Authors: EMILIE ROSE
“Are you pregnant?”
She gasped at his blunt question. “I don't know yet.”
“When will you know?”
“Soon, I hope. I've never been the regular type. Stress tends to throw off my cycle.”
“If you areâ”
“I won't be.” Her quick denial made it clear she didn't want to discuss the possibility.
“If you are, what will you do?”
She bit her lip, ducked her head and busied herself by reaching into the cabinet for a bowl. Her hands shook as she ladled out the stew, very precisely covered it with plastic wrap then put it into the microwave and turned on the machine.
“Madison.”
“I don't know, Adam.”
“Ignoring a problem won't make it go away.”
“I'm not ignoring anything. I just refuse to panic unless there's a need.”
“Will you panic if you are?”
Her throat moved visibly, and the pulse at the baseâthe one he'd laved with his tongueâfluttered wildly. “A baby would...complicate things.”
His gaze dropped to her flat stomach. Andrew's words echoed in his head. “You don't want children?”
“I never said that. I'm trying to be practical. The timing is wrong. Child care is expensive. Money is tight. I barter animal care for what I can't afford, but I wouldn't be willing to let just anyone look after a child in trade for services rendered.”
“You wouldn't be so tight for money if you joined a larger city practice and put your training to better use.”
“We've been through that. Quincey needs me.”
He wasn't going to change her mind about that tonight. “If you are pregnant you could move back here.”
“No!”
“I'll help financially wherever you end up.”
“If I am, it's not your problem.”
“I'm equally responsible.” He paused. “Would you have it?”
She closed her eyes tightly. Seconds ticked past. Her hands shifted toward her navel, then she yanked them back to her sides. Her lids lifted. “I don't know.”
“If it turns out that you're pregnant, I want to know and I want to be part of the decision making.”
“IâI'll let you know.”
What would he do if she was and decided to keep the baby? They lived too far apart for him to be a decent father. Would he have to leave the hospital he'd worked so hard to improve in order to spend time with their child? To do that he'd have to leave his parents.
When he'd first started at Mercy he'd considered it a temporary stop, a rung on the ladder to a larger, more prestigious hospital. He'd planned to get his mother past her emotional meltdown, then move on. But he'd become invested in the hospital's people, in Mercy's growth and continued improvement. Instead of limitations, he now saw potential, and he no longer wanted to move up and out.
He wiped a hand across his face. A child with his brother's wife. How could he have been so careless? He'd never been a slave to his desires before. Why now? Why Madison? What about her turned him irresponsible?
How would his mother handle Madison having his child? He shook his head. For once he wanted to borrow Madison's philosophy and not anticipate trouble. If it happened, he'd deal with his mother.
The microwave beeped, making them both jump. She fetched the bowl and a spoon and put both on the bar in front of him. “Did the nurses strike?”
He let her change the subject. He'd said his piece and he was too drained to press the point. “No.”
Residual anger from the past week's events made his jaw so rigid it was hard to eat. He shoved a bite into his mouth anyway.
“And...? That's all you're going to give me?”
He chewed, gulped, washed down the food with the glass of iced tea she'd provided. If she insisted on talking, then the nursing issue was a safer topic than the awareness of her he couldn't shake.
“We're an excellent hospital. Voted one of the best in the state for the past two years. But one malicious person with a chip on her shoulder created an atmosphere of discontent that contaminated others around her. It took time to make the rest of the staff see past her poison. But we did it and averted the strike.”
The positive outcome was the only reason he wasn't pounding out his frustration with the weights in his gym now the way he had every other night for the past few weeks.
“Did
you,
personally, stop the strike?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I hear pride in your tone.”
Perceptive, wasn't she? He lowered his spoon. “I was part of a team.”
Her head tilted as she assessed him and her dark hair glided across her shoulder, making him recall the feel of the silky strands slipping across his skin.
“Andrew never would've shared the credit.”
Another unpalatable truth. “No. He wouldn't have.”
He shoveled in another mouthful and chewed while reviewing the facts as he knew them. “You seemed happy with Andrew. Did I misread the situation on my visits home?”
“I was happy.”
The slight emphasis on
was
combined with the flatness of her voice indicated otherwise. “Was...?”
“He's gone. I'm not. I'll see you in the morning.”
“Stop running, Madison.”
She paused but didn't turn. Her fists clenched by her side. “I. Am. Not. Running. Stop accusing me of that.”
“Then why are you so eager to escape this conversation?” And why was he trying to detain her? Letting her go would be better for both of them. He was in a weird mood tonight, tense, his nerves and thoughts tangled, similar to the way he'd been after the flight. Probably due to lack of sleep. But he wanted company. Madison's company. He needed to understand what had happened six years ago, and the only way to get answers was to dig.
She slowly faced him. “I'm not versed in awkward âafter' encounters.”
That couldn't mean what he thought it did, could it? But the flush on her cheeks said more than words. Andrew had bragged that Madison had been a virgin when they'd met and how he'd been the one to teach her everything. As much as Adam wished he could forget that long-ago conversation, it played in his brain like annoying elevator music.
“You haven't been with anyone since Andrew?”
The pink deepened into red. “I didn't say that.”
“You're an attractive woman. You could have any man you wanted. Why wouldn't you satisfy a basic human need like desire?”
She looked flustered by his compliment. “Because I didn't want to feel cheap.”
That stung. “Do you feel cheap now?”
She bit her lip and flipped back her hair, feigning a nonchalance her troubled eyes refuted. “No. IâI...”
“You what, Madison?”
“I don't feel cheap, Adam, but I do...regret what happened.”
The blend of vulnerability and latent hunger in her eyes tugged at him. “You didn't answer my previous question. Have you had a relationship since Andrew?”
She stiffened to rigid attention. “That is none of your business.”
No. It wasn't. But the need to know was as compelling as the need to take his next breath. “There's nothing wrong with moving on after a decent amount of time, Madison.”
“That's what I hear.”
But not what she believed.
He searched her face, noting the shadows in her eyes. His father had been right. She'd been grieving when she left them six years ago. Was she still mourning her loss?
“Do you still think of him when you close your eyes?”
“Sometimes.”
Revulsion rose in his throat. Despite her denial, had he been a substitute for his twin?
“Not in the way you mean,” she added hastily.
“Then how?”
“I'm a goal-oriented person. I had my future mapped out. Then it all changed. I was so naive. I never saw it coming.”
He could understand that. Andrew's death had shocked them all. But her plans weren't the only ones that had been derailed. If she'd stayed he wouldn't have had to move back to keep an eye on his parents. And if he hadn't, where would he be now? Would he have continued his climb to larger hospitals and more responsibility in an effort to impress his father? Would he have become as ambitious as his father? Would he have ever found a facility that provided the satisfaction Mercy did?
“Did you ever consider sticking with your plan to join Dad's practice?”
“I lay in that hospital bed alone mourning the death of my child and then my husband. Not once did any of you come to check on me or to update me on Andrew's condition. That proved to me that the only tie I had with your family was Andrew. With him gone I didn't belong, and after the confrontation with your mother, coming back was not an option.”
It shamed him to admit he'd never once thought of visiting her. He'd been too wrapped up in watching his brother slip away.
“You didn't visit Andrew, either.”
“I was hemorrhaging and they wouldn't let me move. No one offered to wheel my bed down to ICU. I didn't know that was an option, so I didn't ask. By the time the doctors gave the okay for me to get in a wheelchair, Andrew was gone.”
“I'm sorry. You should've been allowed to say your goodbyes.”
She glanced away, her fingers picking at the hem of her robe. “Yeah. Adam, your mother and I have worked out a truce. If she ever finds out what we did... It won't matter to me because I'll be gone. But youâ”
“She won't find out. Stop beating yourself up. If not for the fact that you're my brother's wife, there'd be nothing wrong with what we did.”
“I haven't been Andrew's for a long time.”
No. She hadn't. Technically.
The need to make her understand that her desires were normal and moving on was okay swelled within him. He rose and moved toward her even though a smart man would have kept the counter between them.
She backed quickly. “Stop right there. This chemistry between us is...strong but wrong. We both know that complicating an already bad situation isn't a good idea.”
He stopped close enough to touch her. Only sheer willpower prevented him from reaching out to test the warmth of her soft cheek. “What happened to your marriage?”
Panic flashed across her face. “The past is over and rehashing it won't change anything. Let it go. It's late. We have to be up in four hours. I'll see you in the morning.” She bolted from the kitchen.
Running. She might deny it, but she did it.
He locked his knees, determined to be wise enough not to follow her. Everything she'd said, everything she'd done to this point, raised questions for which he
needed
answers. The more time he spent with Madison the more he wondered if he'd known his twin at all.
He would find out the truth about Madison and Andrew's marriage. But not tonight.
* * *
A
DAM
'
S
TELEPHONE
RANG
Friday afternoon, shattering his concentration. He realized he'd been staring blindly at the budget report, lost in thoughts of Madison. Again. Trying to figure her out had occupied too much of his mind lately. He snatched up the phone on his desk. “Adam Drake.”
“Hey, Adam. Pete Lang.”
Adrenaline kicked through Adam's veins when the accident investigator identified himself.
Finally. Answers.
“I wanted to let you know the accident looks pretty straightforward to me. Dark, deserted road. Black ice. According to the officer's report your sister-in-law admitted she and your brother were arguing at the time, so throw distraction into the mix. For what it's worth, your brother's blood alcohol level was double the legal limit, but your sis-in-law had none on board.”
“She was pregnant.”
“Trust me, buddy, that's no deterrent to some people. Looks like a tragic accident to me.”
Disappointed and simultaneously relieved, Adam sank back into his seat. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing yet. I have to admit something about this case is nagging me. Can't put my finger on it, but it doesn't feel right, and I learned a long time ago to trust my gut. In my opinion, given her slow speed, the wreck should've been survivable with property damage only. Let me think on it and get back to you.”
“Thanks, Pete. I look forward to your full report.”
So he'd learned nothing to derail his desire for Madison. But he was known on the job for his persistence. He wasn't giving up.
* * *
S
ATURDAY
MORNING
M
ADISON
stared at her office wall, thumped her pen on the file in front of her and tried not to think of Adam or the way they'd tap-danced around each other Monday and Tuesday. The sexual tension between them had been so strong she'd nearly choked on it. But they'd managed to act wisely and keep their physical distance by staying at his parents' Monday evening until they were too exhausted to keep their eyes open and then heading to the airport directly from Danny's office Tuesday.
She pressed a hand to her crampy stomach. She wasn't pregnant. Her period had started Wednesday morning. And even though she should have called or texted Adam to let him know, she hadn't. How did you break that kind of news?
“Congratulations. You're not going to be a father!”
“Whew, we escaped that one!”
“I'm not knocked up.”
Nothing she'd come up with had sounded right. But it wasn't only the awkward wording that had kept her from contacting himâit was the hollow ache of disappointment that had blindsided her. The list of reasons why having a child now was a bad idea was extensive. Logically, she knew that. But emotionally, the emptiness was very real. And very scary. Surely she hadn't wanted the complication of a baby?
She scanned her immaculate office and her bare, save the file in her hand, desk. Even with her abbreviated hours, every appointment slot wasn't filled. She spent a lot of time cleaning or reading research articles and waiting for her next patient to arrive, because she couldn't sit still without thoughts of Adam taking over her brain. Her every-other-Saturday hours were no exception.