Expecting The Doctor's Baby. Teresa Southwick
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Some part of her brain registered the familiar, deep voice, but a larger part was still focused on her hostility. “How is this my fault? What is this? The Middle Ages—”
“Hey, Sunshine. Who rained on your parade?”
She stopped and turned. Mitch Tenney stood just behind her in the hall, leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms folded over an impressively broad chest. Stubble darkened his jaw in the sexiest possible way and the spark of humor in his eyes enhanced the effect. Not to mention that he certainly knew how to fill out a pair of blue scrubs. How could that be? They were shapeless cotton with a drawstring in the pants—glorified pajamas—but he made them look good. The sight of Mercy Medical’s resident troublemaker sent a jolt through her like she’d never felt from Jax the jerk.
“Mitch. What are you doing here?”
“I work here.”
She smacked her forehead. “Right. The pajamas were a clue.”
“Pajamas?” One corner of his mouth curved up.
“I meant scrubs.” If only the earth would open and swallow her whole.
“What’s your excuse?” he asked. “For being here, I mean.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Okay. But a word to the wise. If you’re not careful, trash-talking in the hall will get you sent to the principal’s office for detention.”
If he was one of the bad boys she’d get to hang out with it would be worth the risk. As opposed to the unacceptable risk of counseling him. Her reaction just now was proof that her female instincts were firing on all cylinders. She was far too attracted, which cancelled out her objectivity, making it impossible for her to work with him.
“Thanks for the advice. See you around.” She started to walk away.
“Wait.”
She sighed and turned back. “What?”
“Have lunch with me.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m on my way to the doctors’ dining room.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Have you already eaten?”
She’d eaten crow in her father’s office, but that’s not what he meant. “I’ll grab a bite on the way back to the office.”
“I’m buying,” he offered.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doctors don’t pay. Hence the name, doctors’ dining room. Free food is a perk. I don’t belong.”
She settled the strap of her purse more securely on her shoulder, wincing at how pathetic that sounded. But he knew nothing about her and had no reason to paint her words with the pity brush.
“I can get you in. If you’re with me no one will question you.” He angled his head in that direction. “The food is pretty good.”
“It doesn’t feel right—” For so many reasons, not the least of which was professional.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to throw caution to the wind and break the rules?”
Not until now, she thought. “It never works for a girl like me. We always get caught.”
“Live dangerously.”
Just standing here this close to him felt dangerous. Sam didn’t want to think about the fallout of sharing a meal with him. “Mitch, I really don’t think I should—”
He held up his hand. “Before you finish that statement, you should know that I don’t take no for an answer.”
Was he talking about lunch? Or her refusal to be his counselor? Because if that was what he meant, he was doomed to disappointment.
“Sometimes we don’t have a choice,” she said.
“Maybe. But now isn’t one of those times. Have lunch with me, Sam.” He grinned, then took her arm and guided her down the hall. “Another happy by-product of being with me is that no one can accuse you of talking to yourself.”
He really didn’t take no for an answer, she thought, letting him lead her into the dining room. The smell of food assaulted her and made her stomach growl. She’d entered the inner sanctum.
“So this is where they feed the medical gods,” she said.
“Pretty impressive, huh?”
She looked around at groupings of tables covered with white cloths, matching napkins and tweed chairs scattered throughout the room. There was a steam table for hot food and a cold one filled with greens, fruits and creamy-based salads. Waiters in white jackets delivered drinks to several people, then cleared used plates.
Sam glanced up at him. “I’ve been to the cafeteria and we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.”
“Stick with me, Sunshine. I’ll take you to all the good places.”
Following Mitch’s example she picked up a tray, plate and utensils then chose small portions of seafood, salad, fruit and a sugar cookie for dessert. On second thought, she picked up another one because she needed the comfort food after seeing her father. The room was still nearly empty but Mitch headed for a quiet spot in the far corner and she followed him.
After settling, the waiter walked over and took their drink orders—coffee for him, iced tea for her. When the liquids were delivered, they ate in silence for a few moments. Because of a deeply ingrained personal aversion to long silences, Sam felt the need to fill this one.
“So you’re working today?” she asked.
“What was your first clue?”
“The fact that you’re here, for one. And dressed in scrubs. That’s two clues. Have you been busy?”
“You mean have I offended anyone today?” he asked.
“I actually didn’t mean that, but…Have you?”
He shook his head. “It’s clear, however, that someone offended you.”
“What was your first clue?” She put down her fork and picked up a cookie.
“Besides looking like you wanted to rip someone’s head off?” He sipped his coffee. Black. “So, who’s the jerk?”
“I have to pick one?” she asked.
His eyebrows rose as he set his cup back on the saucer. “A plethora of jerks? You are having a bad day. Tell me about it.”
There was no reason not to and it would fill that pesky silence. “For starters there’s my fiancé—ex-fiancé,” she amended.
“What did he do to become an ex?”
“I found him in bed with someone he wasn’t engaged to.” She chewed thoughtfully. “Although they were engaged in—Never mind.”
“That definitely qualifies him for jerk status.”
“Not according to my father. Stepfather, actually,” she clarified.
“Did you tell him the jerk cheated on you?”
She picked up cookie number two. “Not exactly.”
“What exactly did you tell him?”
“That we had a mutual parting of the ways.” She saw his skeptical expression and hurriedly added, “It was just easier than the truth. I didn’t want to make Dad feel bad. He introduced us and thought we’d be the perfect couple.”
“And what did Arnie say?” he asked, the sarcastic tone hinting at his less than positive opinion of her father.
“He said that I should try to patch things