Pregnant Nurse, New-Found Family. Lynne Marshall
divorce Maureen had still wanted to stay at home…on Gavin’s child support and alimony. He’d been accused of being a workaholic by more than a few people in his life, but he’d always felt it had been for a good cause.
For Patrick’s sake, Gavin had promised to do everything in his power to make things right this time around, which meant thinking of his son first and, as tempting as she was, putting Bethany Caldwell completely out of his mind. Like that was going to happen.
Once things had settled down in the ER, and Beth had been officially discharged, she retreated from the pandemonium into the quiet hallway. She was tired. And hungry.
She went back to the allergy department to gather her belongings and head out to her car.
Dr Mehta would have to order a special RAST—radioallergosorbent—blood test for Gavin as she hadn’t been able to finish reading the skin tests. And with his extreme reaction, it was important for him to know exactly what he was allergic to and what to avoid.
At least she now knew her mystery man’s name and where he worked. Gavin had stirred feelings she’d never felt before, and if she was honest, she wanted to find out what else might happen with a man like him. Was that playing with fire? Yes. Was it dangerous? For her, yes. Would she actually allow herself to find out? Absolutely not. Until she knew the results of the pregnancy test, she’d do everything in her power to avoid him.
Beth started her car. The men in her life, starting with her dad and ending with her ex-husband, had track records for being unreliable and undependable.
According to her best friend Jillian, who worked in the urgent care department, Gavin had more women throwing themselves at him than he could handle.
Of all the people to have had secret sex with.
Beth adjusted the rear-view mirror and shifted into reverse. Jillian always shared the scuttlebutt from ER and Dr Gavin Riordan could have any woman he wanted. So why would he be satisfied with just one? And in the world according to Beth, from now on she would settle for nothing less than being the only one.
She pulled the car out into the traffic and started her drive home, thinking about her failed marriage. Again. She’d always dreamed of having a big family. Her ex had never wanted kids, but hadn’t mentioned it until after they’d had to get married. While her heart had broken more with each miscarriage, he’d seemed relieved. And she’d foolishly assumed her ex would be faithful. Wrong! She hadn’t been able to trust him.
The fact that he’d been unable to satisfy her in bed over their two-year marriage might have had something to do with it. But Beth had never been good at faking anything, and she hadn’t hidden that one important fact from him. Evidently his ego had only waited so long before he’d gone searching for a more responsive partner.
So long and good riddance.
If she was frigid, what could she call what had happened with Gavin that night? He’d taken her on a rocket trip to bliss in record time.
And now her period was late.
Was that her reward for finally cutting loose?
Damn.
If she did wind up being pregnant and she didn’t miscarry, she’d keep the baby and figure out what to do about Gavin later.
The moment Beth opened the doors to the allergy department on Wednesday morning the phone rang. She swooped up the receiver, assuming it was the supervisor from the ER to tell her her fate.
“Allergy, this is Beth.”
“You owe me dinner.”
She heard Gavin’s deep voice, loud and clear. Her heart rushed a beat or two.
“Are you there?” he asked when she paused.
“May I ask who’s calling?” Lame!
After a brief hesitation he said, “It’s Stud Muffin.”
Her cheeks flamed faster than a brush fire. Obviously his son being present had kept him from saying what had been on his mind yesterday.
She stifled a giggle.
“I’ll pick you up in front of the hospital on Friday night at seven…Sweet Cakes,” he said.
How could she not smile? The guy was being silly and going overboard, trying to get her to laugh.
She played with a pen she’d picked up from the counter. Two could play this game. “I’m afraid ‘Sweet Cakes’ isn’t available on Friday night. She works at the teen clinic in Venice.” The pen shook in her hand.
“How late?”
She clicked the pen several times and heard an impatient sigh on the other end. She’d taken it too far. It also occurred to her that the poor man might have been up all night working—if the overflowing ER when she’d left last night had been any indication. Did he deserve her giving him a hard time? “I work until ten. You might be awfully hungry by then. I suggest we take a rain-check.”
“Then let’s have a drink and get to know each other. You can buy me dinner another night. I know where that clinic is—I’ll pick you up from there on Friday.”
She faltered. Had he just finagled two dates out of her? What about her plan to avoid him?
He sighed again. “Just say yes, Bethany. I need to get some sleep.”
“Yes, Bethany, I need to get some sleep,” she parroted softly, her mind swirling with what-ifs.
“Have a good day…Sweet Cakes.” She heard a smile in his voice.
Would it be a good day after the lab called?
“Wait!” she said.
“Yes?”
“How’s that boy, Andrew?”
Gavin cleared his throat. “The surgery went well. We’ll have to wait and see if the hand will be functional. By the way, what you did with his sister was commendable. And my son. Thanks for that. I’ll see you Friday.”
She’d agreed to get-to-know-each-other drinks with a man she’d already had sex with. Well, what would “Stud Muffin” think about her predicament? He might change his dating tune if a certain lab test came back you-know-what. And more importantly, if she was pregnant, would she have the guts to tell him?
No sooner had she hung up than the phone rang again. On automatic reflex she gave the department name, followed by her own.
“This is Rick from the ER. I’m not sure if this is good news or not…but it’s definitely news.”
For the second time in two days Beth felt faint. “I’m pregnant?”
“Most definitely.”
She couldn’t remember afterwards if she’d said thank you and goodbye or had just hung up, but suddenly she was standing in the allergy clinic with her arms tightly folded across her stomach to keep from falling apart. Her eyes stung. Nervous tingles made her skin prickle. Tears brimmed. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Maybe this third time the pregnancy would stick. Could she afford to be hopeful, again? Or should she be horrified? I’m not married and I got knocked up on a one-night stand with a stranger.
She’d always wanted children, but only under the right circumstances, in a loving relationship and preferably married. Talk about bad timing. Hell, she’d worked at the teen clinic long enough to know life threw everyone curve balls, but in this case she’d been the accomplice who’d helped the pitcher wind up and let fly.
And now, oh, God, she was pregnant.
On Thursday afternoon Gavin pushed through the swing doors into the allergy waiting room. At the nursing podium, Beth was in the middle of giving shots to one of her regular weekly patients. She’d just finished drawing up antigen from a vial when she spotted him.
Thanks