Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc

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Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc Page 17

by Louisa Heaton


  Ellie and Logan had discussed this. There were so many names they both liked, but they wanted Rachel to feel as if she had a part in this new family, and that meant including her in their decisions. Allowing her to name one of the babies was a huge thing, and something they hoped would allow her to feel closer to her new siblings.

  Rachel took a good, hard look at him. ‘He’s very small.’

  ‘He’s very young.’

  ‘He looks like a baby.’

  They laughed. ‘He is a baby!’

  ‘Hmm...’

  Logan looked at Ellie and smiled as his daughter thought of a good name for their son.

  It had been non-stop since they’d found out they were having twins. There’d been extra medical checks and explaining everything to Rachel—including the fact that Ellie would be moving in to their home and that they’d be getting married.

  Ellie didn’t want to be a pregnant bride, so their wedding wasn’t until next year, but the buying of two of everything, whilst they were both working, and Ellie’s carrying two babies had been a whirlwind of appointments, scans, shifts at the hospital and scratching their heads over flat-pack furniture.

  Ellie had brought Samuel’s crib with her. They were going to give it to their son. Whatever he was going to be called.

  Logan suddenly had a scary thought. ‘Please don’t name him anything medical, Rachel. I don’t want a son named Aorta, or anything.’

  Rachel smiled. ‘Don’t be silly, Daddy. I know how to choose a boy’s name.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Okay.’ He couldn’t help but smile at her admonishment.

  Her little face was screwed up in concentration, and then suddenly her brow unfurrowed and a huge smile came across her face. ‘Okay. I know his name!’

  ‘What is it?’ Ellie asked, looking at Logan nervously.

  ‘Tobias. Tobias Samuel.’ Rachel looked at them both, very pleased with her choice.

  Logan nodded and looked at Ellie to see if that was all right. They’d discussed giving their son Samuel’s name as a middle name, but for Rachel to choose it... Well, that meant so much more.

  ‘That’s perfect, Rachel,’ Ellie said, tears of happiness in her eyes. ‘Holly and Tobias.’

  ‘We have his present, Daddy—remember?’ Rachel grabbed the gift bag from her father’s hand and placed it on Ellie’s lap. ‘We brought him this. For his crib.’

  Ellie frowned and opened the bag, and Logan watched as she gasped and tears welled up, reaching in to pull out the blue teddy bear that had sat in Samuel’s room all alone for all this time.

  Ellie hugged it to her and kissed it as her tears dripped onto the bear’s head.

  ‘Have I upset you?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘No. No, darling, you haven’t. You’ve made me the happiest and proudest mummy in the whole world.’

  And she got up, kissed the bear, and carefully placed it in Tobias’s crib.

  Where it had always been meant to be.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Louisa Heaton

  Their Unexpected Babies

  Saving the Single Dad Doc

  A Child to Heal Them

  Pregnant with His Royal Twins

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Army Doc’s Baby Secret by Charlotte Hawkes.

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  The Army Doc’s Baby Secret

  by Charlotte Hawkes

  CHAPTER ONE

  DR ANTONIA FARRINGDALE was adroit at smelling trouble.

  She had first learned it at her father’s knee, watching the oft-churning grey expanse of the Atlantic Ocean from the salt-sprayed windows of Westlake lifeboat station, as her mother piloted a boat out for a rescue. Learning to read the signs for when the crew was in for an easy night, or the omens for when they could expect an arduous night of dangerous shouts.

  She had honed it as a doctor, often knowing instinctively with her patients when she was hearing horses, and those rare occasions when she was hearing zebras.

  And she had perfected it as a battlefield trauma doctor working from twelve-by-twelve tents of field hospitals on missions in whichever conflict-hardened country du jour she was in.

  Yes, she could certainly smell trouble.

  So why, she wondered as she peered uneasily into the hallway at Delburn Bay lifeboat station—a mere hour and a half further up the coast from Westlake, and therefore the closest she’d managed to get herself to going home in over a decade—did she smell it so unnervingly strongly, right at this instant?

  Immobile yet alert, she stood in her doorway. Scarcely even daring to breathe as her eyes scanned for anything out of the ordinary.

  But the sea was agreeably calm beyond the launch slipway, and the corridors were quiet, most of the crew being volunteers who had day jobs but who would be at the station within minutes if they were called to be. There was nothing there which should set her chest thumping the way that it was.

  Unless a guilty conscience counted.

  Shaking her head as if that would be sufficient to dislodge the censorious thought, Antonia ducked back into the medical supply room, which doubled as her consultation room and office whenever she was on site as the station’s new Medical Officer, telling herself it was more likely to be just her overactive imagination.

  Telling herself that she had nothing to feel guilty about.

  Telling herself...what? That she’d made the right choices—as impossible as they had been—five years ago?

  It was true, but it didn’t help. It never really had. She still felt like a terrible person.

  But then, wasn’t that why she was back here? To set the record straight.

  Spinning around on the ball of her foot, Antonia strode determinedly back into her office and consultation room even as her mind skittered down the coast to Westlake, back to the past, to the man who had finally brought her back home now. Or, at least, that mere ninety minutes up the coast from home. A man to whom she owed the two biggest apologies of her entire life. Neither of which she had any idea how to even begin to make.

  Which was why she’d taken a job at Delburn Bay’s lifeboat station, rather than back at Westlake. The distance provided her with a much-needed buffer to allow her to pick the words she was going to use when she finally plucked up the courage to drive down the coast and face...him.

  Ezekiel Jackson.

  As though she hadn’t already had five years to work out what to say. The drumming in her head intensified, causing her to pin
ch the bridge of her nose. Not that it helped.

  ‘You’re supposed to be working,’ Antonia muttered irritably into the silent room. ‘Not looking for ghosts.’

  Her heeled boots clacked harshly as she strode back to her desk, and she pulled her lips into a grim line as she selected the next file from her pile. Technically she didn’t start officially for another month, but it was a voluntary position and they were desperate for someone to settle in. And it was better than being in her father’s small house, avoiding his concerned glances and all his unspoken questions, which nonetheless echoed loudly.

  Gratefully she slid down into the uncomfortable swivel chair and began to read the notes. Work had always been her salvation. Unsurprising, then, that she was absorbed within minutes.

  ‘So it’s true.’

  The rich, smouldering, all too familiar voice seemed to charge the room, as Antonia jerked her head up so fast that a crack and a stinging sensation ripped through her neck.

  She wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t ready.

  If a deep chasm had opened up beneath her feet and sent her hurtling down to the earth’s dense, super-hot core, it couldn’t have made her any more frantic.

  Zeke.

  Had the air been sucked out of her lungs? Her body? The very room itself? It certainly felt like it. She couldn’t breathe, let alone speak, and it was all she could do to keep her mouth clamped shut rather than open and close it like a fish caught out in one of the rock pools out on the sands.

  How she managed to stand—to face him—she would never know. Yet suddenly she was on her feet, her fingers braced against the cold, flat wood of her desk to stop the dizziness from winning out. She certainly had no idea how she managed to respond to him.

  ‘True?’

  Thank goodness for the open window, which let her suck in deep lungsful of sea air—its salty, tangy taste dancing obliviously on her tongue—as she tried to quell the wave of nausea that crested in her chest.

  Damn it if Zeke didn’t look every last bit as commanding, and dangerous, and male, as she remembered. His hair was longer now. At least, longer than the close-to-the-scalp cut he’d sported as a Special Forces soldier back then. Enough that she might actually be able to feel it between her fingers.

  If she wanted to. Which she didn’t. Of course she didn’t...because that would be pathetic.

  Desperately, urgently, Antonia reminded herself of that last night, five years ago. He’d been telling her for months that he didn’t love her, that he’d never loved her, but that had been the night when she’d finally believed him. Because it hadn’t been the words that had convinced her, rather it had been that hard, disgusted look in his cold eyes as they’d bored into her without a trace of softness or love behind them.

  Even now, at the mere memory, a pain shot through her heart as though it were folding in on itself.

  And then she looked into Zeke’s face and suddenly her heart kicked out again, straightening itself out and pounding so loudly within her chest that she was afraid it could be heard.

  He was a few years older, maybe, but that face was just as sharp, and masculine, and devastating as it had always been. Those cool blue eyes could still pierce through any soul, and that strong jawline, which she had traced countless times over the years, still housed a mouth that had been her undoing more times than she cared to remember.

  Without warning, desire zipped through her, horrifying and thrilling all at the same time. His beaten-up leathers moulded to every broad, muscled inch of him, reminding her of a time when—as teenagers—they had raced the length and breadth of the country on that prized motorbike of his.

  Suddenly, she felt like that adoring kid again.

  Had she really been so naïve as to believe that the mere passage of time would mean she would no longer be attracted to the man? Had she really told herself that she would be immune?

  She’d convinced herself of it, yet now the mere idea that she wouldn’t be affected by him was laughable.

  Even his silence was dark. Edgy. Lasting only a beat but feeling like an eternity.

  ‘That you’re back.’

  Another moment of silence. So thick and heavy that she almost imagined she could wear it as a cloak. Maybe one that could chase out the sudden chill that had pervaded her very bones.

  Almost against her own volition, Tia let her eyes track lower. Her heart kicked up yet another gear as she fought to control the shallow breaths that jostled inside. Zeke had once been the epitome of a deadly, dangerous, ruinous barracuda.

  Something she didn’t care to identify pooled low in her belly at the memory of the SBS man with a body that had always defied belief and was worthy of any Rodin or Polycleitus sculpture.

  If she didn’t know better, she might have thought that nothing had changed. He looked as fit, as honed, as lethal, as ever. And her fingers practically itched to reach out and test it for herself.

  Discreetly, she moved her arms behind her back and balled her fists into each other.

  And then, finally, she let her gaze travel lower. Down the snug, black motorcycle leathers, which did little to disguise impossibly muscular thighs, and down...

  She froze.

  For a moment, the fluttering receded as a wave of nausea threatened to close over her head. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, couldn’t even breathe. Like a swimmer caught in a riptide, fighting to stay focussed and keep their head above the surface.

  What had he been saying? Asking her?

  Think. Think!

  Slowly, so slowly, her brain kicked back into gear. Something about her being back...?

  Her tongue took a moment to work loose again.

  ‘It’s true,’ she confirmed stiffly.

  And perhaps needlessly. After all, it was self-evident, wasn’t it? Or maybe Zeke was simply giving her the opportunity to rethink her decision and get out of there. Out of Delburn Bay. Out of his corner of the country. Out of his life.

  Just as she’d done the last time he’d commanded it.

  And if it weren’t for Seth, then maybe she would have done just that.

  ‘Although, I’d hardly say I’m back.’ She licked her dry lips even as she silently berated herself for such an outward show of nervousness. ‘I’m far enough up the coast from Westlake.’

  ‘I think you can call that back—’ his voice was like a hot cocoa river running through her, and warming her, even as she tried to fight it ‘—given that it’s the closest you’ve been to coming home in around fifteen years.’

  Coming home. It sounded so...easy, when dropped from Zeke’s lips, and suddenly the realisation terrified her. It meant that home wasn’t Westlake where she’d grown up, or Delburn Bay where her father had moved to. Home was where Seth was.

  But it was also where Zeke was.

  And that absolutely, positively, was not acceptable.

  ‘I disagree,’ she lied, aware that folding her arms across her chest was a defensive, negative gesture, yet wholly unable to stop herself.

  ‘No, you don’t. You might be here, but you desperately wanted to come all the way to Westlake. You just couldn’t bring yourself. It’s obvious. You were never very good at lying to me, Tia.’

  God, she’d made a monumental mistake coming back here.

  It was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

  ‘I’m not lying,’ she lied, desperation reverberating through every syllable.

  Zeke’s mouth curled up at one corner, making it seem as if that were actually a bad thing. But she had to concede that he had a point. Which only made it all the more ironic that he’d never realised she’d told him the biggest lie of all.

  Before she could answer, he moved into the room—or maybe prowled was more accurate—and she couldn’t drag her gaze away for even a second. Every bit the most virile, red-blooded, lethally powerful man she’d ever known. Someth
ing fluttered low in her belly, like a thousand butterflies all taking flight at once.

  She couldn’t still want him, still ache for him, after all this time. Surely? It was ridiculous. Unconscionable. She couldn’t allow it.

  She wouldn’t.

  ‘Then why Delburn Bay, Tia?’

  Was she really ready to answer that?

  Anyway, Tia was the naïve fifteen-year-old girl who had fallen for the handsome, charismatic seventeen-year-old boy the moment they’d volunteered together at Westlake lifeboat station a lifetime ago. Tia was the twenty-eight-year-old whose life had changed in a single instant and everything had been turned on its head.

  She hadn’t been Tia for five years.

  ‘It’s Antonia now.’

  Whether she’d intended it as a distraction or a feeble attempt to take control of the situation, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, it fell about as heavily as an anchor on a freight ship.

  ‘The truth, Tia,’ he pressed her, with deliberate emphasis.

  The truth was something she wasn’t ready for. But, just like that, just because Zeke had spoken, she was Tia again. As though the last five years had never happened.

  ‘How did you know I was here?’

  ‘The lifeboat community is tight-knit. People talk. You should know that.’

  She ignored the voice in the back of her head whispering that was precisely why she’d come to Delburn Bay. She’d banked on that same tight-knit community to relay the news to Zeke that she had returned.

  Just...not so unbelievably quickly.

  ‘Did my father tell you I was here?’

  The bark of laughter—if that was what it could be called—was less amused and more incredulous.

  ‘Your father?’

  ‘I’m staying with him. At least, until I find a place of my own.’

  ‘And here I was thinking you were as much persona non grata as I am. The man who warned you that I couldn’t love you, that I didn’t even know what love was, and that we’d never last. Did you tell him you were only too happy to leave, or does he think it was all me?’

 

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