To Have the Doctor's Baby. Teresa Southwick
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desired objective.”
“If you’d like, I can talk to Rebecca Hamilton.”
Aside from the fact that their agreement wasn’t for public consumption, she didn’t really want him talking to another woman about her and the baby. “Is that your girlfriend?”
“She’s a girl. And she’s a friend who’s married. Also a doctor. Ob-gyn. Any information you need, I’m sure she’ll have.”
“Oh.” Ryleigh refused to believe the ugly feeling churning through her had anything to do with jealousy. “Maybe. But are you prepared to answer her questions about why you’re asking?”
“Not really.”
Was his voice just a tiny bit hoarse? His eyes narrowed and more intense than moments ago? The expression reminded her of how he looked when he wanted her. A woman who’d craved even the barest amount of attention from the man she was completely in love with wasn’t likely to forget the look on his face when he wanted her.
Ryleigh cleared her throat. “Okay, so how about this. I’ll do my research and we’ll regroup.”
“Just let me know when and where,” he said.
“Give me a couple days. My place next time. It’s near the hospital so that will be convenient for us both.”
“I’ll be there.”
There might have been eagerness in his tone or it could just be wishful thinking on her part. It had happened before. Once upon a time she’d mistaken his wanting her as a sign that he reciprocated her feelings because she’d so desperately hoped he would. Now she knew better, but knowing better didn’t stop the hitch in her breathing, the pumped-up pulse. If just thinking about sex made her feel like this, what would actual sex do?
Make a baby, she hoped.
And that would be the end of it. No strings attached. Love had made everything difficult, but she’d learned her lesson and wasn’t going there again. That ship had sailed. But attraction was a different story. She was still attracted to Nick and that was a good thing.
It would help when the time came to get her pregnant.
Several days later, at the appointed time, Nick knocked on Ryleigh’s door. Her place was on the second floor located in an apartment complex behind Mercy Medical Center. He’d just finished up evening rounds and his two patients were doing well. Barring complications, he expected to discharge them the next morning.
The anticipation of seeing his ex-wife tonight had hummed through him all day. He hadn’t missed her these last two years, not exactly. Every time the idea of it crept in, he shut the feeling down. But now that she was back, well it was safe to say he was in a pretty good mood. More than one person had commented on that today and it was probably not a coincidence that all of them were women.
The door opened, and there was the one woman who’d occupied more of his thoughts than he was comfortable with. “Ryleigh.”
“Hi, Nick. Come in.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. After he walked in, she shut it behind him. “This place is still a mess. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Not on my account.”
There were moving boxes stacked around the perimeter of the room and several on the dinette just off the kitchen. He stood in the living room with its charmless beige couch and matching chair. There was a faux-wood coffee table and matching end tables with ugly orange ceramic lamp, times two. “Don’t tell me. The place came furnished.”
“Pretty hideous, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words.”
But looking at Ryleigh cancelled out the unattractive stuff. In worn jeans that hugged her curves and a pale yellow sweater she was like a slice of sunshine. Her shiny hair was pulled back in a ponytail and gold hoops dangled from her ears. As good as his mood had been, it got better still, just staring at her.
She sighed. “I had delusions of actually cooking, but work and research got in the way. How do you feel about Chinese takeout?”
“I’m easy.”
“Good. The food cartons, plates and eating utensils are in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll get drinks. We’ll eat in here.”
He walked in the kitchen and saw all his favorite Chinese food on display. Spring rolls. Sweet and sour chicken. Chow mein. A fork and one set of chopsticks. He’d tried to teach her how to use them and smiled at the memory of flying food and her swearing. But that was then and this was now. Ryleigh and Nick, Part Two. Simple, uncomplicated sex. Guys would kill to be in his shoes.
He set his plate down on one of the paper towels on the coffee table. Place mats. How very Ryleigh of her. She brought him a club soda with lime.
“I figured you were on call.”
“Yeah.” He always was and it left no time for them when they were married.
“I’m not.”
She set a glass of white wine beside his drink and settled next to him on the couch. They ate in silence and it wasn’t awkward. It was nice. Felt like old times.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“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