Two Doctors and A Baby

She sent him a scathing look. “You said you don’t have bedposts.”

“Because I don’t,” he confirmed. “Which I’d be happy to prove to you if you come down the hall with me and—”

She cut him off by shoving an envelope against his chest. “This is why I’m here.”

He held her gaze for a long minute before he opened the flap and pulled out a single page. He immediately recognized the logo of Charisma Medical Laboratories at the top, then saw her name in the “patient name” box. “What is this?”

“You did get that MD behind your name from medical school, didn’t you?”

“Okay, I guess what I should have asked is ‘why is this?’”

“New Year’s Eve.”

His brows lifted.

She huffed out a breath. “I should have figured you’d make me spell it out. We didn’t just have sex, Garrett. We had unprotected sex.”

Justin nodded soberly. While he had no objections to casual sex, he was never careless about protection. Not since that one time when he was a teenager. That one time—one forgotten condom and one terrifying pregnancy false alarm—had been enough to scare the bejesus out of him and make him swear that he would never be caught unprepared again.

And he never had—until he’d found himself in a hospital supply closet with Avery. Then everything had happened so fast, and his desperate need for her had overridden everything else.

“I’m sorry,” he said, because although the words were grossly inadequate they were also true.

“Obviously neither of us was thinking clearly that night or what happened between us never would have happened,” she said.

He wondered how it was that—despite all the other thoughts screaming in his head—he could be amused by such a prim remark delivered in her characteristically cool tone. Wanting to shake some of that cool, he stepped closer to her.

“We had sex, Avery. Incredible...mind-blowing...ground-shaking sex.”

“I was there,” she acknowledged, her gaze remaining fixed on the ceramic tile floor. “I know what happened.”

He tipped her chin up. “So why can’t you say it?”

She jerked her head away. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Because I used to take pride in the fact that I was one of probably only a handful of women on staff at the hospital who had not slept with Dr. Romeo—and I can’t say that anymore.”

He’d grown accustomed to the nickname so that it didn’t bother him anymore. Not that he would acknowledge, anyway. “Honey, I haven’t slept with that many women who work there.”

“I don’t care,” she insisted. “Or I wouldn’t care, except that now I’m one of them.”

“It’s not as if I’ve been walking around wearing a sign—I Melted Dr. Wall-ice.”

She glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”

“I agree,” he said. “Nor is it anything to be ashamed of. We’re two unattached, consenting adults who gave in to a mutual and compelling attraction.”

“We had unprotected sex.”

He nodded. “My bad. I’m not in the habit of carrying condoms in my scrub shirt,” he said, attempting a casualness he did not feel. “But that still doesn’t explain—” he held up the lab report “—this.”

“I wanted to reassure you that there’s no reason for you to worry—” she bit down on her lower lip “—on my side, I mean.”

“But you’re worried about mine,” he realized.

He couldn’t blame her for being concerned. He was well aware of his reputation around the hospital—and well aware that it had been greatly exaggerated. That knowledge had never bothered him before, but now, seeing Avery’s misery and distress, he wished he’d clarified a few things. Or a lot of things.

Of course, it was too late now. She’d obviously made up her mind about him and nothing he said was going to change it. He put the lab report back into the envelope and returned it to her. “Most of the other women I’ve been with just want to cuddle after sex.”

“Most of the other women are why I’d like some quid pro quo.”

He nodded. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_58b174b6-aa94-5ca0-ad44-3eec6b9c13b5)

In retrospect, Avery probably could have handled the situation better, but the whole experience with Justin was way outside her comfort zone. She wasn’t great with personal relationships in general, and men like Justin—not that there were many men like Justin—flustered her beyond belief.

He was so totally confident and unapologetically sexy, and completely aware of the effect he had on people. Especially women. It was why, for most of the three and a half years she’d worked at Mercy Hospital, she’d put as much distance between them as possible.

Of course, distance wasn’t always possible. There were times that they needed to consult and collaborate with respect to the care of patients, and at those times, she did what had to be done, careful to maintain a calm facade and professional demeanor. But when she had a choice, she chose to stay far away from his orbit, because she didn’t trust herself to resist the magnetic pull that he seemed to exert on women without even trying. She hadn’t been able to resist it on New Year’s Eve. She hadn’t wanted to resist him.

When she’d realized that they’d had sex without a condom, she’d panicked a little. Or maybe a lot. And then she’d started to think about all the possible repercussions of having unprotected sex with a man who’d had numerous other sexual partners. As a doctor, she would have been irresponsible to ignore his history, especially after she’d already been irresponsible in having unprotected sex with him.

She didn’t see much of Justin over the next few days after her visit to his apartment, which wasn’t unusual. Depending on their schedules, she might cross paths with him numerous times in a day or not at all for several shifts. What was unusual was that she found herself looking for him, wondering when she might see him and even the wondering filled her stomach with an uncomfortable fluttery feeling.

When she did see him, his demeanor toward her was nothing but professional, and she strove to treat him with the same courtesy. But her awareness of him was heightened now, and whenever he was near, her body stirred with not just memories but longing.

Friday afternoon, she’d just finished a consult regarding the course of action for a multiple pregnancy when he caught her in the conference room.

“I’ve got those test results you wanted,” he told her.

She’d been so focused on her work that it took Avery a moment to realize what he was talking about. But when she did, the knots that had been in her belly since New Year’s Day tightened.

She looked at him expectantly. His statement suggested that he intended to share the results with her, but his hands were empty. “Are you actually going to let me see them?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “At dinner tonight.”

She sighed. “Dr. Garrett—”

“Dr. Wallace,” he countered, his tone amused.

“I’m not going to have dinner with you.”

“Yes, you are,” he said confidently. “Because you want to hold the lab report in your hands and meticulously scrutinize every letter and digit.”

She did, of course. Because she needed to be sure. But she didn’t believe he, as a medical professional, would really hold back the results. Certainly not if there was any reason for her to be concerned.