His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

  Yet what choice did she have? She understood his need to spend time with his son. After being away from Jeremy all day, she treasured their evening hours before he fell asleep and the day's routine of work and day care repeated itself.

  She had one problem. More than one, actually, but the two were intertwined. "Without going to the grocery store first, I don't have anything for a picnic."

  "All right. We'll spend this evening at the grocery story and save our picnic for Friday."

  "It doesn't take an entire evening to go shopping," she pointed out.

  "Maybe not for groceries, but there are other things I want to shop for," he said firmly.

  "Then you don't need us along. I've learned that shopping with Jeremy is an exercise in patience."

  "Yes, but that was when you went alone. You aren't alone any more."

  But for how long? she silently wondered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ADRIAN bounded up the sidewalk to Sabrina's door some thirty minutes after he'd left the ER at six, grinning like a loon with excitement. Granted, a shopping expedition wasn't normally something he enjoyed, but he planned to accomplish two objectives in one swoop.

  Naturally, he also hoped for the perfect opportunity to kiss her again. Oh, he remembered what she'd said—no more kissing—but after their first experience, it was the only thing he could think about. Tasting her, feeling her body against his, only whetted his appetite for more of the same.

  It was amazing how quickly he'd fallen into his old habit of wanting her so badly he ached. He'd only been deluding himself when he'd thought they could work together in the same facility on a platonic basis. They'd always been fuel to each other's fires and limiting their contact to the hours of their shifts wouldn't have changed that.

  If not for Jeremy, though, he'd be in a position of only looking and never touching because he wouldn't have been able to convince Sabrina to see him once her shift ended. While he had to proceed slowly and tread softly, now he had unlimited possibilities to remind her of how good they'd been together.

  In the back of his mind a little voice taunted him. An honorable man would respect her wish for you to stay away.

  An honorable man probably would, he privately agreed, but being honorable had provided cold comfort on those days and nights when he'd been alone. Being honorable had cost him a great deal more than he was willing to pay. Being honorable had turned him into a bitter, frustrated man and he wanted to regain his old self. The only way to do that was to coax Sabrina back into his life.

  He knocked. At the answering reply of "It's open," he strode in and found Sabrina feeding Jeremy something yellow. From the frowns on the baby's face, he clearly didn't approve of what his mother was shoveling into his mouth as fast as he spit it out.

  "What is that?" he asked as he approached to tug on Jeremy's socked foot.

  The little boy smiled, kicked and waved his arms as if happy to see him, and Adrian's heart flip-flopped with love.

  "Squash."

  He grimaced. "I don't blame him. By the way, do you always leave the door unlocked?"

  "No, I don't, but I knew you were coming. Besides, any self-respecting thief wouldn't waste his time barging in here. I don't own anything that's worth money on the street, unless they're looking for a baby stroller."

  Her answer had pacified him, but her reasons had not. "You're assuming everyone who breaks in is a thief. Any pretty single woman living alone needs to be concerned about her personal security. Our Jane Doe should have convinced you of that."

  "I'm fine, Adrian. As I said, the door is usually locked."

  "Good," he said, recognizing the mulish set to her jaw as a sign to drop the subject, and he did. "Do we need to make a list for the store?"

  "We're only getting picnic food," she said, "not stocking the Queen Mary."

  "No, but I noticed yesterday that your fridge was quite bare."

  She shrugged. "One person doesn't eat that much."

  He pressed on, determined to get answers. "I recall a time when your refrigerator was full."

  "It was also a time when we were together. We aren't, so I only buy half as much as I did before."

  He might have believed her if she hadn't avoided his gaze and if he'd found a few of her favorite foods, but he hadn't. Instead, he'd only seen the items familiar to students who struggled to make ends meet—macaroni and cheese, instant oriental noodles, and cans of tuna.

  In his mind, other observations fell into place—her lack of furniture, the absence of her prized stereo system, the tiny apartment in a not-so-good part of town. She hadn't been in these dire straits when she'd lived in Denver and worked at Mercy Memorial. Between the move here and the expense of a baby, she was clearly struggling financially.

  Immediately, he felt guilty on many levels. While she might not have much in terms of possessions, one thing she had in abundance was her pride. She probably wouldn't confide in him but he had to try.

  "You have a cash-flow problem," he stated.

  "What makes you say that?" Once again, she concentrated on Jeremy as if to avoid his gaze.

  "The signs are here," he said bluntly. "It took me a while to put them together, but I'm right, aren't I?"

  "We have everything we need, Adrian." This time she met his gaze and glared at him. "Don't imagine or imply that we don't."

  "But you're doing without a lot of things."

  "We have everything we need," she repeated firmly. "As for doing without, so what if we are? What I do isn't any of your business."

  "If it concerns Jeremy, it concerns me."

  "It doesn't concern Jeremy," she insisted.

  "Tell me what I want to know or I'll ask other people my questions," he warned. "And I don't think you'd want that."

  "Oh, all right," she groused, clearly irritated by his persistence. "Yes, money is tight. I ended up with a few more expenses than I'd anticipated, but I'm making headway in my debts."

  "How?"

  "Whatever you do, Adrian, do not offer money because I won't take it. I don't want anything from you. I won't be a charity case again."

  He paused, surprised by her vehemence. "Is it that distasteful to accept a helping hand?"

  She scoffed. "Absolutely. You pay for your so-called helping hand one way or another. Nothing is ever free."

  "I wouldn't ask you to pay."

  "Sometimes you pay with something more precious than money. You pay with a part of yourself. When I was growing up I wore my cousins' hand-me-downs because my aunt refused to spend money on new clothes for me. I was told to be grateful.

  "I took a paper route so I could have money to buy what the other girls took for granted. I'll never forget the time I stood in the checkout lane and discovered I was a quarter short and had to choose which item I wouldn't buy while people waited impatiently in line for me to finish. A generous soul took pity on me and made up the difference. I was grateful, but had never been so embarrassed."

  Now he understand where her strong sense of pride had been born. "OK, if you won't accept a gift, how about a loan?"

  "I have all the loans I need. Save your money for Clay…or your redheaded girlfriend. How is she handling your separation these days?"

  "I don't know. But as you've mentioned her, I spent last night thinking of all the women I know who fit your description. The only one I can recall was Clay's physical therapist."

  "That must have been convenient for you."

  Inwardly, he smiled at her sarcasm because he wanted to believe it implied she still cared, even if it was only subconsciously. "Actually, she never came to the house. In fact, once I thought of her, I remembered the day you saw us together. She'd just come from Clay's room to tell me that he could feel his toes. It was quite an emotional moment for all of us."

  The anger on her face turned to surprised dismay. "Oh."

  "It certainly makes me wonder how differently our lives would have turned out if you two had had better timing," he mused aloud.

&
nbsp; "We'll never know, will we?" She took Jeremy out of his carrier. "I'll change his diaper and then we can go."

  Adrian knew if he wanted to provide any sort of financial assistance, he'd have to be creative. And he was.

  By the time they'd reached the checkout counter at the grocery store, he'd filled the cart to the heaped stage.

  "We can't possibly take all this to our picnic tomorrow," she complained. "Apples and oranges? Three kinds of cheese. Two pounds of ham and turkey. And all your fresh vegetables will spoil before they're eaten. Unless you plan to invite the entire ER staff to join us."

  "Then we'll both be able to pack our lunches," he said, unconcerned.

  She tried to separate the package of disposable diapers and the cans of formula away from his items, but he stopped her. "Leave them," he ordered.

  "I can pay for Jeremy's things," she protested.

  "I'm sure you can," he said smoothly, "but consider this a belated baby-shower present."

  "That isn't necessary."

  "No, it isn't, but unless you want to make a scene, I'd suggest you simply smile and say 'Thank you'."

  For a moment he thought she'd argue. She'd squared her shoulders and looked ready to scold him, but then, as if she realized the futility, her stance relaxed and she offered a resigned half-smile. "Thanks."

  * * *

  The next day, as soon as Sabrina stepped out to take a well-deserved fifteen-minute break, Adrian cornered Hilary. "I saw Sabrina again last night," he commented.

  "Again? I thought you two weren't going out at all until Friday?"

  He flashed her a sheepish grin. "I jumped the gun. I couldn't wait."

  She frowned at him. "As much as I'd like to see Sabrina with someone who'll appreciate her, with all due respect, you're one of those here-today-gone-tomorrow fellas. She doesn't need someone who'll cut out on her just when she's starting to depend on him."

  "No, she doesn't," he agreed.

  "Long-distance relationships usually don't work out, either."

  "Ours will."

  "You sound awfully certain."

  He was, but of all the things he and Sabrina had discussed, announcing to the world that he was Jeremy's father hadn't been one of them. Once word leaked out—and it would, either by choice or by accident—the staff would treat him differently because their loyalties lay with Sabrina. After enjoying a more congenial work atmosphere and being treated like one of the guys, he selfishly didn't want to ruin a good thing until he proved himself to Sabrina and every one else.

  He shrugged. "I have a gut feeling."

  "Hmmm. Time will tell," she said ominously before she changed the subject. "What do you think of her little boy?"

  "He's great," Adrian said, warming to the subject just as Sabrina always did. "He's so much fun to be around and he does the most interesting things for a baby his age. I've not seen a kid so inquisitive. Why, just last night, he jabbered for so long and was so serious about the noises he was making, it was like having a conversation. And he's so determined to start crawling." He grinned, remembering how Jeremy had maneuvered himself to his hands and knees before looking at Adrian as if to ask, What comes next?

  He felt Hilary's careful study, her black-eyed gaze sharp, and hoped he hadn't blown his cover by sounding more like a proud papa than Bree's prospective suitor. "What can I say?" He shrugged. "I like kids."

  "You know," she mused aloud, "a lot of men would consider that child as baggage or a necessary evil to get to his mama."

  "They would," he agreed, "but I'm not one of them."

  "Hmmm." The speculation in her eyes suddenly took on a knowing gleam. "You're his daddy, aren't you?" she asked in her southern drawl.

  Startled by her insight as well as her daring, he struggled to frame an answer.

  "By the way you're flapping your jaw, I'd say so," the charge nurse decided. She crossed her arms and a mulish expression appeared on her pudgy features. "If you ask me, that girl is far too forgiving, especially after everything she's handled by herself."

  "We had a falling out," he said stiffly, "and I didn't know she was pregnant when she left. I'm not proud of the way she had to handle things on her own, but she won't go it alone from now on."

  He felt Hilary's gaze as if she was trying to determine his sincerity, then she nodded.

  "Good."

  "The problem is, I know she's having financial difficulties, but she won't be specific—at least, not to me. Which is why I've come to you for answers."

  Sabrina's reasons involved more than pride, he decided. A year's worth of mistrust tagged along, too. He hadn't helped matters either when he'd hinted at pursuing legal action by his fathers-have-rights-too comment. No doubt she was afraid that his more secure financial position would give him an edge with the courts.

  So much for hoping she'd tell him about her troubles herself.

  "If she won't talk, then I shouldn't, either. Every woman is entitled to her secrets."

  "I'm not asking for her account numbers or her bank balance," he said sharply. "Why don't I tell you what I think and you can tell me if I'm right or wrong?"

  Hilary pinched her bottom lip in obvious indecision. "This is against my better judgement," she finally said, "but if you're that boy's daddy, you should know the facts. Just remember, though. You didn't hear this from me."

  He pantomimed locking his mouth. "My lips are sealed."

  Thinking of the photo he'd seen in her album, he began. "She probably had a rough pregnancy and missed a lot of work."

  Hilary clutched the clipboard to her chest. "That isn't the half of it. At first she just had morning sickness, but it lasted all day. There were times I found her retching in the bathroom between patients. In fact, sometimes I thought she was sicker than most of the folks who came in by ambulance. The doctor wanted to admit her, but she refused. She finally agreed to cut her hours to part time and sold a lot of her furniture to make ends meet.

  "After that stage finally passed, her blood pressure went haywire. This time she gave in when the doctor told her to stop working because, as she told me, she couldn't afford to lose her baby."

  He was all I had. Hilary's words twisted the knife that Sabrina had thrust into his gut. "So Sabrina spent the final months of her pregnancy at home and probably took out a loan for her living expenses," he guessed.

  Hilary's nod confirmed his theory.

  "But that doesn't explain why she's still broke. Doesn't Pinehaven pay for the employees' single coverage health insurance policies?"

  "They do," Hilary agreed, "except for maternity benefits within one year of enrollment in the plan."

  That explained it. The situation was worse than he'd thought. A high-interest loan for living expenses, a huge hospital and doctor's bill, as well as expenses associated with a baby meant Sabrina had to stretch her dollar beyond the breaking point. Considering he was responsible for her circumstances, he was surprised Sabrina spoke to him at all.

  "So," Hilary said after a soft sigh, "she picks up extra shifts whenever she can."

  "How often?"

  "Once, sometimes twice a week. In fact, she shouldn't be here today, but one of the nurses wanted to attend her niece's wedding, so Sabrina agreed to cover."

  His head reeled from what he'd heard. No wonder she looked as if a strong wind would blow her into the next state. "I knew money was tight," he said hoarsely, "but I had no idea her finances were this bad."

  "You aren't going to get all high and mighty, are you?" she asked, frowning. "Because if you do, you can forget having picnics or anything else with her. The girl doesn't have much, but she's got plenty of pride."

  "More than enough," he agreed. But, pride or not, he knew his duty. It was time to take matters into his own hands and proceed with the rest of his plan.

  "What are you going to do?" Hilary asked. "She has this aversion to accepting charity."

  "There's more than one way to take a temperature, but it's best you don't know the details. That way, if
she questions you, you can honestly tell her you don't know anything."

  "Oh, good idea."

  "Rest assured, her circumstances will improve."

  Hilary's grin slowly grew to spread across her entire face. "This I can't wait to see."

  "And you won't breathe a word about this to anyone?"

  "Not one word," she agreed, "but I never would have guessed I'd run into Santa Claus in August."

  Santa Claus he wasn't. Writing a check wouldn't come close to putting him in the same league as the jolly, benevolent fellow but it would serve as the first installment toward paying for his sins.

  * * *

  "It was a good idea to come here this evening." Sabrina sat on the blanket under the shade of the tree Adrian had chosen and stared at Jeremy, who was sitting contentedly between Adrian's spread legs, apparently fascinated by the hem of Adrian's khaki shorts.

  "It was Jeremy's, not mine," he said.

  If he wanted to give their son the credit, that was his prerogative. She was too relaxed to argue. "I don't care whose idea it was, it was a good one."

  "I'm not so sure," he admitted, wiping the beads of perspiration off his forehead. "It's still over ninety degrees. We should either be lounging in a pool or sitting in air-conditioned comfort."

  "We don't mind the heat, do we, sprout?" She leaned over and smoothed down Jeremy's wispy hair, eliciting a toothy grin. "This way, we have the park to ourselves. Right now, a pool would be too crowded for us to enjoy."

  "Not true," he protested. "And the view would be great. You always did look fantastic in a swimsuit."

  Her face warmed under his hungry gaze, as much a result of his compliment as her own heated thoughts. She hadn't forgotten their last trip to a pool even though it seemed like a lifetime ago. Adrian's knee-length trunks had covered a fair amount of skin, but the black Spandex had outlined well-defined quadriceps and a trim gluteus maximus to mouth-drooling, take-a-second-look perfection.

  "That was before I had a baby," she said lightly, before she felt his perusal.

  "Every pound you gained must have been Junior here, because it looks as if you've lost weight."