To Have the Doctor's Baby

“Good. You?”

“I’m settling in. Lots of meetings. Strategizing about new and creative ways to raise money for Children’s Medical Charities. It’s a challenge in this economy.”

“If anyone can talk the people into parting with their money, it’s you.” Nick should know. She’d somehow convinced him to go along with this baby thing.

When they finished eating she cleared the plates, refilled their drinks, then went down the hall and brought back a bunch of file folders from the second bedroom she used as a home office.

She put the tall stack of paperwork on the coffee table then sat beside him again. “My research.”

“No wonder you fed me first. To keep up my strength.”

“Having a baby isn’t as easy as you might think.” Her cocoa-colored eyes danced with laughter.

“And here I thought it was all about biology.”

“That. And timing. It’s critical.” She opened a file. “But there are things that can boost the odds of conceiving.”

“Such as?”

“The goal is to fertilize the egg.”

“Yeah. I think that was covered in Birds and Bees 101.” He moved closer, glancing at her computer printout, but mostly to feel the warmth of her. Draw in the sweet floral fragrance of her skin. That was something he’d missed and it hadn’t responded to the shut-down-feelings therapy.

“Everyone can use a refresher course. Even you, Doctor.” She looked at her notes. “Ovulation is the key. Besides guessing about when it occurs, there are ovulation predictor kits available at the pharmacy and basal-body-temperature-charts to know when it’s happening.”

“Really?”

All this fell into her territory and he didn’t need to know. But he liked watching her when she talked, the intensity and enthusiasm. The combination made her so damn beautiful he could hardly breathe. Still, this wasn’t about him. The amount of time and effort she’d put into this was a clear indication of how deep her desire to have a baby.

“When you pee on the stick from a kit, it will turn purple the day before ovulation, indicating a surge in…” She stopped and read from the paper. “Luteinizing hormone, which is what causes the ovary to release an egg. The key is to time sex within a day of the LH surge.”

Nick was focused on her mouth and pretty much didn’t hear much of anything until she said “sex.” He didn’t need a predictor kit or a thermometer to know he had a surge of his own and a spike in body temp.

He said the only thing he could think of, what with the blood flowing south of his belt. “Science is pretty amazing.”

“And fascinating.”

“Anything else I need to know?” Like when and where. Now was okay with him. He took a sip of water and not because he was thirsty.

“There was some information about positions during sex.”

He nearly choked. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Missionary might be more promising, but there aren’t any studies to back it up.”

If Ryleigh was involved, he’d be willing to volunteer for research on the subject. “Okay. I can see where that would be practical.”

“Then I saw something about lying still afterward. Remaining horizontal for fifteen minutes.” She shuffled through the papers, looking embarrassed and pretty damn cute. “Again, there’s no evidence to support the theory that it makes a difference, but it can’t hurt, either.”

So, a woman’s inclination to cuddle afterward might be based in biology and science, not emotion, he thought. “Got it.”

“I found a website with frequently asked questions.”

“Okay, now I’m starting to get performance anxiety.”

She slid to her corner of the couch and tucked her legs up beside her. A flush crept into her cheeks, and she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

She crossed her arms at her waist. “There was some discussion about a woman achieving climax—to increase the chances of conceiving.”

No pressure.

“And?” When she hesitated, he said, “Don’t tell me. There are no studies.”

She laughed. “No. But there’s a belief that the contractions move the guys along toward the target.”

“It makes sense.”

But he could truthfully say that not once when he’d made love to her had his goal been to move the guys. He’d only ever wanted to hold her in his arms, make her happy. And he was pretty sure he’d succeeded in bed. In every other way, he’d failed her, which was why making things up to her now was so important.

She lifted her gaze for a moment. “And last but not least there’s the debate about a.m. or p.m.”

“Morning or night—what?”

“Sex.” She sat cross-legged and leaned forward. “Studies have been done on this one and some indicate that there are more swimmers in the morning. But only a million, give or take. Fairly insignificant.”

“Hey, that’s my guys you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate.” She smiled, and the way her eyes lit up tied him in knots. “The thing is that when you’re talking eighty-eight million as opposed to eighty-seven million, it sounds like a lot but really isn’t.”

“I actually knew that only one is required.” Was it just him, or was it hot in here?

“Right.”

His gaze slid past hers to the bare walls, stack of boxes and unattractive, serviceable furniture. She was a nester and looked out of place in this cracker box with ugly furniture. It was just wrong. Fixing people was what he did, and the words popped out of his mouth before he’d thought them through.

“Move in with me.”

She blinked and sat up straighter. “What?”

“To achieve your objective, timing is everything. If that predictor stick turns purple, your body temp goes up and nature is good to go, what happens if you’re here and I’m there?” He shrugged. “It’s the classic setup for missed opportunities.”

“There’s some logic to that, but I don’t know, Nick.” She caught her lip between her teeth, the very first time she’d looked indecisive. “Invading your space?”

Her lack of enthusiasm made him want to convince her even more. “It was your space, too.” He’d gotten the house in the divorce. “There’s plenty of room, as you know. And we don’t want to drag out the process, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Like science, nature and biology it’s practical.”