Expecting the Doctor's Baby (12 page)

“This is hypothetical, right? Because my mom can take care of herself.”

“How do you know?”

“She's packing.”

“A gun?”

He nodded. “Besides, you did all the work and I thought you could use a little help cleaning up.”

“That's very sweet.” Although what she'd really wanted to hear was that he'd stayed just to be with her. That was so sappy, but didn't make it any less true.

“Was this a typical Ryan family gathering?” he asked.

“Usually it's just the four of us. I think Dad was on his best behavior because your mother was here. He probably knew she was packing and figured if he wasn't nice to you she'd shoot him.”

“Maybe,” he said, chuckling.

He had a nice laugh, Sam thought and laughter chased the tension lines and stress from his face, making him look younger, more carefree. She liked making him laugh.

“What did you do last Thanksgiving?”

Just like that the amusement disappeared. “I was working in the E.R.”

“And?”

He started on another glass, rubbing so hard the delicate crystal was in serious jeopardy.

After drying her hands on a towel, she gently took it from him. “What's wrong, Mitch?”

“There wasn't anything to be thankful for that year.”

He slapped the towel into his palm, then met her gaze.

“Because your brother died?”

“A few months before,” he confirmed. “I knew his addiction was getting worse. When he was doing okay there was no communication. Then he'd get into trouble, either with the cops or he'd wind up in the E.R. That year he was calling all the time.” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes dark and unfocused, brooding. “I tried to get him to go into rehab and he said he would. He always thanked me for taking care of him. But I didn't.”

“You couldn't,” she amended. “You didn't abandon him, but he was the only one who could help himself.” That was something Mitch had to come to terms with. But since she'd opened this can of worms, maybe it would help to dump it all out. “You said that was part of why there was nothing to be thankful for that year. I can't imagine what else—”

“It was a bad time,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Another time in a whole lot of very bad times.”

“Tell me,” she urged.

“My wife and I separated the Friday after Thanksgiving.”

“After your brother died?” When he nodded, she asked, “What happened?”

“It would be easier to say what didn't happen. I was so wrapped up in taking care of Robbie that I didn't even do routine maintenance on my marriage.”

“I don't understand. You weren't being pulled in a different direction at that point. Wasn't there time to reconnect and work on the relationship?”

He shook his head. “It was over.”

“But why?”

“She did something that I just couldn't forgive.” He met her gaze. “I know what you're thinking. That I'm not taking responsibility for my part in the mess. I freely admit I wasn't there for her. She felt neglected and abandoned. My work came first, then Robbie. I have no doubt that she got tired of coming in a distant third. I'm willing to admit that almost certainly that's what drove her to it.”

The woman had cheated on him. She wasn't getting the attention she needed and turned to someone else to meet her needs. It happened all the time. But Sam couldn't understand. Instead of trying to help the man she'd taken a vow to love, she'd made an already overworked, emotionally spent, overburdened man responsible for her happiness. That level of selfish, self-centered insensitivity was unbelievable to her.

“It's not your fault, Mitch.”

His look was wry. “Aren't you the one who always says it takes two to make or break a conflict?”

“Yes. But I wouldn't expect you to follow the three-step plan for conflict resolution when you're seeing a patient whose heart has stopped. When the trauma eases you reprioritize. Your brother was in crisis and you tried to help. That doesn't mean you weren't willing to make changes.”

“I appreciate you taking my side, but it's not necessary. It's over. No longer an issue.”

That wasn't exactly true. The tug of war in his relationship had left him unable, or unwilling to commit again. He'd become a loner who believed it was every man for himself.

She put her hand on his arm. “I'm sorry I made you think of bad stuff.”

“It's okay.” He looked down at her. “How about we have some pumpkin pie now?”

Sam's stomach instantly rebelled at the mere mention of food. “Oh, please. I'm too stuffed.”

One of Mitch's dark eyebrows rose. “How? You hardly ate a thing.”

“What are you? The food police?”

He held up his hands. “Okay. No pie for you.”

She blew out a breath. “I didn't mean to snap. I guess it's post-Ryan family meltdown. Sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm glad you feel like you can let your guard down with me.”

Not so much.

Sam knew her extreme fatigue, aversion to food and a period still missing in action were all symptoms of what happens when you have unprotected sex even just one time. It all added up to the very real probability that she was pregnant. She hadn't done the over-the-counter test yet, but she planned to at the same time she hoped and prayed she was wrong.

She should warn Mitch. Tell him of her suspicions. She might have if he hadn't just shared why the last thing he wanted was more responsibility. Next week she had a doctor's appointment.

If and when she found out she was pregnant, she would tell him. He had a right to know if she was carrying his child. Right now all she had were symptoms and a strong hunch. Without confirmation, she wouldn't say anything and spoil yet another Thanksgiving for him.

S
am was proof that you
could
get pregnant having sex just once without protection. Dr. Rebecca Hamilton had just confirmed what the pregnancy test and her symptoms had been telling her. It was validation that Mitch Tenney had made her want him so badly all she'd been able to think about was the pleasure she'd find in his arms. The memory was still so vivid and the feelings so strong she wondered if they'd ever fade. Probably not.

She would always remember. And if she didn't…She'd have the baby to remind her, which was something because there hadn't been any promises. Mitch wasn't a promise kind of guy.

Sam wasn't sure that finding out she'd be a single mom was a bombshell that should be dropped while her feet were in metal stirrups and her knees in the air. But that's the way it went down.

“All finished.” The doctor held out a hand and helped her to a sitting position on the exam table.

“Thanks, Doctor—”

“We're going to be seeing a lot of each other for the next few months. You might as well call me Rebecca.”

Rebecca Hamilton was a beautiful brown-eyed blonde who looked too young to be doing what she was doing. Before making the appointment, Sam had done some research and checked out Dr. Hamilton, finding out only good things. Not only that, the office was on Horizon Ridge Parkway in the same building as her own. She'd figured if she were pregnant, she wouldn't have far to go for her prenatal appointments.

Rebecca slipped off her plastic gloves, then toed open the metal trash can and dropped them inside, letting the lid drop shut. “Everything looks good, Samantha—”

“Call me Sam.”

“Okay, Sam.” The doctor studied her and frowned. “From the look on your face I'm going out on a limb here and take a guess. This pregnancy wasn't planned.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Rebecca slid her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat. On the breast pocket her name was embroidered in navy letters, along with her specialty—OB/GYN. It was the obstetrics part that had butterflies jumping in Sam's stomach. Now she knew a little person was growing inside her. She definitely had not planned this.

“Why don't you get dressed and meet me in my office? We'll talk,” the doctor said.

“Okay.”

The answer was automatic and Sam was about to say there wasn't anything to discuss when the door closed. She scooted off the table and slipped on her clothes and low-heeled black shoes. After collecting her coat and purse, she left the room and walked down the hall lined with exam room doors. Rebecca's office was close to the reception area and Sam walked inside, noting all the impressive-looking diplomas on the wall.

The desk held a neat stack of patient charts along with a computer and the typical in/out box. Several metal file cabinets filled one wall.

“Have a seat,” Rebecca said, walking in behind her. She sat in the high-backed office chair on the other side of the desk.

Sam noted the two chairs in front and picked the one on the right. “Thanks.”

“So, you're going to have a baby.” Rebecca smiled.

“I swear it was just once. Without protection,” she amended, her cheeks growing warm.

Funny how talking about sex embarrassed her after the intensely personal physical exam she'd just been through. But she felt so incredibly stupid, totally scared.

“I'm not judging you, Sam.”

That made one of them. “I guess it comes under the heading ‘didn't think it through.'”

“Sometimes that happens. So you regroup and figure things out.” Rebecca folded her hands and rested them on the stack of papers in front of her.

“Okay. Right. Figure things out,” she repeated like a ventriloquist's dummy.

“Does the father know?”

Sam shook her head. “I wanted to wait until I knew for sure before saying anything to him.”

“So he wouldn't be disappointed?” Rebecca suggested.

“That would only happen if he were happy about having a baby.”

“Yeah. I was trying to be positive.”

“I appreciate that.” Sam sighed as she dropped her arm and let her purse slide to the floor beside her. “But, no. He will definitely not be doing the dance of joy when I tell him about this baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“How do you feel about having a baby?” Rebecca asked gently.

“That's a good question. I think I'm still in shock. When it wears off you might want to duck.”

“Do you want children?”

Sam thought about that for a moment. “Probably. Yeah. Up until now, I haven't given it a lot of consideration what with working on my career goals.”

“There are options—”

“No.” Sam shook her head. She knew what the doctor was getting at and it was something she wouldn't even consider. She was still in shock, but the life growing inside her suddenly became incredibly real and the need to protect it of paramount importance. “I plan to have this baby.”

“Adoption is also a choice.”

Let someone else raise her child? She'd been adopted and look how well that turned out. She wasn't completely ungrateful and appreciated that her stepfather hadn't abandoned her. But Mitch had made her face the fact that Arnold Ryan had an agenda that didn't include unselfish motivation. If her mother had lived, things might have been different. Tears burned in her eyes and if it was pregnancy hormones running rampant the months until her baby was born would be very emotional.

But she couldn't help being sad that her mother wasn't here now to confide in about the fact that she was pregnant and alone.

Sam brushed a knuckle beneath her eye as she shook her head. “Let me rephrase and make this very clear. I'm going to have this baby and I will raise it. By myself.”

“Okay. But can I give you a piece of advice?” Rebecca asked.

“Of course. You're a healthcare professional and it wouldn't be especially bright not to listen to what you have to say.”

“This comes under the personal heading.”

Sam nodded. “I see.”

“About your baby's father—” Rebecca's gaze slid to a framed photo on her desk. “Give him a chance to screw up before judging him.”

From where she was sitting Sam could see that Rebecca was in the picture with a very good-looking man. Without commenting, she asked, “Who's the guy?”

“Gabriel Thorne. My fiancé.”

“He's cute.”

“You'll get no argument from me about that.” Rebecca actually blushed and sighed.

“He's also a lucky man,” Sam said.

“Thanks for saying so. We're really both lucky to have found each other. It wasn't easy. We had a lot to work through.” There was a glimmer of radiance shining through the clouds in Rebecca's expression. “Relationships aren't easy. They're messy and complicated. But so worth it when you take a chance.”

“That's doctor-speak for I should give him the benefit of the doubt because he might want this baby?”

“I'm saying give him a chance. He just might surprise you.”

It had never occurred to Sam not to tell Mitch that he was going to be a father. He'd been through so much and she didn't want to pile on. Still, he had a right to know about his child. But that didn't mean she was looking forward to the conversation. He'd flat-out told her that responsibility wasn't his thing and nothing tied you down, both financially and emotionally, more than a baby.

She studied Rebecca, who suddenly looked older and wiser than when they'd first met in the exam room. She was a woman and a doctor whose specialty was women. She'd probably seen this situation. Sam wasn't the first patient to have an unplanned pregnancy with a man who wasn't eager to commit. Maybe she wasn't being fair to Mitch and assuming the worst. He'd said he wasn't a long-term kind of guy.

But that was before there was a baby. It was possible that when she told him he would be over the moon with happiness about this new life.

She clung to that hope the way a
Titanic
survivor held on to the lifeboat.

 

There was a knock on Sam's office door which she'd been both anticipating and dreading. “Come in.”

Suddenly Mitch was there and her heart started to pound. Normally that was a direct result of her intense reaction to him physically and in every other way. But not today.

She had something to tell him that would change everything and the jury was out on whether or not the change would be in a good way, or a bad one.

He smiled and she felt the power of it down to her toes.

“Hi,” he greeted her, lifting his hand in a wave. “I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving.”

“I know. I—” What? Missed him? Absolutely. More than she could say. She'd been avoiding him? That, too.

“Mom wanted me to thank you again for inviting her. She had a good time.”

“I'm glad. That must mean the two of you are communicating?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, we are.”

“Good.” She was grateful for the small talk and the chance just to look at him, all casual, sexy masculinity. She wanted to enjoy this moment, the easy camaraderie laced with sexual pull.

“The receptionist said you wanted to see me.”

Did he need an excuse? This was a hell of a reason. “Yeah. Have a seat.” God knew she was glad to be sitting down.

“Okay.” He shut the door. Then he moved farther into the room and rounded her desk, reaching a hand down to pull her to her feet.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm going to kiss you.”

He touched his mouth to hers and instantly she started to sizzle. Then he pulled her into his arms and it was a place she wanted to stay forever. The solid warmth and strength of him felt so good. Safe. And safe wasn't a feeling she'd known very much in her life, so she liked it. The need to feel safe was especially powerful since finding out she was going to be a mother. She had to tell him he was going to be a father.

With an effort, she broke the kiss. “Mitch, we can't—”

“I fired you, remember?”

“I know. It's not that. There's something I have to say and when you look at me like that I can't think straight.”

His grin grew wider and more smug, more rife with male satisfaction than usual. “I like the sound of that.”

“Just so we're clear, that wasn't meant in a good way. Please, listen—”

“Me, first.”

He lowered his mouth to hers again and the soft kiss felt too good for words. She automatically opened to him and he took advantage of the invitation. His tongue swept inside and dueled with hers, teasing and caressing until her heart pounded for all the right reasons.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back creating sparks everywhere he touched. Her breasts, more tender and sensitive than she'd ever known, were nestled against his wide chest and the sensation pooled liquid heat in her belly.

His other hand gently squeezed her waist, then slid lower to cup her rear and press her more firmly against his hardness. He wanted her. If he wanted her enough, there was a chance that it would be okay when she told him…

With an effort, she pulled her mouth from his and struggled to catch her breath. “Oh, boy—”

He was breathing hard, too. “I couldn't have said it better myself.”

“Mitch, we have to talk. Really. I'm serious.”

“When you say it like that…” He sucked in a breath. “Okay. Shoot.”

She stepped away from him and pointed to the chairs in front of her desk. “Go sit over there.”

“I like it better over here,” he said, brushing his finger over her lips.

“Me, too. But the arrangement isn't especially beneficial to meaningful conversation.”

“Talk is cheap and highly overrated.”

When he reached for her again, Sam was sorely tempted to let nature take its course. If she wasn't susceptible to his particular brand of charm, the unexpected combination of curtness and caring, she wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. Two things stopped her from going with it. This was her office and the wrong place for getting personal.

The second was that the next time she was with Mitch, she wanted it to be for all the right reasons, with everything out in the open. She didn't want it to be about putting off telling him what she had to tell him.

She rested her hands firmly on his chest to keep him at bay. “Please sit.”

He stared at her for several moments, then backed away and sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly. “What's going on, Sam?”

She stood as tall as possible, straightened her blazer, then said, “I'm pregnant, Mitch.”