SH Medical 08 - The Baby Dilemma (11 page)

“There are different ways to structure payments. You wouldn’t have to come up with the whole amount at once.” It sounded as if Nora had done her homework. Not too difficult, considering that her brother-in-law Tony Franco was the hospital’s attorney and well versed on medical-related issues.

Paige supposed she could borrow the money, especially since she owned the house outright. While that would require making payments she hadn’t figured into her budget, there would be advantages to part-ownership, including the security of knowing she couldn’t be fired or have her hours cut. On the other hand, she’d be taking on a long-term commitment.

“We can work out a fair financial split if I’m only working part-time and you’re basically full-time,” Nora continued. “Of course we’ll share a receptionist and support staff.” The practice already divided the cost of clerks for records, billing and accounting with Dr. Rayburn, Paige had learned.

“I guess I just have one more question,” she said. “Why are you so eager to do this?”

Nora paused before answering. “To make things more permanent and predictable. To know I can count on you. And frankly, Leo’s a little concerned. Tony told him how much the patients love you and he got the idea you might leave to start your own practice and take them with you.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Paige struggled not to take the comment as an insult. “That would be unethical.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I know you’d never intentionally undercut me.” Nora regarded her apologetically. “I just wanted you to hear everything so you don’t feel later like I hid things from you.”

Fair enough. “I understand. But I’ll need to think about it.”

“That’s fine. Just remember that this would give you more control over your financial destiny. By the way, when are you due?”

“In February.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m glad you have Mike in the house in case you need help. Is he going to stay after the baby’s born?” Nora waved away her own question. “I forgot. You haven’t told him yet.”

“He’s only staying for the summer, anyway.” Hearing the wistfulness in her voice, Paige added, “After that, I’ll need the second bedroom for the baby.”

She would have loved to chat further, but Keely’s dour appearance in the doorway emphasized that personal discussions were at an end. “The next patient’s prepped, Doctor.”

“Thank you.” Paige got to her feet.

“I’d like to start scheduling patients by mid-July. Mornings only. No surgery yet.” Nora cleared her throat, obviously unwilling to say too much in front of the nurse. “Let me know what you decide. No rush.”

“Absolutely.”

Nora’s proposition played through Paige’s mind for the rest of the day. They hadn’t discussed what would happen if Paige decided not to buy in. Would Nora replace her with another doctor willing to pay the price? Even if she didn’t do so immediately, with her husband pressing the issue, she was likely to start looking. Given Safe Harbor’s growing reputation, she’d have no trouble finding a taker.

Paige hadn’t expected to have to make a choice like this, not with everything else going on. A few times, she felt a flare of anger, but she could hardly blame Nora, who hadn’t even known about the pregnancy until today. And as long as they agreed on a reasonable price, Paige ought to be able to swing it.

She had no intention of leaving this area or Aunt Bree’s beloved home. But this seemed so inflexible. What if she did decide she missed her family more than she’d imagined? With a baby on the way, she was seeing a lot of things afresh.

By the time Paige headed for home around 6 p.m., she felt as if she’d spent the day digging postholes and wrangling cattle. She’d stayed late to see Sheila and her recalcitrant husband, Gil, a pudgy fellow with a beer gut. Hard to figure how anyone could cheat with him while married to Mike. His condescending attitude hadn’t endeared him, either, but perhaps he was keeping up his guard out of insecurity.

The man certainly appeared to be hiding his true motive. Paige got the impression Gil had deliberately refused to see her until after five in the expectation that she’d be unavailable. When that didn’t work, he’d refused to give a sperm sample until he could see the renowned new head of the men’s fertility program. Gil had read in the newspaper that Dr. Cole Rattigan would be arriving late in the year and, to his wife’s disgust, refused to accept that Paige was competent to order the initial, routine testing. Only an expert in male fertility was good enough, one who wouldn’t join the staff for months.

She’d waited until Gil boxed himself completely into a corner before saying sweetly, “Fortunately, Dr. Rattigan’s schedule has changed and we expect him in July. I’ll make sure he works you in right away.”

Displeasure had yielded to reluctant acquiescence, and she’d made the referral. After her husband stepped out, Sheila had thanked Paige earnestly. “I know he’s being stubborn, but he really does want kids. It’s just that doctors intimidate him.”

“Don’t forget about counseling. He might be uncomfortable with the idea of giving sperm, or there could be something else bothering him.”

“I mentioned it, but he’s not interested.”

At least he’d agreed to see Dr. Rattigan. Hopefully, they’d soon have test results and could proceed from there

The visit had sapped what little energy Paige retained. After eating a quick meal at the cafeteria, she drove home on fumes.

As she pulled up, she felt a tug of irritation. In front of her house the shaggy-looking man leaned against her low fence, smoking and drinking beer. Discarded cigarette butts littered her patio and when he spotted her, his face creased smugly.

Paige parked in the garage and got out, trying to decide on her next move. Call the police? She wasn’t sure loitering qualified as a crime, or that it was worth troubling them about.

Then Mike’s silver sedan pulled into her driveway. Climbing out, he lifted a hand in greeting and turned to face the interloper.

In a business suit, with an ink smudge on his jaw, he didn’t exactly resemble a knight in shining armor. But he came the closest Paige had seen in a long time.

Chapter Eleven

Ceding the defense of her home to anyone else went against the grain. Yet today, Paige watched gratefully as Mike, with only the tightening of his fists betraying his tension, calmly addressed the intruder. “Doesn’t drinking beer violate your parole, Willy?”

At the sound of his name, the gray-haired man jerked so hard he dropped the can. Paige smelled the yeasty brew as it ran into the storm drain. “Now look what you made me do!” the man complained. “How’d you know my name, anyway?”

“Willy Kerrigan. You held up a liquor store for a couple of hundred dollars and two six-packs of beer to pay for your drug habit,” Mike said. “I can fill in the details of your parole, if you like.”

“You got no right to snoop on me!” The man’s jaw thrust forward.

“I’m a private detective. Snooping is what I do. Anything else you’d rather I didn’t find out?”

It took Willy only a moment to grasp the implication that pressure would simply make things worse. Giving his head a taut shake, he scooped up the can. “You gonna report me?”

“Only if you keep harassing my housemate,” Mike said levelly.

“You’re living here?” Annoyance flickered over the man’s ferretlike features. “Okay. I’m leaving, see?” He turned away.

“You forgot something.” When the man glanced back, Mike indicated the cigarette butts on the sidewalk.

Lip curling, Willy picked them up. He started to toss them into the gutter, saw a sign warning against putting anything except water in storm drains, and carried them all the way to the halfway house.

Mike hadn’t even raised his voice.

“Impressive,” Paige said. “Thanks.”

“I consider policing the grounds part of my duties as a tenant,” Mike told her as they went inside.

“Good to remember. I’ll be sure to put it in the lease.” Not that she’d given him a lease, although no doubt she ought to.

In the living room, Paige collapsed onto the couch. “Rough day,” she explained. “Usually I prefer to fight my own battles, but I’m glad you were there.”

“So am I.” He stowed his laptop case in a corner, shrugged off his jacket and dropped into an oversize chair. The open collar of his blue shirt revealed a lightly tanned throat and shadowed jawline. “Seems to me men and women tend to complement each other. Different talents, different strengths. Dividing up the responsibilities makes life easier.”

“He-men take out the trash and bonk the burglars, and she-women wear frilly aprons and knead the bread dough?” Paige asked warily.

Her parents had divided up their responsibilities, but it had come at the price of her mother’s avocation as a photographer. Birdy—a nickname she’d preferred to her real name, Bertha—had quit shooting family events in deference to her husband, who liked being in charge of picture-taking. The result was scrapbooks full of poorly composed and over- or underexposed photos that even computer software couldn’t fix.

“I’ve got a woman detective who can bonk burglars with the best of them. But I don’t object to frilly aprons, with as little as possible underneath.” Mike tilted his head as if awaiting Paige’s riposte.

Once, she might have bristled. Instead, she chuckled. “You’re irrepressible.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Depends on my mood.” She fixed him with what she hoped was a piercing look. “And don’t tell me women are moody.”

“No more than men,” he agreed. “It’s fine to get angry as long as you’re up front about it. What I can’t stand is the way my ex-wife hid her anger, then did sneaky things to get back at me.”

“For instance?”

“Claiming she’d bought something I needed at the store and then, when it was too late for me to stop off on the way home, suddenly claiming she forgot.”

“That’s petty,” she said.

“And she cheated on me,” he added sardonically.

With a man who doesn’t come close to measuring up to you, as far as I can tell.
“Which was worse?” Paige asked, only half joking.

“Running out of potato chips.” He gave a dry laugh. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Anything interesting happen today?”

“The doctor I’m filling in for asked me to buy a partnership in the practice.” She described Nora’s offer. “It’s tempting but every time I started to say yes, I felt this wall of resistance. I’m not sure why.”

“Owning your own business is a big step.” Mike rose from the chair. “Before we go into that topic, care for something to drink? There’s wine.”

Delicious as that might taste, alcohol could harm her baby. “Orange juice would be great.”

“You got it.” He returned a minute later with the refreshing drink, and sat down to discuss the pros and cons of business ownership. Mike offered insight from experience, especially about the curse of red tape. Nevertheless, according to him, being your own boss more than outweighed the downside.

Paige had missed having a sounding board, she realized. Whenever something was weighing on her mind, Aunt Bree used to listen and offer feedback. Sometimes, the mere act of airing her thoughts aloud made the right choice obvious.

While she wasn’t ready to make a decision in this instance, Mike’s responses helped clarify her thinking. Yes, she wanted to buy into the practice, except for one problem. She longed to provide her baby with a large, loving family, and that meant moving back to Texas.

Warm, smothering family. Lots of love, lots of advice and lots of interference. But Paige had been gone for years except for brief visits. Perhaps old relationships could be reestablished on a fresh basis.

That would require leaving this delightful house with its precious memories, along with her friends and patients at Safe Harbor. Paige wished she could talk this part over with Mike, too, but that would require disclosing her pregnancy. And while she had to tell him soon, not tonight.

“I’d be happy to refer you to my lawyer and accountant,” Mike was saying. “It’s a good idea to have an independent eye review the paperwork.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“I’ll email the information to you tomorrow.”

“Great.” Paige sprang up to put their glasses in the sink, and discovered that she didn’t feel tired anymore. “How about a swim?”

He glanced toward the window. “It’s getting dark.”

“All the more fun. I don’t dare swim at night by myself.” The ocean presented challenges that even on a routine day ranged from undercurrents to jellyfish, and the city’s lifeguards knocked off at five.

“Oh, danger!” Mike said cheerily. “What are we waiting for?”

She should have known he’d go for the daredevil aspect. “Last one into the water has to fix breakfast.”

“With our clothes on?” He sounded ready to go for it.

“After we’ve changed.” Laughing, Paige headed for her bedroom.

Stripping off her work clothes, she tied on the daring emerald bikini that had made such an impression on Mike the last time he saw it. Pausing to examine her long, slim figure in the mirror, she saw no sign yet of a bulge. Might as well wear the bikini while she could.

She slung a thin strap around her waist, holding a watertight pouch for her key and ID. From the hall linen closet, she grabbed a couple of large towels and hurried into the living room. Mike hovered near the front door, his strong body bare above a pair of red trunks. Heat invaded Paige as she took in his toned chest and narrow waist. To cover her reaction, she tossed him a towel. “That’s for you.”

He slung it over his shoulders. “Thanks. I figured I’d air-dry on the walk home, but this is better.”

When she opened the door, her hot body relished the coolness. “That feels good.”

Mike waited while she set the alarm and locked the door. Then he raised his towel like a banner. “Waffles and scrambled eggs. That’s what I’d like when you cook my breakfast.” Off he shot.

Paige flew forward, glad she’d worn sneakers. Her muscles relished the challenge, and even though Mike had a brief head start, she caught up with him at the intersection with Seaside Lane as he waited for a truck to pass.

They crossed to the beach, empty now of the day’s sunbathers. Ahead, a lingering sunset layered the heavens with cerise and gold against deepening blue. Feeling as if she could fly into that gorgeous sky, Paige pelted over the sand, barely pausing to kick off her shoes and pitch her towel in a heap.

The prospect of beating Mike to the water energized her. While he had the advantage of longer legs, she had more experience gaining traction in the sand, and splashed into the swirl of tidewater first.

“Beatcha!” Paige called, pressing forward through the cool water. As the sand sloped underfoot, she took off swimming.

“Worth it!” Mike cut through a low swell to arrive beside her. “You look great from the back.”

“Waffles, eggs
and
sausage!” she returned, and dove into an oncoming wave.

In the silence beneath the water, she lost track of Mike until he cut under her and surfaced, lifting her on his back and tumbling her into the water again. Paige doubled around like a playful seal and pushed him. Their hips grazed and their legs tangled, and then she swam off. He caught up easily and bumped her in turn.

The next thing she knew, they were somersaulting through the waves, tickling and rolling over each other. His movements adapted easily to hers, as if he could read her intentions, but she got in her share of bumps and nudges.

During a glancing frontal contact, there was no mistaking a hard masculine part of him. Paige knew she ought to quit now, but as her feet found the shallow sandy floor, she couldn’t resist running her hands over the toned muscles on Mike’s chest. She registered every taut fiber of him as his arms captured her waist and his mouth relished hers. Pressing into him, her breasts felt on fire, while her core ached for fulfillment.

Stepping away, Paige struggled to catch her breath. “Maybe we’d better take this indoors.”

“My thought exactly.”

He drew her out of the surf. Without speaking, they collected their towels and sandals.

This was Mike, the man who for an entire year she’d considered too macho and rough-edged. Suddenly, Paige was sharing her house with him, and now…

She refused to think beyond the moment. Everything in her cried out for satisfaction, and why not?

She made her own decisions and took the consequences. Right now, Paige wanted the pure joy of being held and loved, even though it couldn’t last.

She strode home beside Mike, covering the ground almost as fast as when they’d been racing.

* * *

F
OR
MONTHS
, M
IKE
HAD
BEEN
fantasizing about Paige. Given her stubborn independence, he’d figured she would be the one to call it quits tonight when they started getting physical. Instead, she seemed eager and willing as they paced up the sidewalk to her cottage.

Terrific. He’d been ready for an entire year.

If a few concerns tried to raise their ugly heads—pesky reminders of how mismatched expectations and conflicting dreams could wreck relationships—he hammered them down. Let the future take care of its damn self.

How could he resist toweling off her long thick hair, dark auburn and shiny with dampness? In the living room, Mike drew the towel around them both, smoothing the long, plush lines of her waist and breasts, lifting off that sexy bikini top and rubbing the towel across her erect nipples.

Paige hooked her thumbs into the waist of his trunks and tugged him to her bedroom. He’d imagined this scene a hundred different ways this past week, but the reality was unbelievably superior. The velvet of her skin. The hunger in her mouth. The tantalizing light in her eyes as she lowered the trunks over his hips.

Mike had to rein in his need while he retrieved a condom from his room. Returning to find that she’d tossed aside the blue quilt, he drew on the protection, fumbling a couple of times until she reached over and smoothed it on with the skilled fingers of a surgeon.

Heart thundering, he untied the strip of bikini that guarded her secrets. She was beautiful everywhere, just as he’d pictured her. Lowering Paige to the bed, he savored the moment, arousing her with his mouth until she caught his shoulders and pulled him onto her. Even then, he struggled to enter her cautiously until fire flashed over him and seared away all restraint.

Glory raging through him, Mike drove into her, treasuring her gasps of desire, until he stopped to catch his breath. In a flash, Paige rolled him over and took him in her own fashion, breasts and stomach shining with moisture. They tussled again as they had in the surf, tumbling and thrusting, waves washing over and through him until Mike forgot everything except the thrilling crest of pleasure.

As joy faded to a glow, he lay beside her, astonished. Mike had never lost control before, never lost the awareness of himself as a separate being. Not like this.

Drawing the covers over them, Paige rested her cheek on his shoulder. Damp hair brushed his neck. “That was incredible.”

“For me, too.” Holding her, Mike relaxed into the memory of all that splendor. He’d like to do it again, soon.

Despite his intention, his body seemed content to lie here peacefully beside her. After a while, her steady breathing told him she’d drifted into sleep.