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He knew his parents would like her because he did. He wasn’t so sure what Avery would think about his family. It was hard to get a handle on what she was thinking or feeling. He thought he was starting to know her pretty well, but there were still parts of herself that she kept closed off, not just from him but from everybody.

He heard the door unlatch and opened his mouth to speak, then she stepped into view and his brain shut down.

He was accustomed to seeing her at the hospital, with a long white coat covering up whatever else she was wearing. Tonight she didn’t look like a doctor but a woman.

The dress she was wearing gently hugged her tantalizing curves, the knee-length skirt showcasing shapely legs that were further enhanced by the slim heels. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders and her lips shone with a hint of gloss. He’d always thought she was beautiful, but now she was absolutely breathtaking.

He managed to roll his tongue back into his mouth to speak. “I want to say something charming and clever about how great you look, but all I can think is ‘wow.’”

“‘Wow’ works,” she said, offering a shy smile. “So long as it’s a ‘wow, she looks perfect to take home to meet my parents’ rather than ‘wow, I’m making a huge mistake here.’”

“It’s definitely a ‘wow, you look perfect.’”

“I borrowed the dress from Amy,” she admitted. “I didn’t have anything in my closet that seemed appropriate. To meet your parents, I mean. I have clothes, of course, but it’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone’s parents and I didn’t know what to wear. And now I’m babbling like an idiot.”

He smiled at that. “You seem a little bit nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous.”

“I didn’t think anything ever fazed you,” he admitted.

“I wouldn’t be a very good doctor if I fell apart at the sight of blood,” she pointed out. “But those two lines on the pregnancy test fazed me. Big-time.”

“Well, you don’t need to be nervous about meeting my parents,” he promised her.

“What time are we supposed to be there?”

He glanced at his watch. “In about fifteen minutes.”

“Do they live very far from here?”

“About a ten-minute drive,” he told her.

“Then I guess we’d better get going.” She opened the closet to get her coat. He was sorry that she was covering up the dress, but it was still February and although it had been a sunny day, the temperature tended to drop significantly after the sun went down.

“Ready?” he asked, when she picked up her purse.

“I think so.” She took her keys out of her pocket. “Oh, wait—I almost forgot the pie.”

“Why do you have pie?”

“Because when you’re invited to someone’s house, you don’t show up empty-handed.” She detoured into the kitchen to pick up the dessert.

“I do. At least once a month when I go over to beg a meal.”

“That’s different—they’re your parents.”

He looked at the covered glass dish in her hand. “You actually
made
a pie?”

“I told you that I took cooking classes,” she reminded him.

“But you didn’t tell me that you could make pie,” he said, undeniably impressed. “So...” He put his hand on her back as they made their way to the elevator. “What kind of pie?”

* * *

When they arrived at his parents’ house—a sprawling bungalow of stone and brick—Justin gave a perfunctory knock on the front door before he walked in.

“They’re here,” Avery heard a female voice call out. “Come on, John.”

“I’m coming,” a male voice, sounding eerily similar to Justin’s, replied.

“They don’t get much company,” Justin said, his dry tone making her smile.

Then his parents were there and he made the introductions.

John Garrett shook her hand warmly; his wife, Ellen, pulled her into her arms for a quick hug.

“Avery brought pie,” Justin said, holding out the plate he’d carried from the car.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Ellen said.

“That’s what I told her,” Justin pointed out.

“But it’s very much appreciated,” his mother said.

Her husband peered over her shoulder. “What kind of pie?”

The echo of his son’s question made Avery smile. “Pecan.”

John winked at her. “My favorite.”

“What’s for dinner?” Justin asked.

“Beef Wellington.” Ellen looked apologetically at Avery. “I’m sorry—I didn’t even think to ask Justin if you were a vegetarian or had any food allergies.”

“I definitely eat meat and I don’t have any allergies,” she assured the other woman.

“I never worry about what I’m feeding Justin,” his mother explained. “He’ll eat almost anything that’s put in front of him.”

“Any food I don’t have to cook is a favorite,” he acknowledged.

“Except broccoli,” Avery noted.

Ellen chuckled. “You know about that, do you?”

She realized that she’d inadvertently given the impression that she and Justin were closer than they really were. Aside from his abhorrence of broccoli and his affection for pasta, she really didn’t know much about his likes and dislikes.

“Did you know that he can cook, too?” Ellen asked her. “I made sure that each of my boys knew enough of the basics to put a meal on the table, but he’ll pretend that he can’t if it means someone else will cook for him, so don’t you let him fool you.”

“No one fools Avery,” Justin said.

“But I’ve cooked for you and not had my efforts reciprocated.”

“It sounds like you owe Avery a home-cooked meal,” his mother said.

“I brought her here tonight,” he pointed out.

“That doesn’t count.”

“It should count for something,” he insisted.

Ellen shook her head. “John, take your son into the den and turn on the television to see what’s happening in Daytona—I want to know how Daniel’s driver is doing.”

“You want us to leave you alone with Avery so you can interrogate her?” Justin guessed.

“Of course,” his mother agreed easily. “But don’t worry—I’ll save the waterboarding for after dinner.”

“After dessert,” he suggested. “I want to make sure I get a piece of that pecan pie.”

* * *

Avery didn’t panic when Justin left the room. To her surprise—and profound relief—her earlier nervousness had dissipated almost immediately upon entering John and Ellen’s home. Justin’s parents were simply the kind of people who knew how to make a guest feel comfortable and welcome, and even Ellen’s teasing promise of an interrogation didn’t worry her.

At least, not too much.

Ellen started mashing the potatoes. “Can you get the milk out of the fridge, please?”

As Avery did so, her attention was snagged by the numerous photographs on the refrigerator door, affixed by magnets advertising everything from pizza delivery to Pier 39. But it was one picture in particular that caught her eye—a couple with four children, including two boys who couldn’t be anything but identical twins.

“My nephew’s family,” Ellen said, when she saw what Avery was looking at.

She swallowed, suddenly uneasy. “Do twins run in your family?”

The other woman shook her head, and Avery exhaled a quiet sigh of profound relief.

“Quinn and Shane are Georgia’s boys from her first marriage,” Ellen explained. “Pippa was born a few months after her husband died, then she married Matt and they added Aiden to the family.”

“They must be very busy.”

“I’m sure they are,” she acknowledged. “Unfortunately, I don’t get to see them nearly as often as I like because they live in upstate New York. Both of Matt’s brothers are there, too, along with their wives and families.”

“They’re all married?”

“All within twelve months of one another,” she admitted. “Justin’s cousin Nate almost didn’t go to Lukas’s wedding—he was afraid there was something in the water up there.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t think he did drink any water that weekend. Of course, Nate’s married now, too, and not too long after both of his brothers, so maybe he should have worried about the water here.”

Avery smiled. “I actually met Nate and Allison at the Storybook Ball.”

Ellen frowned. “John and I were there, too. I wonder why Justin didn’t introduce you to us that night.”

“I arrived late and he said you left early—something about a friend’s cousin’s boyfriend’s show at the art gallery?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Ellen remembered. She shook her head. “We never should have wasted our time. We’ve always believed in supporting the arts, and young artists in particular, but I’m not sure that what we saw that night would fit even the broadest definition of art. However, I heard the ball was a tremendous success.”

“It was,” Avery confirmed. “And the orthopedics department is going to get its EOS imaging machine.”

“That is wonderful news.” Ellen opened the oven to check on the beef Wellington. “But I’ve got myself sidetracked again—I wanted to know more about you.”

“Well, you know that I’m a doctor.”

“Harvard Medical School followed by a residency at Massachusetts General.”

“You’re on the hiring committee,” Avery suddenly recalled.

Justin’s mother nodded. “I remember when your résumé came in—no one could understand why you’d leave a major hospital in a big city to come to Charisma, and many didn’t believe, even if you did come, that you’d stay.”

“I had some doubts myself,” Avery confided. “Charisma is a different world from Boston, but Mercy is an excellent hospital, and within six months, I knew I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

“How quickly did Justin hit on you?” his mother asked.

She felt her cheeks flush. “The day of my interview.”

“And now, three-and-a-half years later, he finally got you to go out with him.”

“I know I’m not his usual type,” Avery began.

“I wouldn’t know his usual type,” Ellen admitted. “Justin doesn’t typically bring home any of the women he dates.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Not since college. So when Justin told me that he was bringing a guest to dinner—I didn’t know what to think. Now that I’ve met you...I’m so glad that you’re here—that he found you.”

The sincerity in the other woman’s voice made Avery uneasy. “I’m afraid you’re thinking this dinner means more than it does,” she told her.

Ellen smiled. “I think it means more than you’re willing to admit.”

“Mrs. Garrett—”

“Call me Ellen.”

“Ellen,” she said, trying again. “Justin and I are friends and coworkers, but our relationship really isn’t much more than that.”

“Not much more means that it is something more.”

Trapped by her own words, Avery reluctantly nodded. “I guess it does.”

“That’s good enough for now,” Ellen said, handing her the bowl of mashed potatoes to carry. “Now let’s get this food out before the men start banging their fists on the table.”

Chapter Eleven

J
ustin slid his arm across Avery’s shoulders as they made their way down the walk toward his car. He was disappointed but not really surprised when she immediately tensed in response to his touch. But she didn’t shrug it off, which he took as a sign of progress.

He opened the passenger door for her and offered a hand to help her into her seat.

“Thanks for doing the dinner thing with me,” he said, when he’d slid behind the wheel of the car.

“I enjoyed meeting your parents,” she told him. “But you could have warned me that it’s a big deal for you to take a woman home with you.”

“It’s not
that
big of a deal,” he hedged.

She slid a look in his direction. “That’s not what your mother said.”

“I’m sorry you were disappointed to discover that I don’t take a different woman home every week.”

“I wasn’t disappointed,” she denied.

“But you were surprised.”

She nodded.

“What else did my mother say to you?”

“Before or after she pulled out your baby pictures?”

He looked at her, horrified.

She laughed.

“I can’t imagine your mother would ever embarrass you in such a way—if your baby pictures are even embarrassing, which I’m sure they’re not.”

“I was a pretty cute kid,” he acknowledged.

“Whoever would have guessed?” she asked drily.

He grinned. “Are your parents the type to pull out baby pictures when I meet them?”

“I don’t know that you’ll have the opportunity to meet my parents. It’s even more unlikely that they have any baby pictures.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “I told you that my mother works at CDC and my father’s a cardiac surgeon at Emory. They married seven months before I was born and divorced seven years later.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as simple and straightforward as you make it sound.”

She shrugged, but Justin wasn’t fooled by the gesture. “There really wasn’t a lot of drama—they both had very busy lives, demanding careers. Truthfully, I’m not sure how they decided that they wanted to live separate and apart, because I don’t really remember them ever being in the same place together.” She shrugged. “For whatever reason, they decided to split and share custody of me and Ryder. We spent one week with Mom, the next with Dad, and alternated holidays. It was all very civil and reasonable.”

And confusing, he imagined, for a child who might never feel sure where she belonged—or if there was anywhere she did.

“Did both of them being doctors have anything to do with your decision to go into medicine?”

“My brother thinks so. He claims it was a last and desperate attempt to get them to notice me—to finally do something that was worthy of their attention.

“I’m ashamed to admit that it might have been true, at least in the beginning. But once I started med school, I knew I’d found what I was meant to do. And I didn’t need their approval so much as I needed to succeed for myself, because I couldn’t imagine any other career.”

“It shows,” he told her. “The way you are with your patients and coworkers—there’s no doubt medicine is your calling.”

She glanced away, as if uncertain how to respond, but finally murmured softly, “Thank you.”

“So why obstetrics?” he asked.

“I guess that was partly a way of proving that I was different from both of them. I might have followed generally in their footsteps, but it was a specialty that was uniquely mine. And it’s a lot of fun to deliver babies.”