The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? (5 page)

S
ara Beth let herself into her mother’s house at six o’clock on Tuesday night. No scent of food greeted her, which meant they would be eating out. “I’m here!” she called, then shut the front door.

“Be out in a sec,” came Grace O’Connell’s reply from her bedroom at the back of the house.

In reverse of Sara Beth’s housing situation, Grace owned her two-story Victorian, lived downstairs and rented out the second story to a Harvard law professor. It was the house where Sara Beth grew up.

“Cute blouse,” Grace said. “You actually shopped.”

“Guilty.” Sara Beth hugged her mom, wondering as usual if Grace was ever going to age. Although sixty-two, she looked much younger, her hair long, straight
and blond, her few wrinkles mostly laugh lines fanning from the corners of her crystal-blue eyes. She and Sara Beth could trade clothes, if they wanted, they were built so similarly.

Sara Beth adored her. She’d had a wonderful childhood, had never felt denied anything—except a father, or even a father figure. If her mother had dated, Sara Beth never knew about it.

“How come you didn’t call me to shop with you?” Grace asked, stepping back to look at her daughter more closely. “I would’ve been happy to go along.”

“I didn’t plan it. I found myself in front of the Gap yesterday. Everything was on sale. I still spent way too much.”

Grace cocked her head. “Who is he?”

It wouldn’t do any good to hold back. Her mother could spot a lie every time. “It’s not what you think.”

“Anytime a woman who hates to shop goes shopping, and buys more than she thinks she needs, there’s a man involved.”

“You buy new clothes all the time. I’ve never seen evidence of a man.”

“I
like
to shop.” She slipped into her coat and stuffed her wallet into a pocket. “Did you buy new lingerie?”

Sara Beth almost choked. “No, Mother. I did not.”

“You’re blushing. Hmm. That’s interesting. Tell me about him.”

“We’re just friends.”

Grace rolled her eyes, hooked her arm in Sara Beth’s and headed toward the door. “Which is the most pathetic lie in the lexicon of dating.”

“It’s the truth in this case. I did go to a family dinner with him last weekend, but he called it a rescue date. His parents get on him about still being single and I went as a decoy.” And ended up being aroused by his touch. Not exactly within the definition of “friend.”

Outside, Grace slid her key into the lock. “So, he used you? How charming.”

“I said yes because it suited my purposes, Mom, not his. I’ve gotten in a bad habit of staying home, especially now that Lisa practically lives at the institute. I decided to shake up my routine.” She smiled. “So, where are we going?”

“Don’t change the subject, young lady.”

“There’s no subject to change. Nothing’s going on.” They turned right at the end of the walkway. Sara Beth guessed they were going to Santini’s, a small family-style restaurant two blocks away.

“Are you going out with him again?”

Sara Beth managed not to sigh. “Not on a date. I’m going to help him shop for furniture for his place on Saturday.”

“Why?”

“Because he asked.”
And because I want to
.

“Why aren’t you telling me who he is, Sara Beth? If it’s no big deal—”

“It’s Dr. Bonner, okay? Ted Bonner.”

Grace’s brows arched. “The new research doctor?”

“Yes. I’m on a special assignment to help him and Dr. Demetrios, at Lisa’s request.”

“Somehow I doubt that includes tending to their personal needs.”

“Look, Mom. It’s a change of pace, something new to do.”

“And you bought new clothes.”

Sara Beth threw up her hands. “Because you’d been after me for months to do so. Now that I have, you’re making a federal case out of it.”

“Not about the clothes, sweetheart, and you know it.”

“I remember all your lessons, Mom. All of them. Don’t date doctors and especially don’t fall in love with them. I got it. I’ve heeded it. Is that a new hairstyle?” she asked lightly.

Her mother laughed. “All right. I’ll lay off. For now.”

“Forev—”

“It’s a little shorter,” Grace said, fluffing her hair. “And just a tad blonder.”

While her mother relayed the latest gossip from her hairstylist, Sara Beth debated whether to bring up the subject of her father…donor. She really didn’t want to resort to sneaking a look at her mother’s file, breaking rules, risking the chance of getting caught, but she’d waited long enough. And the opportunity to learn about her father might never come her way again.

But just then they arrived at Santini’s, and the moment passed, at least for now. It wasn’t a subject she could bring up in a public venue, especially if her mother got as angry as she had the other times Sara Beth had asked.

So they settled into noncontroversial topics for the rest of the evening, then on the walk home, Grace said casually, “I won’t be able to have dinner next Tuesday.”

“How come?”

“I’m going to Cancún for a week. I leave on Saturday.”

Is she blushing?
Sara Beth wondered, eyeing her. “Who’re you going with?”

“No one. I just wanted a break from winter.”

“You’re going
alone?
” She and her mother had traveled together a lot through the years, but mostly driving trips to the shore.

“Would you like to come?”

“I can’t. Not right now. But why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“I decided this morning. I found an incredible deal for an all-inclusive resort. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m excited about it.”

Something wasn’t ringing true, Sara Beth decided. On the surface, maybe her mother was being honest, but there was more to it.

“E-mail me your itinerary,” Sara Beth said, giving her mother a hug. Maybe after the trip, she would open up. “And have fun. Remember your sunscreen. I do envy you a week of sunshine.”

“And margaritas.”

“That, too.”

During the bus ride home, Sara Beth tried to examine her mother’s announcement. She wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment person. Like Sara Beth, her mother analyzed, planned, then finally executed, usually to unsurprising results. Taking off for Cancún on only a few days’ notice was shocking enough, but to go alone?

Sara Beth’s cell phone rang as she stepped off the bus at her stop.

“Hi, it’s Ted. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

She knew his voice already, the deep, even tone that shot a thrill through her. The voice she hadn’t dared to hope she would hear. “No. Actually you’re keeping me company.”

“In what way?”

“I just got off the bus and I’m walking home. What’s up?”

“You know that stack of catalogs and magazines you gave me today?”

“Of course.” She’d asked him to thumb through them and turn down the pages of what appealed to him, then she could figure out where they needed to shop.

“I’m not seeing anything I like.”

“Nothing?” She’d given him everything from
Pottery Barn
and
Restoration Hardware
catalogs to
Architectural Digest
magazines.

“Does that mean it’s hopeless?” he asked.

“I don’t know what it means. Maybe I’ll know more when I see the art you want to display.” She was curious about his loft, too, was looking forward to seeing where he lived. “Or maybe what it means is you should take Tricia up on her offer to help. Or hire a real decorator.”

He didn’t respond immediately. “Let’s see what we can do first. Where are you?”

“Not far from home. Why?”

“Can you see your house?”

“No, but I will in a few seconds. There. It’s in view. Why?”

“Just trying to get a picture of how far you’d gotten.” His tone was casual, but—

It hit her then. He was watching over her. He was keeping her on the phone until she was safely home. Maybe he gave his mother credit for drumming etiquette into him, but this wasn’t etiquette. This was a character trait, one she valued, and probably deeply ingrained in him.

Sara Beth was raised to be independent, like her mother. They’d never had a man around to help. It was always just the two of them, or the handyman they hired occasionally when a job was beyond their skills.

“I’m turning up my walkway,” she said, letting him know she knew what he was doing. “Climbing the first step. The second. Third. I’ve reached the landing.”

She heard him laugh softly, so she put a little drama into her voice. “I’m inserting the key in my lock. Oh, look! It’s turning. I’m opening the door. Now I’m shutting it—”

“And locking it.”

She put her phone next to the bolt as it fell into place. Locked.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No.” And she wasn’t. Warmth at his concern wove through her. She swallowed, not knowing what to tell him, so she just continued on with her running commentary. “I’m climbing the indoor stairs…unlocking my door…going inside…shutting and locking it. Done. Thank you. I couldn’t have managed it without you.”

He laughed.

“No, seriously, Ted, that was very thoughtful of you, walking me home.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Friends
. She toed off her shoes and sank onto her sofa. “I was coming back from dinner with my mom. We generally get together on Tuesdays.”

“That’s…nice?”

She laughed at how he turned it into a question. “Unlike you, my mom doesn’t pester me—that was the word, right?
Pester?
Anyway, she’s not after me about getting married.” But Sara Beth felt ready. She didn’t want to wait—had no reason to wait, in fact. She had a good job and money in the bank, had dated enough to know what she was looking for and who not to waste her time on.

“Which is why you see your mother every week, and I don’t do the same.”

“For my mom and me, it’s a routine,” she said, considering it. “We started the Tuesday-night dinners when I moved out after graduation six years ago, so it’s not just a routine but an ingrained habit now.”

“Like me not having furniture. I’m almost used to it.”

“We’ll figure out something. Maybe you can show me what you don’t like.”

“I’d be dog-earing almost every page. Well, I just wanted to warn you that the job may be harder than you were planning on. Might take longer than you think. I mean, if you have a date on Saturday night, tell me what time you need to be home.”

She hated admitting she didn’t have a date. He already knew she hadn’t had a date on Valentine’s Day. “I don’t have plans.”

“I appreciate your help, Sara Beth. You’ve been a good sport. See you tomorrow.”

She hung up the phone with a sigh. A good sport. He wasn’t the first man to call her that. Men enjoyed her company, and usually wanted to stay friends so that they could continue to unburden their personal woes on good-sport Sara Beth, who was a good listener, nonjudgmental and accommodating. And here she was, repeating the pattern.

Technically he’s your boss
. At least until this project was done. Which was an excellent reason for just being a good sport, she reminded herself, particularly since her body tingled around him.

She could always step back. If, after Saturday, she felt too drawn to him, too attracted, she could say no if he asked her to do anything outside of the institute.

But…would she?

The next morning Sara Beth felt her pulse rev and her face heat as she walked down the hall toward the lab. She bent over at a water fountain outside the room and took a long drink, stalling. The anticipation of seeing Ted had made falling asleep hard, then she’d found herself awake an hour before her alarm went off.

Straightening, she swallowed the cold water, then caught a glimpse of Ted through the window as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. He was wearing his glasses and lab coat, his hair tousled as if he’d plunged his hands into it more than once. From frustration? Impatience?

Then Derek Armstrong moved into view, coming up beside Ted to look at his computer screen. Sara Beth frowned. Why was he there? As CFO of the institute, Derek wouldn’t normally drop in on the research doctors. There wouldn’t seem to be a reason for him to do so.

Even though Sara Beth had spent a lot of time in the Armstrong home, Derek and his twin brother, Paul, were eight years older. She’d lost track of them until she’d come to work full-time at the institute. She did know that Derek and Paul were opposites in many ways, ways that made Paul a good chief of staff, respected and liked, and Derek more hard-nosed, since he was the money guy. But he hadn’t endeared himself to the staff.

Or at least not lately. People hadn’t whispered behind his back until recently. His expression was stern now as he talked with Ted.

Suddenly Ted looked toward the window. Sara Beth pulled back before he could see her watching. She didn’t know why she was nervous about seeing him this morning, except that as she’d gotten to know him more each day, she’d found more to like each day, too. Her last boyfriend, a six-month relationship that had ended a couple months ago, would never have kept her on the phone until she was safely inside her house. He’d always “respected her independence,” as he’d put it—perhaps because she’d made sure he knew her independence was something she prided herself on.

But after last night she’d altered her thinking a little. Being independent didn’t mean she couldn’t let a man be considerate.

Ted had made her feel special. With a simple gesture he made her previous boyfriends seem uncaring. And Ted wasn’t even her boyfriend.

Derek came out of the lab, smiled slightly at her, then held the door for her to enter.

“Good morning,” Ted said, his posture a little stiff.

“Hi,” she said, going straight to her desk, upon which was the shopping bag full of catalogs and magazines she’d brought him the day before.

“I found a few possibilities online and printed them off,” he said. “Some styles that appealed to me. They’re on top.”

“That’s great.” She pulled out the papers, glanced at them, then nodded. “It’s you.”

“I don’t know what’s me, exactly, but I liked it.”