The Doctor's Baby Secret

‘And who might that be?’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, that, Lieutenant Commander, would be me. See you in Houston.’ And she turned on her heel and left.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_a1c73680-cce7-549b-94ce-fc277ff36c16)

AUSTIN PULLED UP a stool next to Michael at the bar and they clinked their beer bottles together. ‘Here’s to the next eighteen months.’ Michael smiled. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d met a few hours ago—he was still getting over the delight of being selected for the programme.

Austin took a long slow drink of his beer. The bar was packed. And judging from the photos on the walls it seemed it was a long-time favourite of the astronauts based in Houston, Texas. He tried not to stare but it was difficult—he’d followed the careers of most of these astronauts at one point. He’d even done a school project on the first moon landing. Space had always been the dream and these guys were his real-life heroes.

A tune started cranking out from the old-style jukebox in the corner of the room. It was probably older than him and he couldn’t help but smile as the lyrics of ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feelin’’ echoed around the room. There were murmurs beside him as people started to sing along.

The door swung open, letting in a bright streak of orange sunset. He recognised the silhouette straight away. Curves, curves and more curves.

She was wearing a dark suit similar to the one she’d had on the other day. A one-button jacket accentuating her waist and breasts and a knee-skimming skirt. Her blonde hair was smooth and sleek today—he thought he preferred it windswept and interesting, as it had been that first day.

She walked straight over to the bar and nodded at the barman, who seemed to know her drink. He set down a glass in front of her, which she picked up before heading off to one of the booths to sit next to the other instructors.

Michael bumped his elbow. ‘Which one is she, then?’

Austin took another swig of beer. ‘That’s Dr Corrine Carter—one of the medical team.’

Michael frowned. ‘Corrine Carter. That’s quite a sharp name. Sounds edgy.’

Austin watched as she glided into the leather seats in the booth. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said smoothly. ‘It looks all curves to me.’

The bartender came back and smiled. ‘Well, I guess it’s you, then.’

The two heads turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’ asked Michael.

The bartender nodded at Austin. ‘Every year, one of the astronaut candidates asks one of the instructors to dance. It’s a tradition.’ He smiled at Austin. ‘Looks like it’s going to be you.’

Austin shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

One of the other candidates—Taryn—leaned on the bar. She nodded. ‘I think I’ve heard of this before.’ Her eyes connected with Austin’s. ‘I think he’s serious.’ She glanced over at Corrine and smiled as she took a swig of her drink. ‘What’s wrong, Bates, you scared?’

Every other candidate’s head turned. It seemed as if the bartender had their full attention.

Austin tried not to smile. The girl was good. She already knew how to press all his buttons. He’d have to watch her in future.

The bartender laughed. He must have seen this all before. And Taryn almost made it sound like a dare. ‘Just be thankful for equal opportunities.’ He winked at Austin. ‘One year it was all male candidates and all male instructors.’

The candidates around burst out laughing as Austin pushed the bar stool back and stood up. He put his bottle of beer back on the bar. He glanced over at Corrine. She was in mid conversation with her colleagues, her blonde hair sitting perfectly on her shoulders. She’d slipped off her jacket and was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved fitted shirt. He could see her defined, tanned arms and her long fingers playing in the condensation on the side of her glass. That simple act sent little pulses to places it shouldn’t.

He raised his eyebrows, straightened his uniform and gave a cheeky smile to his colleagues. ‘I’m never one to step away from a challenge,’ he said confidently.

His colleagues whoop-whooped around him. It was bravado. But only he knew that. He was pretty sure what was going to happen next.

Michael grinned. ‘Watch out, Bates. That’s a slippery slope you’re on.’

Austin blinked and took a final drink of his beer. ‘I know,’ he said, smiling as he walked over to the booth.

* * *

She’d seen him as soon as she’d entered the bar. It was amazing how supersonic your vision could become when you focused on not looking at someone. Really focused on not looking at someone. It was much harder than you thought.

The gin wasn’t nearly as refreshing as she wanted it to be. Usually just a few sips made her chill. Tonight she was wound up tighter than a coiled spring. She shuffled along next to the other instructors, slipped off her suit jacket and tried to focus on what they were saying.

‘His points were off the chart.’

‘He really scored that highly?’

She took another sip of her gin. ‘Who are we talking about?’

‘Bates. Austin Mitchell. Also known as Superboy.’

Great. Perfect. The last person she wanted to talk about. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call him a boy.’

Marcia, one of the other instructors, raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Then just what would you call him?’

The other instructors started laughing good-humouredly. Frank, the guy on her left, nudged her. ‘You gave him the news—how was he?’

Corrine tried not to look flustered and she remembered exactly how he’d looked in that dark hangar with his smouldering eyes. ‘A pain in the neck. He’s too confident.’

‘Aren’t they all?’ Marcia laughed.

Corrine shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. Lisa Kravitz the school teacher—she didn’t expect it at all. She was totally stunned. Lewis Donnell, the marine—he and his whole unit couldn’t have made more noise if they’d tried.’

Marcia looked at her curiously. ‘So what did Bates do that was so different?’

Corrine licked her lips. The mixture of gin and cherry ChapStick wasn’t exactly enticing. She was still annoyed by his less than enthusiastic reaction. ‘Nothing. That was exactly the point. Nothing. It was like he’d expected it all along. I mean, there’s no way anyone could be that confident. There are a thousand different reasons a candidate wouldn’t be selected for the programme.’

Adam—the oldest instructor and a former astronaut himself—gave a secret kind of smile. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes that’s the best attitude. The winning attitude. You don’t have room in your mind to think it won’t actually happen.’

Corrine sighed and ran her finger around the edge of her glass. She’d changed her mind about the gin. A spritzer would have hit the mark much better. She reached over for an empty wine glass on the table and filled it up with some white wine sitting in a cooler next to Marcia.

‘What’s the deal with the call sign anyway? Shouldn’t it be something much cooler?’

‘Like what?’ Frank took a swig of his beer and shifted in his seat.

‘You know, like Maverick or Viper or Cougar or... Lightning.’ She was grasping at straws now.

Frank shook his head. ‘You watch way too many movies, Corrine.’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘But why Bates? It’s not anything like his name. And it’s kind of boring.’

Frank laughed. ‘Oh, that’s easy.’ Then he shook his head. ‘And it’s certainly not boring.’

She wrinkled her nose. Frank had been a Top Gun instructor too. Maybe it was some weird navy thing she didn’t know about.