His Pregnant Sleeping Beauty. Lynne Marshall
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He never would have pegged her as a horror fan. “It’s my favorite, too, but I didn’t think it would be good for your bambino.”
“Ha,” she said, picking up the dishes from the bench table on the outdoor deck. “After what this little one has been through already, a pretend TV show should be a walk in the park.” She glanced down at her stomach while heading inside and toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that right, sweetie pie.”
There he went grinding his molars again. He followed her in and watched her put the dishes on the counter and unconsciously pat her abdomen then smile. That simple act sent a flurry of quick memories about Angela and how excited they’d once been when she’d first found out she’d gotten pregnant. They’d been about to give up trying since it had been over a year, had even had fertility tests done. They’d rationalized that because they were both paramedics and under a lot of stress, and he worked extended hours trying to make a good impression with Dr. Rothsberg, that was the reason she’d been unable to get pregnant.
So they’d taken a quickie vacation. Then one day, wham, she magically announced she was expecting. Joe had practically jumped over the moon that night, he’d been so happy. They’d finally start their own version of a big happy family. Since Angela’s body had gotten the hang of getting pregnant, he’d planned to talk her into having a few more kids after this one. He’d walked on air for a couple of months...until his fertility report had dropped into the mailbox. Late. Very, very late.
What a fool he’d been.
Trying to give his overworked jaw a break, Joe went to town scrubbing the grill from the barbecue as if it was a matter of life and death. By the time they’d finished with the cleanup, he didn’t know about Carey any more, but he definitely needed the distraction of some mindless TV viewing.
She sat on the small couch, passing him along the way, and he caught the scent of her shampoo again. It was a fresh, fruity summer kind of smell with a touch of coconut, which when he’d bought it for her had never planned for it to be a minor form of torture.
Mixed up about his feelings for the smart and easygoing nurse from Illinois, he intentionally sat on the chair opposite the couch, not ready to get too close to her again tonight. It brought up too many bad memories, and he so did not want to go there. There was only so much boxing a guy could do in a day. Torture sounded better than reliving his failed marriage. He clicked on the TV right on time for the show they both liked to escape to. If zombies couldn’t make him forget how attracted he was to the lovely stranger living in his house, nothing could.
* * *
Carey put her head on the pillow of the surprisingly comfortable guest bed, thinking it was the first time she could remember feeling safe in ages. Things had gotten super-tense living with Ross those last few weeks, and, talk about the worst timing in the world, she’d gotten pregnant right around the time she’d known she had to leave him.
She didn’t want to think about that now, because it would keep her awake, and she was really tired. It’d felt so normal and relaxing to sit and watch TV with Joe. He’d made the best barbecue chicken she’d ever eaten and she’d made a pig out of herself over the baked potato with all the toppings, but she chalked it up to his making her feel so welcome. The only problem was she couldn’t get the vision of him in his boxing shorts, working out with the punchbag, out of her mind. Wow, his lean body had showcased every muscle in his arms and across his back as he’d punched. His movements had been fluid and nothing short of perfection. Not to mention his washboard stomach and powerful legs. The guy didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
What on earth was she thinking? Her life was in a shambles. She had an unborn baby to take care of. The last thing she should be thinking about was a man.
A naturally sexy man with kind brown eyes and a voice soothing enough to give her chills. She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head on the pillow.
When she finally settled down and began to drift off to sleep she realized this was the first day she’d ever felt positive about her and the baby’s future in three months. Things would work out for her, she just knew it. Because she, with the help of Joe, would make sure they did.
A slight smile crossed her lips as a curtain of sleep inched its way down until all was dark and she peacefully crossed into sweet dreams. Thanks to Joe.
ON MONDAY, AFTER working all day, Joe insisted Carey come out with him for dinner, which was fine with her because she’d felt kind of cooped up. They ate at a little diner, then he showed her around Santa Monica, like the perfect host. She got the distinct impression it was to get them, and keep them, out of the house, because sometimes things felt too close there.
At least, that’s how it felt for her, and sometimes she sensed it was the same for him. The guy seemed to bite down on his jaw a lot! But she soon ignored her worries about him not wanting her around and went straight to loving seeing the beach and the Pacific Ocean, and especially the Santa Monica pier.
On Tuesday Joe had the day off, and he dutifully took her shopping for more clothes at a place called the Beverly Center. They checked the directory and he guided her to the few stores she’d shown interest in, then he stood outside in the mall area, giving her space to shop. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with helping her choose clothes, rather he just did what he thought he should do out of courtesy to her situation. She protested all the way when he insisted on paying for everything. She sensed his generosity was based on some sense of charitable obligation, and she only accepted his offer when he’d agreed to let her repay him once she was back on her feet. She’d be sure to keep a tally because things were quickly adding up!
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