently been started on oral feedings, had begun to be sick the night before, and had vomited several times through the night. The on-call physician had been called, and had given orders for a change in Micah’s medication, but Jeff was hoping Ian would come in to see his son as soon as possible.

  Ian assured him that he’d be there in a half-hour and hung up.

  “What’s wrong?” Frannie asked as she sat up in bed.

  “That was Jeff. Micah was sick during the night. He’s worried about the possibility of the patch used to repair Micah’s hernia coming loose,” Ian said as he pulled his clothes on. He’d have to change into a pair of scrubs once he got to the hospital.

  “Could that happen?” she asked.

  “Not likely. But there is occasional failure in all the patches we have available, so I’m going to go in and see Micah now, to make sure there’s no problems.”

  “I’ll get ready and meet you there. I want to see Mia and Jeff. It sounds like they’ve had a rough night.”

  Ian walked over to the side of her bed and kissed her. There was so much he wanted to tell her, to show her, but it would have to wait till they had more time.

  “I’ll see you later, then,” he said, and headed out of the room.

  * * *

  Ian walked with the pediatric staff as they took Micah back to his room. They had replaced the nasal gastric tube in his throat before they’d taken him to have an MRI, and the poor little boy had had to be sedated so that they could get a good MRI scan without him moving about.

  The good news was there were no signs of any failure of the patch or any other complications. The on-call doctor had made the right call in increasing some of his medications, and so far all the baby’s lab work had come back clear.

  After leaving the staff to settle Micah back into his crib he went to the visitors’ room, where Mia and Jeff were waiting for him.

  He saw Mia and Jeff sitting in a small alcove, with Frannie next to them. He stopped just inside the room and took in the two worried parents. He noted how Jeff had wrapped his arm around Mia, and how she leaned into him as if he was all that was holding her up.

  They were a couple who had been given some hard knocks in their life together, but they seemed to be holding on together. It was the “together” part that made him pause.

  He couldn’t help but remember the times right after they’d lost Brian when he had reached out to Lydia, wanting to give her comfort, and to find comfort for himself in her arms. But she’d always pulled away from him. He’d felt lonelier in the home they’d shared then than he felt now, when he lived all alone.

  What had it been about him that had turned his wife so against him after Brian’s death?

  He’d blamed a lot of it on their marriage counselor, but to be fair they wouldn’t even have been there to see her if things hadn’t already deteriorated between them. He had been totally blindsided when Lydia had started attacking him, with wild accusations of him neglecting his family, his son, in favor of the hospital. She’d even suggested that he was involved with another woman—a claim so absurd that he hadn’t even bothered to address it.

  Yes, he’d had long hours at work—what trauma doctor didn’t?—but there was no truth in her other claims.

  He’d stayed with her, trying to get her to talk to him, to explain what it was that he had done to cause her to turn on him, until one night she had turned violent and hit him. He’d made a phone call to her parents that night, and the next day they had come and taken her home with them.

  He hadn’t heard another word from her—not even when he had filed for divorce. Not until that letter had come to the hospital. After all this time what could she possibly have to tell him now?

  He looked over at Frannie, who had said something that caused the other two to laugh, and then she looked up and saw him. The smile she gave him warmed him, taking aw
ay the impenetrable cold that surrounded him as he remembered those times with his ex-wife.

  What would it have been like if he had met Frannie before Lydia? What if he and Frannie had married and then lost their child? Would the two of them have been able to hold it together, like Jeff and Mia were? Or would he have somehow botched his marriage with her too? How could he know when he still didn’t know what it was he had done wrong? Maybe he was missing whatever it took to have someone love him like Mia loved Jeff?

  The marriage counselor had implied that he was holding back his feelings concerning the loss of Brian, but who had he been supposed to share them with? His wife, who flinched whenever he got too close? Or the counselor, who seemed to ask more questions in their half-hour sessions than he’d had in his college exams?

  He forced himself to put on a confident smile for his patient’s parents, though inside he felt the heavy weight of inadequacy that had haunted him since the death of his son.

  Mia and Jeff rushed toward him and Frannie followed.

  “Is Micah okay?” Jeff asked for the two of them.

  “He’s fine. There’s no sign that the hernia patch isn’t holding and all his labs look good. We might have moved a little too fast with his feedings, so we’re going to hold off a few days before we try it again.”

  The two of them thanked him, and Frannie, then headed back to Micah’s room.

  “They were telling me how they didn’t want to be those parents who call the doctor about every little thing,” said Frannie.

  “They did the right thing. For now I want them to call me about anything that concerns them,” Ian said as the two of them headed back out into the hall.

  “I’ll let them know you said that. It’ll make them feel better. They’ve been through a lot the last couple of months,” Frannie said, “but I think they’re going to be okay. They seem to have a strong marriage.”

  They entered the elevator together and Ian moved closer to her as the doors shut leaving them alone.

  “About last night...” he said. “We need to talk about some things.”