To Have the Doctor's Baby

“Agreed.” But his blue eyes turned a little dark and broody.

“We need to keep it simple and uncomplicated. Although Vito will be disappointed about no romance. But that’s the best way to mess up a wonderful friendship.”

“That works for me.”

“No matter what,” she added emphatically.

“Do you want me to pinkie swear?” he asked, holding up his little finger.

“If that’s a guarantee—yes,” she said, crooking hers and curving it around his outstretched finger.

“Okay. What else?”

She dropped her hand into her lap as she thought. “That’s the only rule that comes to mind.”

He smiled. “Did that feel too easy to you?”

“Give me a minute. I’ll think of something to make problems. Oh, right, about why we’re here.” Between the wine and his teasing, she began to relax. “I need to do some research on the internet about how to conceive a baby.”

Nick’s eyes sparkled with amusement over the top of the glass as he sipped his wine. “Unless anatomy or the mechanics of procreation have changed since I went to med school, conception is probably achieved in the usual way.”

“Funny guy.”

Not.

Their shoulders brushed and tingles of awareness danced through her. Her skin was hot, sensitive and she was pretty sure that was about anticipation. Getting naked with Nick was never far from her mind since she’d decided he should father her baby. And it was worse after walking into Peretti’s. Like he’d said, muscle memory.

“You used to appreciate my sense of humor,” he reminded her.

“I still do.” It was one of her favorite things about him. “Let me be more specific. I want to find out the optimum time of the month. To conceive. And anything else that might increase the odds of achieving the desired objective.”

“If you’d like, I can talk to Rebecca Hamilton.”

Aside from the fact that their agreement wasn’t for public consumption, she didn’t really want him talking to another woman about her and the baby. “Is that your girlfriend?”

“She’s a girl. And she’s a friend who’s married. Also a doctor. Ob-gyn. Any information you need, I’m sure she’ll have.”

“Oh.” Ryleigh refused to believe the ugly feeling churning through her had anything to do with jealousy. “Maybe. But are you prepared to answer her questions about why you’re asking?”

“Not really.”

Was his voice just a tiny bit hoarse? His eyes narrowed and more intense than moments ago? The expression reminded her of how he looked when he wanted her. A woman who’d craved even the barest amount of attention from the man she was completely in love with wasn’t likely to forget the look on his face when he wanted her.

Ryleigh cleared her throat. “Okay, so how about this. I’ll do my research and we’ll regroup.”

“Just let me know when and where,” he said.

“Give me a couple days. My place next time. It’s near the hospital so that will be convenient for us both.”

“I’ll be there.”

There might have been eagerness in his tone or it could just be wishful thinking on her part. It had happened before. Once upon a time she’d mistaken his wanting her as a sign that he reciprocated her feelings because she’d so desperately hoped he would. Now she knew better, but knowing better didn’t stop the hitch in her breathing, the pumped-up pulse. If just thinking about sex made her feel like this, what would actual sex do?

Make a baby, she hoped.

And that would be the end of it. No strings attached. Love had made everything difficult, but she’d learned her lesson and wasn’t going there again. That ship had sailed. But attraction was a different story. She was still attracted to Nick and that was a good thing.

It would help when the time came to get her pregnant.

Several days later, at the appointed time, Nick knocked on Ryleigh’s door. Her place was on the second floor located in an apartment complex behind Mercy Medical Center. He’d just finished up evening rounds and his two patients were doing well. Barring complications, he expected to discharge them the next morning.

The anticipation of seeing his ex-wife tonight had hummed through him all day. He hadn’t missed her these last two years, not exactly. Every time the idea of it crept in, he shut the feeling down. But now that she was back, well it was safe to say he was in a pretty good mood. More than one person had commented on that today and it was probably not a coincidence that all of them were women.

The door opened, and there was the one woman who’d occupied more of his thoughts than he was comfortable with. “Ryleigh.”

“Hi, Nick. Come in.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. After he walked in, she shut it behind him. “This place is still a mess. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not on my account.”

There were moving boxes stacked around the perimeter of the room and several on the dinette just off the kitchen. He stood in the living room with its charmless beige couch and matching chair. There was a faux-wood coffee table and matching end tables with ugly orange ceramic lamp, times two. “Don’t tell me. The place came furnished.”

“Pretty hideous, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Not in so many words.”

But looking at Ryleigh cancelled out the unattractive stuff. In worn jeans that hugged her curves and a pale yellow sweater she was like a slice of sunshine. Her shiny hair was pulled back in a ponytail and gold hoops dangled from her ears. As good as his mood had been, it got better still, just staring at her.

She sighed. “I had delusions of actually cooking, but work and research got in the way. How do you feel about Chinese takeout?”

“I’m easy.”

“Good. The food cartons, plates and eating utensils are in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll get drinks. We’ll eat in here.”

He walked in the kitchen and saw all his favorite Chinese food on display. Spring rolls. Sweet and sour chicken. Chow mein. A fork and one set of chopsticks. He’d tried to teach her how to use them and smiled at the memory of flying food and her swearing. But that was then and this was now. Ryleigh and Nick, Part Two. Simple, uncomplicated sex. Guys would kill to be in his shoes.

He set his plate down on one of the paper towels on the coffee table. Place mats. How very Ryleigh of her. She brought him a club soda with lime.

“I figured you were on call.”

“Yeah.” He always was and it left no time for them when they were married.

“I’m not.”

She set a glass of white wine beside his drink and settled next to him on the couch. They ate in silence and it wasn’t awkward. It was nice. Felt like old times.

“How was your day?” she asked.