Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad. Lynne Marshall

Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad - Lynne Marshall


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into his personal life. She pretended to be completely focused on the paperwork.

      Though he did seem easy and open about still being a bachelor. She wondered if it had to do with being stuck in this small town taking care of his father while his brother lived the good life traveling and keeping two homes.

      For the next several minutes, Julie filled in all the blanks about her personal information, but sneaked surreptitious glances at Trevor as she did. His mahogany-colored hair was still thick and wavy, covering the tips of his ears. After all this time, she remembered how she’d run her fingers through it the one night they’d been together, probably because she’d dreamed about touching that hair all that summer long. His square jaw was set while he typed away at his keyboard. He knit his brows and seemed very concerned about whatever it was he entered about poor Mr. Waverly’s condition.

      Once, he glanced up at the exact moment Julie did and their eyes met then skipped away from each other quicker than water on a hot griddle. Even so, the visual contact slid through her center, further jangling her nerves.

      The man deserved to know.

      But she needed the job. No way would she tell him! Not now anyway. Oh, man, why had she even considered coming home?

      Round and round her thoughts chased each other. She was at the end of her rope and James needed … well, a father.

      With her mouth dry and her hands clammier than ever, she finished her employment paperwork and handed the packet to Trevor. His lips torqued in a rigid manner as he took them, as if they were something sacred, then he used the intercom and asked Rita to process everything before she left for the day.

      “Want to start tomorrow?” he asked, without looking at one iota of Julie’s personal information, while handing everything over to Rita—who must have been standing right outside in order to get there so fast.

      “The sooner the better,” Julie said, relieved she’d have a new job before her final paycheck from her prior job was due.

      He smiled tensely, and once Rita had left with the paperwork, Trevor shot Julie an anxious glance. Was he changing his mind? He followed Rita to the door, closing it behind her, further raising Julie’s curiosity. What did he have up his sleeve?

      “Listen,” he said, stretching his lower lip and biting on it, as if the words were stuck just behind his teeth. Instead of walking back around his desk, he sat next to her. She’d been right about his wearing boots—black gator belly-patterned boots, to be exact. She stared at them rather than look at Trevor. “I’d like to ask you to forgive me.”

      What? She was unable to hide her reaction; her chin pulled in, brows shot up and she was quite sure her eyes bugged out—at least that was how it felt. She had a dreaded hunch about what he referred to, and for the record he did look contrite, yet she still couldn’t quite make her brain believe it. “Seriously?” Did she say that out loud?

      He made the wise decision of not attempting to touch her or even get too close. Though he leaned in and sincerity flowed from his gaze. “Completely. I messed up that night. There was nothing honorable about what I did. I took advantage of—”

      “Wait a second, I may have been tipsy—well, we both were—but I still knew what I was doing. I had a choice in the matter. Made a bad one, but nevertheless.”

      Now he was the one studying his boots. “That’s not the way it should be, the first time, you know?” He looked back up and nailed her. “A lady deserves some romance and wooing that first time. And I never even had the decency to apologize.”

      Oh, my gosh, he was going all chivalrous on her. Too late, buddy. She’d waited and waited for his call, which had never come. He’d had his chance to be honorable, but had never bothered. Even so, she decided to take the practical route.

      “Now that I’m thirty-one, I can say with certainty that life isn’t always the way it should be. That’s just how it is sometimes.” Without thinking, she reached for his forearm and squeezed. “We were both slightly inebriated, as I recall, and I’ll let you in on a little secret—I went to that party hoping to see you. I couldn’t believe it when you were interested in me, too. So—”

      How naive could she have been? Any male would be interested in a willing woman at that age. Yeah, she’d learned that lesson the hard way.

      “That still doesn’t make it right,” he said. “It’s not like losing your virginity can happen more than once.”

      True, but how often did a girl get bells and whistles and romance with her first time? At least that had seemed to be the consensus among her friends back then, and, crazy as it sounded, it had helped ease her broken heart.

      “It’s weighed on my mind and I just wanted to set things straight since you’re going to be working for me.” He glanced down at her hand, still grasping his forearm, and her ringless finger. “I messed up that night, didn’t have a clue you weren’t like the girls at college. I took advantage of you, plain and simple. Please forgive me.”

      The remorseful expression, coupled with those dark, pleading eyes, painted a gentlemanly and heartfelt apology. It warmed Julie’s cynical heart by a few degrees, and brought out the forgiver in her. She let up on the tight clutch on his arm.

      Truth was she’d packed away that chapter of her life years ago. What were the odds of getting knocked up your first time? Lucky her, right? Once the thrill of being with the guy of her dreams had worn off, he’d never called again, and the couple of missed periods had finally clicked in—better late than never, right? Julie had forgotten about that party and Trevor, who had already been long gone—she didn’t forget about him that quickly—and she’d faced the tough reality that she’d soon be a single mother at the ripe old age of eighteen.

      But today was about a job, not about losing her virginity and getting pregnant. “Apology accepted.”

      To be honest, many things weighed on her mind, too, about that night and the aftermath.

      She’d already been enrolled at the University of Denver, and had settled into her dorm, gone through orientation, started her classes. After a couple of months and her normally irregular periods had just upped and quit, she hadn’t been able to deny her suspicions any longer and had taken a home test. Even though they’d used a condom, she’d gotten pregnant.

      Julie had called her mother. The woman who’d had big plans for her education. Julie had been the model student her entire life—actually had had no choice, with her mother being a grade-school teacher and her father the principal of Cattleman Bluff High School.

      Her mother’s voice had dropped at the truth. She’d flipped out, told Julie to have an abortion, so focused on her future, forgetting about Julie’s feelings and thoughts on the matter. “Your life will be over because of that baby.” She’d spit out the word baby, making Julie wonder if she’d ruined her own mother’s life.

      “They’ll think you’re only after their money, those Montgomerys,” her father had said spitefully when he’d gotten on the phone. “They’ll publically humiliate you, and us.”

      She’d shamed her parents and that had seemed to be all that mattered. Amazingly, with them, she and her baby had been left out of the mix.

      Logically, because she’d been trained to think that way, Julie had transferred those implanted thoughts and doubts onto Trevor, the guy just beginning med school. With every ounce of guilt she’d felt heaped on her by her parents—as Julie’s mother had gotten her father involved in the call, with both pressuring her into ending the pregnancy—Julie had bundled up her feelings and kept her mouth shut.

      Trevor hadn’t ever called her again. He hadn’t given a damn about her. It had hurt like hell and she’d been alone in a new city, with no friends and parents telling her to get rid of it. As if a baby could be called an “it”.

      Hurt, anger and a large dose of immaturity had rounded out her decision. The good part was, against her parents’ advice, she’d kept


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