Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc

by Louisa Heaton

  How would Logan be with her today? She’d dropped an awful lot of information on him yesterday and now he’d had time to sleep on it. Had he changed his mind? Got cold feet? She felt ridiculous, doubting him when he’d said he’d be there for her, but she couldn’t help it. And as she got closer to the hospital she found herself mentally preparing for him to have backed away—because that was what she was used to.

  ‘Morning, Ellie!’ other staff members called out, and she said hello back.

  ‘You look tired. Late night?’ one asked.

  ‘Something like that...’ she said.

  Logan wasn’t in the staff room, and she sat waiting for the team of doctors and nurses on the night shift to arrive and do the hand-over. When they did Logan still hadn’t appeared. She tried to push it from her mind, telling herself it didn’t mean anything. He might just be delayed in traffic or something. But it was typical that the one person she wanted to see and speak to the most wasn’t here.

  She made notes on her hand-over sheet and when it was over got up to do her rounds on the patients. To check in, check observations and familiarise herself with everyone’s cases.

  But it was difficult. Everything she did was overshadowed by worry about the health of the baby inside her womb. About whether Logan was going to bolt. He’d left her once before—he could easily do it again.

  Her nausea was coming in waves—much more than she’d ever had with Samuel—and she wondered if it meant that her baby was a girl rather than another boy. She’d heard someone say that the sickness could be different depending on the sex of the baby. It was probably rubbish, though. An old wives’ tale.

  In her peripheral vision she saw a man walk by and she looked up.

  It wasn’t him. It was someone else.

  ‘Looking for someone?’

  It was Sarah, one of the nurses. Ellie hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room.

  ‘Dr Riley.’

  ‘I heard he was in surgery. Some emergency...’

  ‘Right. Okay. I’ll catch him when he comes out.’

  Ellie felt ridiculous. What had she been expecting? For him to come rushing in first thing to find her? To ask her how she felt today? To place his hand on her abdomen and say Hello, baby? It wasn’t as if they were together. They weren’t a couple.

  This was just so confusing! She’d loved him madly when she was younger and he had walked away to pursue his career, breaking her heart. She had mourned this man, hoping that one day he would come back into her life. And now he had, and they had slept together, and now she was pregnant with his baby.

  How was she supposed to feel about him? Had her feelings for him ever stopped? But she wasn’t eighteen any more. She wasn’t a lovesick teenager any more. She’d moved on. So had he.

  And yet...

  Maybe it was pregnancy hormones playing tricks with her mind. Was she really still seeking that happy-ever-after she’d dreamed of for both of them so many years ago? Logan cared for her. Was being so sensitive. He clearly still had feelings for her, and that was making her feel they might have a chance at a happy future.

  But perhaps she was being stupid, hoping for a happy-ever-after, because he hadn’t said outright that he wanted to be with her romantically, and she had no idea if this pregnancy would produce a healthy child at the end of it. If she even made it that far, of course.

  And, despite what he’d promised, would she ever feel she could truly trust his word? He’d told her once before that he loved her. That she was his world. And then he’d gone to Edinburgh and within months he had ended it. He’d discarded her like a pair of shoes that no longer fitted.

  She’d thought back then that he had loved her, but clearly she’d been wrong. Could she trust her instincts where Logan was concerned? He’d found it so easy to walk away from her. He’d never looked back. Never written. Never called. He’d made a clean break and that had been it. Surely if she’d meant anything to him there would have been something?

  Ellie washed her hands at the sink, slowly and thoroughly. Taking her time before she had to assess the next baby. As she did so she told herself firmly that she had to remind herself that just because he’d said he would be there for her it did not mean they would be romantically involved. She was pregnant and this was serious. The two of them had to work together to get through this. But it would be co-parenting. That was all.

  No point in trying to muddle through romantic feelings, too.

  * * *

  Logan had woken late to find Rachel already downstairs, getting anxious that life wasn’t running to schedule. He’d had to handle one major blow-up, then get her to school, and then he’d got caught in traffic. By the time he got to work he felt hassled and stressed.

  Last night had given him so much to take in. He knew about bilateral renal agenesis, but he’d found himself researching it on the internet, trying to discover if there was any risk for the new baby that Ellie was carrying.

  Poor Ellie, having gone through that alone. What fortitude she must have! Such strength!

  He’d never expected this. Not now. Once, maybe. He’d thought they’d always be together—until the realities of being so far away from each other and for so long had made him set her free. It hadn’t been easy. His studies had suffered terribly afterwards as he’d fought the pain of her loss.

  He’d got through it by telling himself he had done the sensible thing, but now...?

  Now he wasn’t sure.

  He’d wanted her. He could admit that. The moment after the accident when he’d held her again, had lain with her in his arms, had been a dream come true.

  Ellie.

  His feelings for her were so confusing! He’d never really stopped loving her. Sleeping with her, holding her, loving her again so freely had simply made their situation worse.

  He’d needed her. They’d both been in an accident which, had it been any worse, might have claimed their lives. It had almost been like a wake-up call. He’d been going through life on auto-pilot. Working. Being Dad. But when had he last been himself?

  The real him, Logan Riley, had craved her, had needed the comfort he had known he would find in her arms, and it had been frantic and magical and oh, so amazing! Yes, the guilt had kicked in afterwards—but was that true guilt or just selfishness?

  Ellie had given him everything he’d needed and he had soaked it up like a sponge, hungry for more. Perhaps it was that hunger for more that had made him feel so confused? Because if he asked for more wasn’t he putting himself at risk of loving again? Losing again? Letting her down by not being good enough?

  Getting involved with Ellie could mean losing her. Losing their baby. Was he strong enough for that?

  Logan sat at his desk and pondered the situation. If this baby was all right—if it even got past the first trimester—then they would be starting a family together. Another family that would tilt his world on its axis.

  And how on earth would he cope with that? Just being in the hospital now made him feel that he wanted to go search her out, ask her how she was feeling. Pull her close. Hold her tight. Protect her.

  He wanted to make sure she was looking after herself. Dammit. Stupidly, he even felt as if he wanted to lay his hand on her belly!

  They’d had one uncontrollable, passionate, amazing moment in which they had both probably lost their minds, but they could be sensible now and make sure that would never happen again. It couldn’t. Not until they knew what was happening.

  So now he felt as if they were circling each other, testing the water, trying to decide how they should proceed.

  Would they ever work that out?

  Because he didn’t want a future of treading on eggshells.

  * * *

  When it was the end of the day they left together and stood awkwardly by the lift, waiting for it to take them down.

  ‘Did you hav
e a good day today?’ he asked.

  She noticed as he glanced at her that his gaze dropped to her belly for a brief millisecond, before he coloured and looked away again, stabbing at the lift button in the hope of making it arrive quicker.

  ‘It was good, yes. The lady we saw in A&E the other day came up. They stopped her contractions, but she came for a tour of The Nest anyway.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good! The longer babies stay inside, the better.’

  He smiled, then looked awkward, obviously considering the situation between them. So much was being unsaid. There was so much they both wanted and needed to say, but they were holding back from one another.

  It hadn’t been awkward like this between them before. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Because she didn’t need him being uncomfortable around her. She needed to know that she could talk to him. That they could talk to each other. After all, they were in this together.

  ‘Logan. Are you having second thoughts about this?’

  He quickly turned to look at her, an appalled look upon his face. ‘No!’

  ‘Good. Because we need to feel that we’re able to be in the same space with each other without it being awkward. If we can’t communicate, then how is this going to work?’

  The lift pinged its arrival and when the doors slid open there were already three other people inside, so the opportunity for Logan to answer was not there.

  They got in and rode the lift in silence.

  Ellie could feel tears pricking at her eyes—which wasn’t fair, because she felt as if she was being the strong one here, and yet she was going to cry, and everyone assumed that a crying woman was somehow weak. She looked away from everyone, trying to take deep breaths, trying to control her racing thoughts, until the doors pinged open once again and everyone got out.

  Logan grabbed her arm and drew her to one side. ‘We can talk to one another.’

  ‘You’ve avoided me all day.’

  ‘I’ve been in back-to-back surgeries.’

  ‘Couldn’t I have been in them with you? You’re meant to be my teacher, and all day I’ve done nothing but record observations and change nappies. I want an education as well.’

  Logan looked suitably mortified. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that—even though you’ve been on my mind all day. I want to care for you, but I don’t know how to be with you. What am I? Just your mentor? Some guy who might have to co-parent with you? It feels like more than that. I want more than that. And yet...’

  She could hear the yearning in his voice. ‘You’re all those things and more. We need to find a way to make this work. I’ve been left on my own too many times!’

  ‘I know. And I’m sorry.’ He reached to stroke her hair and then stopped himself.

  She wiped away a tear. ‘I won’t break.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m worried about.’

  ‘What are you worried about?’

  Logan looked uncomfortable. He shuffled his feet, looking around them at all the milling staff and visitors, the odd patient wheeling an IV so they could go outside and smoke. He knew he had to get these words out, because they were killing him inside.

  ‘I’m worried that if I allow myself to love you I could lose you. I could lose the baby, too. And I’m worried that if I start touching you I won’t ever want to stop.’

  She stared at him, her breath caught in her throat.

  * * *

  The words had just come out. One minute he was staring at her, his heart breaking because he’d upset her, and the next he was telling her he might not be able to stop himself from touching her!

  What on earth was going on in his brain?

  He made to walk away, his cheeks flushed red, angry with himself for saying such stupid things, for stepping over the line.

  She called his name.

  ‘Logan!’

  He turned.

  ‘Come to dinner tonight. Just you and me. We need to spend some time alone. Time outside of work, somewhere we won’t get interrupted or distracted. Please?’

  He could see she meant it sincerely. It was in her eyes. The desire for him to say yes. Perhaps it was a good idea? Though he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to find someone to sit with Rachel. Sometimes Mrs Bennett his next-door neighbour could, but it was late notice.

  ‘Err... I could try to get a sitter...’

  ‘I could make my Ellie special?’

  He smiled, remembering. ‘Spaghetti? I’ll be there.’

  She touched his arm. ‘Thank you.’

  It was just a brief touch. A short acknowledgement to show that she understood the hoops he jumped through on a daily basis. A touch to let him know just how much she’d heard him just now.

  ‘What’s your address?’

  She told him and he noted it down in his mobile.

  ‘Can you be there for around six?’

  He nodded and then pulled her close. Embraced her in a warm bear hug. He knew it wasn’t easy for her either, and that she was putting herself out on a line here. He needed her to know that he knew that.

  He’d been right. He didn’t want to let go of her now he’d touched her, but he knew he had to and so he stepped back awkwardly, nodded and began to walk away. He was getting as far away as possible from her as he could—because if he stayed any longer he might do something stupid...like kiss her.

  And she wouldn’t want that.

  Would she?

  * * *

  At a quarter to six her doorbell rang and Ellie almost jumped out of her skin. She’d been checking her reflection in the mirror, wondering if the outfit she’d put on was too...date-ish.

  She wanted to feel relaxed. Comfortable in her own home. But this was an important night for her and Logan, and for some reason she felt like she wanted to look beautiful. How often did she get to dress up and go out? Never, was the answer. There’d been nothing like that since Samuel.

  But in the back of her wardrobe had been this lovely midnight-blue wraparound dress, which felt comfortable around her middle and didn’t show off too much cleavage. She’d spent twenty minutes debating whether to wear flats or heels and had then decided on bare feet—so that had meant another ten minutes of painting her toenails and waiting for them to dry.

  She’d washed her hair and straightened it, put on a full face of make-up that was designed to make her look ‘natural’ and then dithered a bit longer on whether dangly earrings were called for or not?

  This is crazy. We’re just going to be chatting. He’ll probably turn up in jeans!

  She told herself it wouldn’t matter if he did. Because she felt like dressing up a bit and why not?

  She opened the door with a big smile and butterflies in her belly. ‘Logan! Hi, do come on in.’

  Logan held a bunch of flowers in his hand and he passed them to her, dropping a peck on her cheek. ‘You look lovely.’

  She tried not to think about taking his face in her hands and kissing him properly. That wasn’t what the evening was about, even if that was her urge.

  ‘These flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I’ll put them in a vase in a moment. Why don’t we go straight through to the kitchen? I need to get the pasta on.’

  Logan closed the front door and she smiled to herself as she headed into the kitchen—because he hadn’t turned up in jeans. Logan was smartly dressed too. Dark trousers...white shirt slightly open at the collar. He was freshly shaved but had forgone cologne, knowing that it might upset her newly heightened senses.

  Putting the flowers to one side, she washed her hands and added dried pasta to the already bubbling water. The kitchen smelled of garlic, the garlic bread having been in the oven on low for a couple of minutes already.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Whatever you’re having is fine by me,’ answered Logan.

  She grabbed
the flowers again and put them in the sink, then made the drinks and gave the pasta a stir, so it didn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. She put a low heat under the pasta sauce.

  ‘This won’t be long. Then we could maybe eat in the lounge? There’s a small table in there.’

  Logan nodded. ‘Please tell me you’ve expanded your repertoire and don’t eat pasta every night?’

  She smiled. ‘I can boil an egg now, too.’ There was an awkward pause when she didn’t know what to say. Then, ‘Quick tour?’

  ‘Lead the way.’

  Ellie showed him the lounge, then the bathroom, the spare bedroom, and then she hesitated at Samuel’s door. She felt her mouth go dry. She’d never shown anyone this room. Not since he’d died.

  ‘This was going to be Samuel’s room.’ She pushed open the door and stepped in so that he could follow her.

  She saw him look around. Noticed him take in the still flat-packed crib leaning sadly against one of the two unpainted walls.

  He glanced at her and then walked over to the windowsill, picked up the blue teddy bear that she’d hoped to take with her to the hospital on the day of his birth and put in his bassinet.

  It had never made it there.

  She’d never felt embarrassed at having left his room this way. It had simply paused in its purpose, the way she had in her life, and it had seemed wrong to take anything away.

  Would Logan think she was terribly sad for having left it this way?

  ‘How long ago were you...?’ He looked down at her belly.

  ‘It’s been four years.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Will this be the new baby’s room?’

  ‘Yes. It was always meant to be a nursery.’

  He laid the teddy bear back upon the windowsill. ‘Perhaps I could help you get it ready? I quite enjoy painting, and I’ve always enjoyed the puzzle of a flat-pack project.’

  He smiled at her and she felt her heart thud loudly in her chest. He wasn’t pitying her! Or blaming her for keeping this room as a...a shrine. Although that wasn’t the right word, was it?