Her Best Friend's Baby

He shrugged. “Sure, maybe, but that doesn’t mean that I want to parade around in those kind of clothes now.”

“Betcha do.”

He sighed and settled back against the seat. “You’re going to take me to a Western store, aren’t you?”

“When was the last time you tried on a cowboy hat?”

“A cowboy hat? You think I’m going to put out my hard-earned money for a damned hat? I might need some shirts and pants, but I do not need a hat.”

MORGAN nearly knocked the Stetson off his head when he climbed in the Beetle two hours later. “See? It gets in the way,” he complained to Mary Jane, who looked incredibly smug about the entire shopping expedition. “I’ll probably lose this very expensive hat in no time.”

“No, you won’t. Not if you took a good look at yourself in that full-length mirror. The hat is essential.” She closed her door and gave him a triumphant glance. “Did you or did you not have more fun buying those duds than you have ever had shopping for boring suits and ties?”

Well, he had, but he felt guilty about it. The fact was, he’d never had so much fun shopping for clothes in his life. And fun wasn’t what he was supposed to be having right now. “At least I have something to cover my body with that doesn’t look as if it went through the trash compactor.”

“There you go.” She seemed satisfied with his response, as if she could tell from his tone that he’d enjoyed himself. “Now let’s hit the grocery store and then we’ll go home.”

Home. They needed to talk about their living arrangements. “Look, if I’ll be staying a little while, then I think sleeping on the couch downstairs is the best—”

“I’d absolutely planned on that.” She gunned the engine and made it through a yellow light.

He wondered if she’d planned on that. During the shopping spree she’d had many excuses to touch him while she’d checked the fit of a shirt or the length of his jeans. She’d taken those opportunities. And to his shame, he’d liked that part of the expedition most of all.

But a few casual touches were one thing. They weren’t going to share a bed again. Sharing her town house might be risky, but moving into a hotel would defeat the whole purpose of his staying. He needed to stay clear on his purpose. He and Mary Jane were the two people most affected by Arielle’s death, and it was only logical that they’d ride out the storm together, at least during these first few days. They were a safe haven for each other. They could trust each other with their tears.

On top of that, he needed to consider the health of his baby. If Mary Jane went into a depression because she’d lost Arielle, then she wouldn’t eat right or exercise. She might forget to take her vitamins. The pregnancy could be compromised. He wanted to make sure that she was in good mental health before he went back to New York.

Come to think of it, he’d probably have to make a few trips to Texas in the next four months to check on her. She’d had a sweet tooth before this tragedy, judging from the evidence he’d found in her kitchen. That was a problem that could quickly get out of hand. Yes, he definitely needed to monitor her progress closely.

“You’re smiling.” She whipped the little car into the parking lot of a large grocery store. “I knew those clothes would cheer you up.”

Startled, he glanced at her. He hadn’t been aware of smiling and he hadn’t been thinking about his new clothes. He’d been thinking of spending time with her.

“I’ll bet wearing those jeans and boots reminds you of the fun you used to have playing when you were a little kid,” she said.

“Maybe.” He wasn’t about to admit the real reason he’d been smiling. She was liable to read something into it.

“Something else I’ve always wondered.” She slipped the car neatly into a parking spot and cut the engine.

“What’s that?”

“How come you decided to be a pediatrician? I mean, once you made a decision to be a doctor, why didn’t you go, Hey, I think I’ll be a brain surgeon, or maybe a heart surgeon.”

He recognized familiar territory. Not particularly attractive territory, but familiar. “You mean because it might pay better?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Funny, but Arielle tried to convince me to switch over to one of those specialties while I was still in med school. Did you guys talk about that or something?”

“No, no, we didn’t. She seemed pretty happy about your job.”

“Well, yeah, she was.” But she hadn’t always been. He’d shoved that terrible fight under a stack of happier memories. She’d nearly broken their engagement when he wouldn’t consider restructuring his classes so he’d be qualified for a more glamorous specialty.

“I feel comfortable with kids,” he said. “Always have. In high school I did one of those shadowing things where you spend time with people in professions you’d like to enter. I shadowed an older woman who’d been in pediatrics for thirty years. I knew I’d found what I wanted to do.”

Her blue eyes shone. “That’s so wonderful. Not very many people find their calling in life so early. You’re very lucky.”

“Lucky? That’s kind of a strange thing to say right now, Mary Jane.”

Her expressive eyes clouded and she laid a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” he said gently. There was her touch again, making him yearn for things he couldn’t have. “And you’re right. In some ways, I’ve been very lucky. I wonder if it’s true, that life has a way of evening out. Strike it rich in one area and you’re liable to strike out somewhere else.”

“I refuse to believe that.” Her grip on his arm tightened. “I refuse to believe that just because something good comes along, something bad is right on its heels.”

He watched her mouth and realized he’d never even kissed her. He knew what it was like to sink deep inside her and feel her powerful contractions, but he had no idea how her lips tasted. And he would never know. “Or just because something bad comes along, something good is right on its heels?”

“That’s more reasonable,” she said. “Now, let’s shop.” She opened her door and got out of the car.

He chuckled. It was hard not to with Mary Jane around. It was hard not to feel alive and hopeful, although the positive emotions she inspired carried a certain amount of guilt. “I like your way of looking at things,” he said as they walked together toward the store’s entrance.

“And my taste in men’s clothing?” she prompted, giving him the once-over.

“It’s different. I would never have picked a shirt with blue lightning streaks across the shoulders.”

“It looks good. You should probably stay close to me and pretend we’re a couple or somebody’s liable to hit on you.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Then wander by yourself down the aisles and see what happens, if you don’t believe me. Thanks to my suggestions, you’re now a genuine piece of eye candy.”

He laughed out loud and was sure his face was red. No woman, not even Arielle, had ever paid him such an outrageous compliment. He’d made points with women by being an all-around good guy, but he’d never considered himself sexy-looking. Having a twenty-two-year-old tossing out comments like that was likely to go to his head.

And become addicting.

GOOD THING she’d dressed Morgan in snug jeans and a hat that made him look like John Michael Montgomery. If he hadn’t looked so damned good, she would have killed him in the bakery aisle, Mary Jane decided.

The man was determined to stuff her full of everything green and deprive her of the finer things of life, like the Black Forest cake that had been on sale for half price. She might even have paid full price for a beauty like that, with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and bright red cherries sitting on top like beacons of delight. About the only thing she could say about this load of veggies was that they weren’t all that expensive, so if they went bad she wouldn’t have wasted much money on them. Maybe the birds would like some of this stuff.

“I could have frozen half of that cake,” she grumbled as he positioned the cart next to the checkout counter and began unloading enough produce to make Peter Rabbit jump for joy. “Then it would have been spread out longer. It’s not like I planned to eat it all at once, you know.”

“That thing was made from white flour and white sugar, and I’ll bet it was loaded with preservatives. We picked up lots of fruit. That’s about a thousand times better for your system.”

“So you’re one of those misguided people who thinks fruit constitutes dessert?”

“Sure. Fruit and cheese.” He kept putting things on the conveyor belt.

Mary Jane eyed them, thinking that most of that kind of food had never been in her house, let alone in her stomach. “Fruit and cheese is a snack,” she said. “It’s fine in its place, but don’t try to tell me that it could ever, in a zillion years, take the place of cherry pie à la mode. Ask any of my customers which they consider dessert. And to make my point, we don’t have fruit and cheese as one of the selections for dessert at Austin Eats Diner. So there.”