The Brennan Baby. Barbara Boswell

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The Brennan Baby - Barbara  Boswell


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agree with Mark,” Carmen put in. “You can’t leave the day after moving in, Gilly. Where will you go? All the decent places are taken by now and you know that rents anywhere else are a lot higher than what you’ll pay here.”

      “After all, this building is subsidized housing for hospital employees,” Mark reminded her. “And since you are one, you deserve to be here. Much more than Dr. Swoon across the hall,” he added with a disdainful sniff. “That rich yango could live anywhere else. Why doesn’t he?”

      “He—he’s not rich” Gillian automatically defended Devlin, without knowing why. “He’s a resident doctor in orthopedics, still in training, and they get paid, but not all that much. Plus, he has loans to pay off from med school”

      “My heart bleeds for him!” Mark exclaimed, giving his long blond hair a melodramatic toss. “After he finishes his residency, it will probably take one entire ski season, fixing bones broken on the slopes, for him to pay off his loans. Then he can start accumulating the typical yango props. The glam car, the ritzy golf club memberships, the palatial house. And let’s not forget—”

      “I want to forget everything about him, Mark,” Gillian cut in. “Past, present and future.”

      Mark sighed. “That won’t be easy with him right next door Uh-oh, Carmen, watch out. Ashley is almost under your feet.”

      “Hi, Ashley! Did you come to see Aunt Carmen?” Carmen scooped up Ashley, who’d arrived in the kitchen and was circling her ankles. “What was Devlin Brennan’s reaction when he saw the baby?” she asked, turning curious dark eyes toward Gillian.

      “He wondered why every mother seems to name her daughter Ashley these days,” Gillian said flatly.

      “Not even a flicker of some kind of primal recognition?” asked Mark, his lips tightening in disapproval. “Honestly! The man has all the sensitivity of a Neanderthal.”

      “I forget—is a Neanderthal more or less sensitive than a yango, Mark?” Gillian teased in a blatant attempt to change the subject.

      “This is no laughing matter, Gillian,” Mark scolded.

      “Then let’s find a matter to laugh about.”

      “In Dr. Brennan’s defense, he would have to be psychic to guess that Ashley is his daughter,” said Carmen, sticking to the subject anyway. “After all, Gillian never even told him she was pregnant. Nobody would know who Ashley’s father is, not even us, if she hadn’t let us in on the deep dark secret.”

      Gillian sighed. “I wish I’d never mentioned his name to anyone,” she muttered.

      “You couldn’t keep it to yourself, Gilly,” Carmen said kindly. “And you did the right thing. As soon as you found out about the baby, you engineered that marriage of convenience to Mark.”

      Mark blew Gillian a kiss, and the mood in the room lightened considerably. “Anything to help my favorite foster sister.”

      “She’s your favorite foster sister?” Carmen feigned indignation. “What about me?”

      “Did I say she was my only favorite?” teased Mark. “You’re both my favorites. Along with Debra and Stacey and Suzy and—”

      “Okay, okay, we get it,” Carmen interrupted good-naturedly. “You have lots of favorite foster sisters.”

      “I only hope I don’t have to marry them all.” Mark stroked his dimpled chin, looking pensive. “Even when it’s on paper only, a marriage is kind of hard to explain to my friends back in L.A.”

      “I can imagine,” Carmen said, with feeling. “Even a cover marriage makes me want to run away screaming.”

      “Gillian and I had a very amiable cover marriage and an equally friendly divorce,” said Mark. “But, oh, the teasing I’ve had to take about it! You simply can’t imagine!”

      “Well, it’s all over now, and I’m sure you won’t have to endure any other cover marriages, Mark,” Gillian soothed. “At our ripe old age of twenty-six, I’m surely the only one stupid enough to—”

      “You weren’t stupid, you were in love,” Carmen cut in. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Gillian.”

      “Don’t make excuses for me.” Gillian crossed the room to flop down on the sofa beside Mark, her favorite foster brother who had done her the incredible favor of marrying her in name only to give her child a legitimate birth. As one who’d been born out of wedlock, Gillian had determined years ago that she would never let a child of hers bear that stigma. Mark had understood completely. His mother hadn’t been married to his father, either.

      “Well, stupid or in love or whatever, Devlin Brennan was definitely a willing participant, Gillian.” Carmen’s dark eyes flashed and she nuzzled the top of Ashley’s silky head. “And it’s not fair that you’re assuming total financial responsibility for the baby. At the very least, that...that yango should be handing over a check every month to you for—”

      “No!” Gillian exclaimed so forcefully that Mark jumped. “I don’t want any charity from him. I’ve had enough of being a charity case, thank you very much. I have no intention of letting my daughter become one.”

      “It wouldn’t be charity, but I know where you’re coming from.” Mark reached over to pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Gilly. It’s going to be okay.”

      How? Gillian wanted to cry. How could it possibly be okay if she had to contend with seeing Devlin Brennan every day, if she had to watch the parade of women through his apartment and his life? She stared fixedly at the olive green carpet until the weave seemed to blur and dance in front of her eyes.

      The firmly suppressed memories escaped from the prison in her mind where she’d kept them locked away for the past twenty months. For a few moments she was swept back to the time she’d shared with Dev. Those three months had been the happiest, most exciting, thrilling, romantic time of her life.

      But there had been a dark side that always shadowed that idyllic period. All during their too-good-to-be-true romance, she’d felt scared and insecure, not really believing that a man like Devlin Brennan could want a woman like her. Could want her! She’d always known their relationship was temporary, had been braced for the inevitable end. Something too good to be true generally turns out to be exactly that, and of course, her erstwhile romance with Dev had come to an abrupt end.

      That she’d ended it herself was merely a technicality. She had read the warning signs and acted first, that’s all. She was well aware that wanting something or someone you can’t have was not only a waste of time and emotion, it was self-destructive.

      She and Carmen and Mark and a few others among their many foster sisters and brothers had managed to develop a finely honed sense of their own self-preservation, but she’d seen far too many others who hadn’t. When you didn’t anticipate rejection, it arrived as a devastating surprise, breaking your heart and your spirit. Though rejection remained painful when expected, at least the hideous element of surprise was eliminated. Knowing what was coming gave you a chance to take some control, to avoid the passive victim role. To Gillian, that meant a lot. It meant everything.

      So she’d broken up with Dev before he could break up with her, and she hadn’t looked back. Not until now.

      Now unleashed and unbidden, a hundred images tumbled through her mind, all images of Devlin Brennan. Dr. Swoon, Mark called him. Cool, good-looking Dev was definitely a man to swoon over. He had thick, dark brown hair and deep blue eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. Gillian pictured him smiling, frowning, looking thoughtful. Looking amorous. His face was more than merely handsome, his slightly irregular nose and full generous mouth made it interesting, as well.

      She remembered the sound of his laugh, the way he closed his eyes when he was about to kiss her. How he looked when he stepped out of the shower, water sluicing over his hard, muscular body. At thirty-one, he still had the wiry athletic build of the track star and swimmer


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