Medical Single Plus Bonus Novella / Doctor Daddy / Single Doctor, Single Dad!

by Jacqueline Diamond; Janice Lynn

  He was about to ring the bell when the sound of her voice floated from an open upstairs window. “No, I haven’t made an appointment, Brooke. Getting inseminated is a major step.”

  Inseminated? He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on such a personal conversation.

  “Please don’t mention it to the foxes.” He wondered what she meant by “foxes.” Maybe he’d misunderstood the word. “What am I supposed to tell them? Hi, my name is Jane and I’m a baby-aholic?”

  The discovery that she wanted a baby startled Luke. Jane always seemed so self-contained that, if he’d thought about it at all, he’d have figured she had too much sense to run herself ragged between a career and single parenthood. Still, he had enough experience to understand the strength of the parental drive.

  But having a child alone was far from an ideal situation. Luke had learned a lot these past years, including the fact that Zoey craved closeness with her father as well as her mother. It must be difficult for any single parent to compensate.

  Well, Jane was old enough and smart enough to make choices without his advice.

  Overhead, she resumed her side of the conversation. “Thanks for the encouragement. Of course I don’t mind you calling me about Marlene’s rash. I’ll take a look at the potluck. Oh, Lord, what time is it?”

  That was his cue to sneak home undetected, Luke decided. She’d never suspect he’d heard a thing.

  Except that, as he turned to go, her sprinklers whirred into action. His instinctive curse and flying leap onto the porch brought an eruption of barking from inside. He couldn’t have raised more racket if he’d set off a burglar alarm.

  “Who’s there?” demanded Jane’s voice from upstairs.

  “It’s me,” he responded sheepishly.

  “Would that be Salesman Me, Peeping Tom Me or Dr. Me?” she inquired.

  “Dr. Me.”

  “Wait there.”

  A minute later, the water shut off. He tried flapping his shirt to dry it, which proved about as effective as emptying a bathtub with a teaspoon. Thank goodness for seventy-degree weather in March.

  The door opened. “Sorry about our cooking date. I’m running late.” That was obvious from her rumpled hair and a short nightgown that skimmed her breasts and barely cleared her hips. What incredibly long, smooth legs. He had a sudden, vivid memory of how they’d felt, tangled up with his. “I must have turned off the alarm clock in my sleep.”

  Luke took a deep breath and hoped she didn’t notice the telltale bulge in his jeans. “Maybe we should cancel my lesson.”

  Her gaze scorched across the shirt stuck to his chest. “My sprinklers were rough on you, weren’t they? You look like a six-foot-tall drowned rat.”

  “Six foot one. And yes, you have ruthless, possibly sociopathic sprinklers.”

  She laughed. “Did you buy ingredients already?”

  “I did,” Luke said. “You’re the one who taught me to come to class prepared.”

  “Bring everything over and we’ll cook here,” she offered. “I have to fix a pasta salad and that’s going to take a while, but I did promise to help you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go change.” Luke made his getaway. The image of her in that close-fitting silk teddy stuck in his mind all the way home.

  While she’d been merely pretty in medical school, she’d matured into an alluring woman. And she hadn’t seemed the least bit shy about letting him see her that way.

  But Jane was his new partner. He didn’t intend to risk their business relationship or their tentatively resumed friendship by moving too fast.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t think about the possibilities.

  Chapter Four

  After setting a pot of water on the stove to boil, Jane ran upstairs to throw on some clothes. Stopgap loped behind, complaining in his doggy way about the disruptions to his schedule.

  “Don’t blame Luke,” she told him. “We did have a date of sorts. And I’m sorry about missing your walk this morning. I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

  With a whine, he flopped onto the bathroom floor. She pushed aside a twinge of guilt.

  As she shrugged out of her teddy, Jane recalled the heat that had rushed through her as she caught Luke’s gaze trailing across her body. Did he think she hadn’t noticed? How could any woman fail to spot that?

  She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t grabbed her robe. Perhaps because Luke had acted so casual the other day when she’d seen him bare chested. It wouldn’t hurt him to get teased a little in exchange. Besides, it felt good to be appreciated by a sexy man, even though there was no way they were going to take things any further.

  A short while later, Jane was trimming broccoli and sugar snap peas when the doorbell rang. She hurried to let Luke in.

  Above a tray piled with baking supplies, a deep purple shirt brought out the violet depths of his eyes. She was glad she’d put on tailored slacks and a figure-hugging top instead of her usual weekend odds and ends.

  Okay, now she was staring at him. His appreciative smile told her he hadn’t missed a thing. “You look great. But I prefer that sleek little number you were wearing before.”

  “So do I.”

  “Whoa!” His brows lifted. “Care to explain?”

  “It’s very comfortable,” Jane deadpanned. “Now let’s get to work. I am not baking those cookies for you.”

  “No one asked you to.”

  “Point taken.”

  He seemed to fill her tiny black-and-white-tiled kitchen. “There’s nothing like a little good-natured badinage to get the juices flowing on a Saturday morning.”

  “Bad in what?” she shot back. That sounded like a medical procedure, although she was pretty sure it wasn’t.

  “It means repartee. My dad used to make us memorize a new word every day.”

  From the pantry, Jane retrieved a package of rotini noodles and a can of olives. “My dad was a truck driver. He taught me a new curse word a day.” That was only a slight exaggeration.

  Luke chuckled. “I’ll bet those are more useful than ‘badinage.’”

  “Depends on whom you want to impress.” She glanced at the recipe he’d brought and told him to set the oven to 375 degrees. “Is your dad an English teacher?” she asked, fetching a mixing bowl for him.

  “He’s a retired financial consultant.”

  “Don’t you have a couple of brothers, too?” She vaguely recalled him mentioning them, but she’d forgotten most of what he’d said about his family.

  “One’s a lawyer. The other’s a financial guru like Dad. And you’re an only child, right?”

  “Yep.” Well, they’d covered that topic. Now to the matter at hand. She showed how to soften the butter and mix the dough, and watched to make sure he didn’t drop any eggshell into the bowl.

  He had strong, sure hands, the hands of a surgeon. While Jane had outshone Luke at diagnosing and prescribing, he’d proved a natural in the operating room. He knew just how to touch a woman, too, she recalled, and set to chopping vegetables with more vigor than was really necessary.

  Following her directions, Luke folded in the chocolate chips smoothly. “What’re you making?”

  Jane showed him the pasta salad recipe and explained that she had to cook the noodles, steam the vegetables, make the dressing then mix it and let the whole thing chill. “I should have done this hours ago. I doubt it’ll be ready by noon.”

  “Surely everyone doesn’t arrive right on time.”

  She had to admit he was right. “Okay, I’ll quit obsessing.”

  He paused, wrist-deep in dough. “You keep grinning at me.”

  “I do?” He looked cute in a kitchen, she realized, embarrassed at having been caught. It was just that she’d never associated Luke with anything remotely domestic.

  “I figured I must have a chocolate chip stuck to my nose or something.”

  “Sure. Give it a dab and knock it off.”

  He reached for his nose, and wound up with a smear of dough on one cheek. “
Hey! Dirty trick!”

  “Which you fell for. Sucker!” Amused, Jane dampened a paper towel and wiped his face. “I can’t imagine how you maintain a sterile surgical field when you’re so clumsy.” Even though, of course, he was nothing of the sort.

  He grinned. “If my ego ever gets too big, I can rely on good old Jane to bring it down to size.”

  “Is that who I am? Good old Jane?” No sooner had she uttered those words than she regretted them. “Don’t mind me.”

  “Maybe we should get this out in the open,” he said quietly. “I mean, about what happened between us.”

  How about what’s happening now? Like the tautness of her breasts and the longing to hold him… Don’t think about it. “That’s old news,” she said with feigned lightness, and grabbed a baking sheet. “Let me show you how to grease this. The recipe says not to, but don’t believe everything you read.”

  Instead of responding, he stood there regarding her with an expression that was hard to figure out. Why couldn’t she guess what he was thinking? In med school, she’d practically been able to read his mind.

  But they weren’t in school anymore. Jane thrust a spray bottle of oil into Luke’s hand and watched while he used it.

  “I take it the past is verboten?” he asked.

  “Is that another of your posh words?” she teased.

  “Right up there with gesundheit.”

  She showed him how to drop rounded tablespoonfuls of dough onto the sheet, then let him take over. “Very neatly spaced, Doc.”

  “Thanks for being such a good teacher,” he said. “You’re going to make a great mom.”

  “What?”

  He blinked. “I mean, someday.”

  He hadn’t sounded as if he meant someday. Oh, good heavens, he’d been standing right below her bedroom. And she’d been talking much louder than she should have near an open window. “You heard me on the phone.”

  He ducked his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  Of all the people she’d rather not find out about her private yearnings, Luke headed the list. As her office partner, however, he’d be bound to learn the truth if she chose to go ahead with this. Not that she would ever in a million years let him deliver her baby.

  “It’s just an option. I haven’t made up my mind.” Turning back to her work, Jane tried to keep her tone casual.

  “You’re not my patient, so it’s not my place to comment.” After spooning out the last of the dough, Luke slid the baking sheet into the oven. It got stuck at an angle, but he straightened it and closed the door.

  “What do you mean, comment?” When it came to medical issues, Jane knew as much as he did. “About what?”

  “Parenthood.” He set his watch alarm for what she presumed was the correct time: ten minutes.

  Parenthood? “And you’re an expert on that?” On the other hand, she’d rather let him say his piece and get it over with. “Go ahead. Give me your sage advice.”

  Luke washed his hands in the sink, scrubbing the nails as if prepping for surgery. “Kids are demanding and complicated. It’s hard for a single parent to meet all their needs.”

  Jane dumped the pasta into the strainer with such force that hot water splashed onto the counter. “I never took you for the judgmental type.”

  “Heck, it’s hard for two parents to cope. Besides, you asked for my opinion.”

  “All right. Now you’ve aired it, and we’re done.”

  “You never intended to listen, did you?” he challenged.

  Jane recognized she might be overreacting, and didn’t care. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Luke agreed. “But fathers aren’t superfluous. I presume you’ve read the studies.”

  She had. Children who lacked fathers ran a higher risk of getting into trouble as adolescents. “Statistics don’t tell the whole story.”

  “True.” He raised his hands, palms out. “I’ve said all I mean to say, and I’ll shut up. Peace?”

  “Peace.” Tight-lipped, Jane carried on with her salad, while he washed his mixing bowl and utensils. She didn’t need to be reminded that she’d be better off if she’d found a wonderful guy the way Brooke and some of her other friends had.

  When his watch alarm went off, Luke removed the perfectly browned cookies.

  He broke the silence at last. “Listen, I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought we were just having a discussion.”

  “A personal discussion provoked by your eavesdropping.” Why couldn’t he offer support rather than criticism as she weighed this major decision?

  Luke transferred the cookies to a heavy paper plate. “Maybe I should explain about the single-parenting thing.”

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “I’m not simply offering an opinion. I’ve been meaning to tell you…” He broke off as Stopgap padded into the kitchen. Flopping onto Jane’s feet, the dog rolled over and waved his paws in the air. “What’s he doing?”

  “We missed our morning walk.” Suddenly she itched for the release of a brisk stroll, with only the dog for company. Besides, she was in no mood for more highhanded advice. “Why don’t I meet you at the potluck?”

  “Are you angry?” Luke asked.

  “I’m furious.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “You are the most aggravating…”

  “I believe the correct word is irritating.”

  “That, too!”

  He covered the plate with plastic wrap. “See you at the potluck.”

  “See you.” Thank goodness there’d be plenty of other people around. Jane really didn’t want to waste her pasta salad by dumping it over this man’s arrogant head.

  After Luke left, she cleaned up, refrigerated the salad and attached Stopgap’s leash. Outside, she stalked up the street, her anger dissipating slowly as she replayed Luke’s remarks.

  For some reason, his opinion mattered to her. And that fact bugged her more than anything.

  LUKE WAS SPRAWLED on the couch with a medical journal, staring at an article about the latest developments in 3-D mammograms and not absorbing a word of it.

  Why was Jane so eager to have a child by herself? Surely plenty of men would love to… No, that wasn’t right. A woman didn’t need plenty of men. Just the right one. Obviously, she’d never found him.

  It certainly wasn’t Luke. She’d made that clear ten years ago, beating a retreat from his apartment as if he carried smallpox and she hadn’t been vaccinated. Not that he’d been ready for a serious relationship at that point, but he’d hoped for more. She’d never forgiven him, either. The worst of it was, he still didn’t know exactly how he’d ticked her off.

  Just had a gift for it, he supposed. He’d stomped all over her toes a short while ago with his clumsy remarks about parenting. He’d only been trying to share his personal experiences. Wasn’t that what friends did?

  The doorbell rang. His spirits lifting in the hope that she’d decided to stop by en route to the party, he hurried to answer.

  Instead of Jane, Luke opened the door on the friendly face of his blond landlady, Sherry Montoya. Her tall, dark-haired husband, Rafe, stood behind her on the porch, along with his five-year-old twins, Juan and Sofia.

  “Going to the potluck?” Sherry asked. “If you’d like to walk over with us, we could introduce you around.”

  Luke readily agreed. A few minutes later, plate of cookies in hand, he strolled along with the family.

  “I love this neighborhood,” Sherry enthused as they passed a house with a striped awning. “It feels like home now, even though everybody hated me when I first moved in.”

  It was hard to imagine anyone hating someone with Sherry’s outgoing personality. “Why on earth?”

  “I wanted to tear down the cottage and replace it with a huge house. Stupid idea, huh? That would have destroyed part of the neighborhood’s history, not to mention its charm.”

  “What changed your mind?”

/>   “The man I’d trusted, my fiancé, stole my money. I couldn’t afford to rebuild,” Sherry told him. “It’s a long story, but the important part is that I found myself living here unexpectedly. You might call it a growing experience.”

  As they crossed the street, her husband reached for Juan’s hand and Sherry took Sofia’s. “She’s a quick learner,” Rafe commented. “And a fantastic mom.”

  “What happened to the fiancé?” Luke asked.

  “The FBI finally caught up with him,” Sherry said buoyantly. “I got most of my money back, too. But by then, I’d discovered there are more valuable ways to spend my life than buying designer clothes and throwing fancy parties. Unless they’re for fund-raisers, of course.”

  “The children live with you full-time?” Catching Rafe’s startled expression, Luke explained, “I figured your ex-wife probably had joint custody.”

  Neither of his neighbors spoke until the twins scampered ahead along the sidewalk. Then Rafe said, “Juan and Sofia are my niece and nephew. Their parents died in a fire almost two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  As they turned a corner, the murmur of voices and splash of water greeted them. Ahead, trees surrounded a pool dotted with swimmers and colorful floating tubes. On the terrace above, the doors of the glass-fronted clubhouse stood open, allowing a small crowd of people to circulate between outdoor tables and the indoor serving area.

  Luke caught the scent of grilling meat. As they entered through a gate, he recognized Oliver as one of the two men flipping hamburgers at a pair of barbecues. They joined a crowd of roughly fifty people, some waiting in a line for burgers, others filling their plates at serving stations.

  “I’d start with the desserts if I didn’t have to set a good example for the kids,” Rafe muttered, indicating a table laden with goodies. Two junior-high-age girls stood slicing cake onto paper plates, while a third tucked business cards onto each one.

  Sherry indicated the trio. “That’s Brittany in the frilly apron. She runs a part-time baking business. Carly, the one with highlighted hair, is Brittany’s stepsister, and Suzy Ching’s their friend. We’ve started calling them the Little Foxes.”