The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / The Texas Billionaire's Baby: The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / Baby By Surprise

Sara Beth threw up her hands. “Because you’d been after me for months to do so. Now that I have, you’re making a federal case out of it.”

“Not about the clothes, sweetheart, and you know it.”

“I remember all your lessons, Mom. All of them. Don’t date doctors and especially don’t fall in love with them. I got it. I’ve heeded it. Is that a new hairstyle?” she asked lightly.

Her mother laughed. “All right. I’ll lay off. For now.”

“Forev—”

“It’s a little shorter,” Grace said, fluffing her hair. “And just a tad blonder.”

While her mother relayed the latest gossip from her hairstylist, Sara Beth debated whether to bring up the subject of her father … donor. She really didn’t want to resort to sneaking a look at her mother’s file, breaking rules, risking the chance of getting caught, but she’d waited long enough. And the opportunity to learn about her father might never come her way again.

But just then they arrived at Santini’s, and the moment passed, at least for now. It wasn’t a subject she could bring up in a public venue, especially if her mother got as angry as she had the other times Sara Beth had asked.

So they settled into noncontroversial topics for the rest of the evening, then on the walk home, Grace said casually, “I won’t be able to have dinner next Tuesday.”

“How come?”

“I’m going to Cancún for a week. I leave on Saturday.”

Is she blushing? Sara Beth wondered, eyeing her. “Who’re you going with?”

“No one. I just wanted a break from winter.”

“You’re going alone?” She and her mother had traveled together a lot through the years, but mostly driving trips to the shore.

“Would you like to come?”

“I can’t. Not right now. But why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“I decided this morning. I found an incredible deal for an all-inclusive resort. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m excited about it.”

Something wasn’t ringing true, Sara Beth decided. On the surface, maybe her mother was being honest, but there was more to it.

“E-mail me your itinerary,” Sara Beth said, giving her mother a hug. Maybe after the trip, she would open up. “And have fun. Remember your sunscreen. I do envy you a week of sunshine.”

“And margaritas.”

“That, too.”

During the bus ride home, Sara Beth tried to examine her mother’s announcement. She wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment person. Like Sara Beth, her mother analyzed, planned, then finally executed, usually to unsurprising results. Taking off for Cancún on only a few days’ notice was shocking enough, but to go alone?

Sara Beth’s cell phone rang as she stepped off the bus at her stop.

“Hi, it’s Ted. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

She knew his voice already, the deep, even tone that shot a thrill through her. The voice she hadn’t dared to hope she would hear. “No. Actually you’re keeping me company.”

“In what way?”

“I just got off the bus and I’m walking home. What’s up?”

“You know that stack of catalogs and magazines you gave me today?”

“Of course.” She’d asked him to thumb through them and turn down the pages of what appealed to him, then she could figure out where they needed to shop.

“I’m not seeing anything I like.”

“Nothing?” She’d given him everything from Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware catalogs to Architectural Digest magazines.

“Does that mean it’s hopeless?” he asked.

“I don’t know what it means. Maybe I’ll know more when I see the art you want to display.” She was curious about his loft, too, was looking forward to seeing where he lived. “Or maybe what it means is you should take Tricia up on her offer to help. Or hire a real decorator.”

He didn’t respond immediately. “Let’s see what we can do first. Where are you?”

“Not far from home. Why?”

“Can you see your house?”

“No, but I will in a few seconds. There. It’s in view. Why?”

“Just trying to get a picture of how far you’d gotten.” His tone was casual, but—

It hit her then. He was watching over her. He was keeping her on the phone until she was safely home. Maybe he gave his mother credit for drumming etiquette into him, but this wasn’t etiquette. This was a character trait, one she valued, and probably deeply ingrained in him.

Sara Beth was raised to be independent, like her mother. They’d never had a man around to help. It was always just the two of them, or the handyman they hired occasionally when a job was beyond their skills.

“I’m turning up my walkway,” she said, letting him know she knew what he was doing. “Climbing the first step. The second. Third. I’ve reached the landing.”

She heard him laugh softly, so she put a little drama into her voice. “I’m inserting the key in my lock. Oh, look! It’s turning. I’m opening the door. Now I’m shutting it—”

“And locking it.”

She put her phone next to the bolt as it fell into place. Locked.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No.” And she wasn’t. Warmth at his concern wove through her. She swallowed, not knowing what to tell him, so she just continued on with her running commentary. “I’m climbing the indoor stairs… unlocking my door … going inside … shutting and locking it. Done. Thank you. I couldn’t have managed it without you.”

He laughed.

“No, seriously, Ted, that was very thoughtful of you, walking me home.”

“That’s what friends are for.”