The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

“Hello, Mr. Luther. How’re you doing this morning?”

“You know as well as I do how I’m doing.”

She might but she wouldn’t let him get away with ignoring her. “Do you mind if we turn the TV down?”

“I do but I guess you’ll do it anyway.”

Zoe grinned as she found the remote and lowered the volume. She’d learned long ago that his bark was worse than his bite. “I need to give you a listen and have you sign a couple of forms so I have permission to look at your chart.”

“The others here have already listened to me today.”

“You know how this works by now. I have to do my own listening and looking at lab results if I’m going to help you get better. I’m your advocate. I don’t work for the hospital. I work for you. I’m here to help you.”

“Aw, go ahead. You will anyway.”

Zoe stepped to him. Pulling her stethoscope out of her pocket and placing the ends in her ears, she proceeded to listen to his heart. It sounded steady and strong, which pleased her. She then listened to his lungs and checked his pulse rate. Removing her small penlight from her lab coat pocket, she said, “I need to look in your eyes.”

“I was afraid of that.” Mr. Luther lifted his face to her.

She pointed the light in his eyes. What she found there she wasn’t as happy with. The whites still weren’t clear.

“Well? Will I be getting out of here soon?”

“That’s not for me to say. Your doctor here makes those decisions. But I will be in touch. If I don’t see you here next week, I’ll be calling you at home to check on you.” She didn’t have to keep such close tabs on him, but as far as she knew, there was no one else to do it. Zoe placed her hand on his shoulder. “Please do what they say, Mr. Luther.”

He grunted. “Always do.”

She looked back at him as she went out the door. He was going to need a liver transplant much sooner than the doctors had originally estimated.

As she traveled to different hospitals to check on other patients and completed paperwork in her office over the next few days, she continued to search for reasons not to see Gabe while he was in town. The longer she could put him off, the better. Dealing with him was the last thing she needed at this point in her emotionally and physically overloaded life.

Preparing for her baby’s birth, dealing with her mother’s rapidly deteriorating condition and now the urgent need to get Mr. Luther on the fast track for a liver transplant... If only Gabe would stop pressuring her to make decisions about her baby’s future, decisions that could wait until closer to the due date. If Gabe sincerely wanted to help her, maybe she could convince him to give her those precious three months before her baby was born to deal with her other problems by priority. Would he understand her genuine need for time and distance? Or would he be self-centered, accusing her of trying to push him out of the baby’s life?

* * *

On Saturday afternoon, her mother had gone to her room for a nap and Zoe was trying to get some much-needed rest on the sofa. The cold was taking its toll on her. She’d just closed her eyes when the phone rang. Anticipation zinged through her. Would it be Gabe?

“Hey,” he said when she answered, not giving his name. It wasn’t necessary. Zoe would have known his voice anywhere. “Have you changed your mind about going out to dinner?”

“No.” Even to her own ears she didn’t sound welcoming, yet blood whipped through her veins at the mere fact she was speaking to Gabe.

“You sound awful. What’s wrong?”

“I woke with a cold the other morning.”

“Are you taking care of it? Getting enough rest?” His concern somehow made her feel better. She liked knowing Gabe cared about her, even if it was just because of the baby.

“Yes. I’m just tired.”

“Then I’ll pick up dinner. Bring it to you. What’s your address?”

She gave it to him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour and a half. ’Bye.”

Knowing she was about to see Gabe again caused her stomach to flutter. Despite feeling bad, she still rushed around, putting her apartment in order in anticipation of his visit. Her life was already a tightrope and Gabe was tying complicated knots in it as well. With one more tiny twist she might snap.

Zoe finally settled on the sofa to wait for him. She hadn’t missed his poorly veiled threat about getting a lawyer involved if she didn’t talk to him. The nervous waves in her stomach crashed harder, despite him brushing off his threat with a dinner offer. He’d made it plain he didn’t want a wife and children the night they had been together. His declaration of lifelong bachelorhood over five months ago contradicted his current insistence on being involved with their child. How long would his sense of obligation last? Until “his” child started making demands on his time? Would he still be sharing parental duties when they started to interfere with his career? Maybe he didn’t mind being a father as much as he hated the thought of being a husband. If that was the case, she was left with the conclusion he would never marry her.

That hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did.

She had no doubt Gabe wouldn’t consider marriage as a practical solution to their situation. In the unlikely event he did, she would say no. Being wanted because she was the mother of his child wasn’t good enough. When she married it would be for love. Her hand went to her middle. Right now, her focus would be on the baby. She wasn’t going to let Gabe continue making immediate demands that would needlessly confuse her life further.

The door buzzer woke Zoe. Panic filled her. She’d had every intention of having time to apply some makeup and fix her hair before Gabe arrived. She stopped in front of a mirror on the way to the door and pushed at her hair, creating some order, before she checked the peephole, getting a distorted view of Gabe. Even then he looked amazing. Why couldn’t he be everything she didn’t want in a man?

Zoe unlocked and opened the door. Gabe had two large white bags in his hands and one small brown one. She’d never seen him casually dressed. The white-collared shirt he wore rolled up his forearms set off his dark hair and California tan. Jeans hugged his slim hips and loafers covered his feet. He could be a model for a men’s cologne ad. He took her breath away.

For seconds, they just looked at each other. He broke the silence. “May I come in?”

“Yes.” Zoe pushed the door wider.

Gabe entered, looked around, then headed toward the kitchen table, where he set the bags down. “You sit down and rest. I’ll get things on the table. Just tell me where they are.”

Zoe closed the door and followed more slowly. Her apartment went from small to tiny with Gabe in it. She needed to get a grip on her attraction to him or she would lose control of the situation.

Her mother joined them, looking from Gabe and back to her, perplexed.

Zoe put a reassuring hand on her mother’s arm. “Mom, I want you to meet a friend of mine, Gabe Marks.”

“Friend” might be stretching their actual relationship, but she didn’t want to explain more.

Gabe came around the table with a smile on his face. “Mrs. Avery, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her mother smiled. “Hello.”

“I brought you some dinner. I hope you’re hungry.” He pulled a chair out from under the table and held it for her.

“Thank you. I am.” Her smile broadened as she sat.

Zoe sank into a chair.

Gabe returned to the bags, continuing to remove cartons. “Zoe, I hate it, but I forgot drinks.”

How like him to take control and look comfortable doing it. “I have iced tea made.”

“Sounds great.” He looked at her mother and smiled. “That work for you too, Mrs. Avery?”

Her mother grinned, an endearing expression Zoe hadn’t seen in some time, and nodded to Gabe. The devil was charming her mother out of her fog.