To Have the Doctor's Baby

He phrased it the same way she had. Distantly. As if they were talking about another couple being intimate.

Nick remembered all the messy emotions that had nearly brought him down right after she’d left. A guy puts up armor and when a girl gets through it leaves a mark. But this was different. The rules had been discussed and all parties involved agreed. Distanced. Simple. Goal-oriented. She’d get what she wanted. His guilt would be erased. Win/win. Both of them could move on. No feelings, no mess.

“Don’t you want to maximize the chances of conception?” he asked.

“Yes.” She met his gaze and her own was dark with determination. “More than anything in the world I want to have a baby.”

“Well, then?”

“I’ve done the menstrual math. The old-fashioned way,” she added. “By my calculations ovulation is about a week away. Next Monday.”

“So I’ll help you move in Saturday. You don’t want heavy lifting to shock your eggs or anything. Relax the rest of the weekend.”

“You’re sure about this?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah.” The gate on his feelings opened for a split second and excitement leaked out.

“Okay, then. I’ll move in.”

Nick nodded and again his gaze was drawn to the boxes around the room. She’d said it was a mess and only now did he realize that was a metaphor for his life. He hadn’t really expected her to take him up on his offer to move in, but there was no denying he was far too pleased that she had.

In about a week they were going to do what a man and woman did to make a baby. He was pretty pleased about that, too.

Chapter Three

Ryleigh stopped her compact car behind Nick’s silver SUV at the gated entrance to the neighborhood. She watched him lean out the driver’s window and speak to the guard, then cock his thumb toward her, obviously explaining that she would be living with him. That there was no need to call out the SWAT team on her account.

When the SUV pulled forward, she followed, then stopped when the guard held up his hand.

She lowered her window. “Hi.”

“Miss Evans.” This man was different from the one who’d worked the gate when she lived here. He was young, twenty something and wearing a light blue uniform shirt with navy-colored, official-looking emblems. “Doctor Damian explained that you’ll be staying with him.”

“That’s right.” But only for well-timed sex.

He handed her a visitor’s pass. “Just put this on your dashboard and you’re good to go—or stay.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a nice evening.”

“You, too,” she said, displaying the cardboard square where he’d directed.

This was the first time she’d been back since they’d broken up, and driving through the community was surreal. Nothing had changed, but everything felt different. The houses were all large, expensive and well-maintained. But it wasn’t familiar. She felt distant. And sad. She’d really loved the house and this area.

She pulled into the circular drive, parking behind Nick’s car. He was standing beside it. Glancing at the stately, two-story house brought on that surreal feeling again, but really she’d been wearing that hat ever since she’d presented her how-to-conceive-in-a-nanosecond research.

As far as bizarre moments went, that topped the list. But she’d felt it important to mention everything that could possibly expedite the process. She wanted to get pregnant right away for lots of reasons, not the least of which was not to see Nick after mission accomplished. It didn’t seem prudent to tempt fate too far what with her attraction to him still going on. The only way she’d managed to get through her sex notes was by keeping the conversation clinical and detached, as if she were talking about someone else.

But it wasn’t someone else temporarily moving into Nick’s house. It was her, the same woman who’d moved into this place seeing everything by the light of the stars in her eyes and the delusion that they were going to be blissfully happy there for the rest of their lives. She wasn’t sure which philosopher said the only thing we could count on was change, but the time came when she’d wanted to choke him. She hated change. It was almost always bad.

Bliss and happiness were elusive and highly overrated. Living in the real world wasn’t as much fun, but the highs and lows were smoothed out into straight and steady. She could live with straight and steady.

Blowing out a cleansing breath, she opened her car door and stepped onto the concrete drive separating the house from the landscaping. The dry riverbed running through the length of the yard was still dry and lined with smooth rocks. It was bordered by gold and purple flowering lantana bushes. Everything looked just as it had when she’d left. Nothing had changed but her.

“Why don’t I take your things inside?” Nick said.

His deep voice from behind startled her out of the bittersweet reverie. She turned and forced a big smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

After she unlocked her trunk and started to pull out her suitcase, he put a hand on hers.

“I’ll get it. I’m pretty sure it hasn’t gotten any lighter since I put it in there.”

“Thanks.”

His palm was big and strong, his fingers warm. The touch had heat pooling in her belly and flushing her cheeks. Twilight had dropped shadows over the craggy mountains not so far away, and she was pretty sure Nick couldn’t see how the brush of his hand affected her.

That was something else that hadn’t changed. But attraction without emotion was like a bow without an arrow—no power to wound.

It took several trips to carry suitcases, garment bags and toiletries into the house. He’d suggested she stay here while looking for a permanent place of her own and she’d brought a lot of clothes with her. The apartment was utilitarian and good for storage, but she’d be more comfortable in a house.

Looking around the two-story entry, she wasn’t so sure. Memories attacked from every direction. Nick carrying her over the threshold when they bought the place. The huge kitchen with granite countertops was especially bittersweet. He’d made love to her beside the stainless-steel refrigerator because his eyes went smoky, her insides turned liquid and they simply couldn’t hold back. In fact, the day they moved in he’d declared his intention to make love to her in every room of the house. They’d nearly met that challenge.

She scanned the family room with its big flat-screen TV and the dark green corner group in front of it. In spite of all her efforts to stop it, a big sigh leaked out.

Nick stopped beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Afraid he would see the lie, she didn’t look at him. “Why?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just checking out the old stomping grounds.”

He rested his hands on lean hips. His jeans were worn nearly white in the most interesting places. The long sleeves of his navy-blue shirt were rolled up, revealing wide wrists and a dusting of dark hair on his forearms. He always dressed casually, and right now was no exception. It also wasn’t an indication of whether or not he was working. He’d told her Carlton Gallagher was on call today, and she wondered if she should feel honored. Maybe tomorrow.

“And?”

“What?” She was a little disturbed by how easily one look at him could annihilate her concentration.

“How does it look? Your old stomping grounds.”

“The same,” she answered truthfully. “I was just remembering how festive everything was at Christmas.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “You mean with the tree in here instead of the living room?”

“Yeah.”

“I stand by what I said then.”