One Night with the Doctor (8 page)

“If she wasn’t a colleague, I’d have been tempted to blow off the party,” he said quite seriously. “Having you there with me made it bearable. Barely.”

“Don’t give me that.” Poppy stepped aside while he opened the car door for her. “You knew everyone. There were any number of women who’d have been happy to keep you from being bored.”

With great gentleness, his hand brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. “I’m with the only woman I want to be with tonight.”

Her heart stuttered despite her efforts to be unaffected. Smooth. She’d give him that. The guy was smooth.

Ben leaned forward as if to kiss her but she turned her face and slid into the car. The last time they’d been together she’d given in to a desire for this smooth talking doctor and where had it gotten her?

Knocked up.

Ben closed the door firmly then in seconds was behind the wheel. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“You could have eaten at the party,” she pointed out.

“Too loud.” He slanted a sideways glance. “What’s your excuse?”

“Too loud works for me.” Her retort made him laugh.

Poppy didn’t think she could eat if someone force-fed her. A thousand butterflies had invaded her stomach. Should she give him the news now?
No,
she told herself,
not while he’s driving.

Though she planned to tell him tonight, Poppy hadn’t thought where the discussion would take place.

Somewhere private,
she thought,
yet public. Somewhere I can easily leave if he gets too upset.

“How does stopping at Perfect Pizza sound?” she asked.

Her apartment was only a short walk from the popular eatery in downtown Jackson.

“Sounds good.” Ben turned onto the highway.

“How’s Groucho?” Poppy hoped a little more casual conversation would still her nerves.

Ben’s quicksilver grin told her all was well with the schnauzer. “He loves this warm weather.”

Poppy kept the conversation focused on the dog until they reached the eatery. It was busy, but not too busy for them to snag a booth in the back corner of the dining room.

“Being with you tonight has been...nice.” Ben leaned back and studied her. “I’ve missed you, Poppy. We had one amazing night, then nothing.”

“We had a deal,” she said simply.

He reached across the tabletop and took her hand. “Yet, here we are.”

When his thumb caressed her palm, Poppy couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she stammered.

Before she could continue, a teenage boy still in the throes of a war on acne brought out the half pepperoni, half vegetarian pizza. Though Poppy’s nausea was mostly confined to morning hours, greasy foods could still surprise her. When they’d ordered, going vegetarian had seemed a sensible choice.

When Ben placed a slice on her plate, simply smelling it caused bile to rise in her throat. She took several deep breaths.

“What’s wrong, Poppy?” His brows furrowed in concern. “You haven’t been yourself this evening.”

“How would you know what I’m like?” Poppy blurted out. “We’re strangers.”

“I think we’re more than strangers.” Though confusion filled his eyes, his tone was teasing. “I don’t know too many strangers I’ve seen naked.”

Poppy couldn’t even muster a smile. “If I knew you better, I’d know the best way to tell you what I need to tell you.”

She nearly groaned aloud.
Keep it simple,
she told herself.

Ben’s lips curved. He picked up a slice of pizza. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

Poppy took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Eight

T
he pizza slid from Ben’s fingers to his plate. “Pardon me.”

Poppy twisted the paper napkin in her lap, but kept her gaze focused on him. “I’m pregnant,” she repeated, as sweat trickled down her spine. “You’re the father.”

Two lines of concentration formed between Ben’s brows. Absently he picked up the pepperoni slice, took a bite then washed it down with soda.

Though she had more to say, Poppy waited. She’d had time to adjust to the fact they’d made a baby. Surely she could give Ben a second or two to mull it over in his head.

“I thought you couldn’t get pregnant,” he said at last.

“I was wrong.” The surge of joy at the realization seemed out of place so Poppy tamped down the emotion.

Ben steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “I assume you had the pregnancy confirmed.”

The extent of his control surprised her. She hadn’t expected such a rational response. Poppy toyed with her fork. “I took an at-home pregnancy test. Then I saw Travis.”

“Travis Fisher.”

She nodded again.

“What did he say?”

“The blood test and exam confirmed I’m pregnant.” Unconsciously one hand dropped to her flat belly. “The baby is due in November.”

Something flickered in the back of Ben’s eyes, something she couldn’t quite decipher. “Having your suspicions confirmed had to be a shock.”

Poppy gave a humorless chuckle, her fingers shredding the paper napkin in her hand. “You, Dr. Campbell, appear to be a master of understatement.”

He didn’t grin as she expected. Instead, his eyes remained grave. “I’m sorry you had to go to the appointment alone.”

Poppy widened her eyes, struck by the gentle kindness in his tone.

“I should have been there with you,” she heard him say.

“I didn’t know for sure I was pregnant,” she stammered. “Until it was confirmed, I didn’t want to say anything to you.”

“I understand.” He reached across the table and surprised Poppy by taking her hand.

The warmth of his touch was so comforting she couldn’t make herself pull away. “I thought you might be angry.”

“The condom slipped,” he reminded her. “I didn’t stop. If anyone should be angry it should be you.”

Dropping her eyes to the table, Poppy traced a figure eight on the top with the tip of a finger. “Things happen.”

“Now we decide where to go from here.”

Poppy jerked up her head. “I will continue this pregnancy.”

He looked as if she’d punched him in the gut. Still, when he spoke, his voice was even. “Had you considered terminating?”

“Never.” Poppy met his gaze. “I simply wanted you to know abortion isn’t an option. Neither is adoption.”

Ben released a ragged breath. “I’m glad.”

The tension gripping Poppy’s shoulders eased. Having him push for termination had been her biggest worry. She knew if he tried to shove that option down her throat, her respect for him would plummet.

“I’m fully capable of taking care of this baby on my own.” Her voice was steady now. “But I believe a child needs a father as well as a mother. I won’t stop you from being involved.”

“Stop me from being involved?” The words were cold as polished steel.

“That is, if you want to be involved.” She spoke quickly now. “I realize some men don’t care to—”

“I’m not some men,” Ben snapped, cutting her off. Then he paused. When he spoke again, his voice was once again steady and calm. “This is my child, too, Poppy. I want to be involved. I
will
be involved.”

“Oh.” She exhaled a ragged breath. “Okay. Good.”

He nudged her plate. “Eat.”

Poppy gazed down at the pizza, thought about arguing then cut off a piece with her fork and obediently raised it to her lips.

“Do you plan to keep working?”

She swallowed, picked up her glass of milk. “Yes. Of course.”

His gray eyes searched hers. “You can move in with me. Angela will ease much of your day-to-day load. And it will give us a—”

“Not an option.” Poppy’s voice rose and broke. The thought of being under his roof, under his
control,
had panic surging.

Though a muscle in his jaw twitched, Ben effortlessly changed the subject. “What concerned you the most about telling me?”

“I had no idea how you’d react.” Poppy embraced the new topic. “I thought you might deny the baby was yours. I want you to know I’m willing to do a paternity test after the baby is born.”

He frowned. “You told me you hadn’t been with anyone since your divorce.”

“I hadn’t,” she stuttered.

“Have you been with anyone since that night?”

“No,” Poppy said, appalled he could think she’d jump from his bed into another. But then she reminded herself they knew so little about each other.

“There’s no need for a paternity test.” Ben lifted his glass of soda. “Now, tell me why you’re so opposed to moving in with me.”

Poppy stifled a groan. She should have known he wouldn’t accept her refusal so easily. “Because I’m not interested in having a relationship with you.”

Ben gave a little laugh but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Too late. You and I are going to be parents, Poppy. That means we already have a relationship. For the rest of our child’s life, we’ll be connected.”

“I suppose,” Poppy grudgingly admitted.

“This pregnancy took us both by surprise,” he said, then waited until she nodded before continuing.

“I believe we owe it to ourselves to take the time to become better acquainted.” His tone turned persuasive. “For our sake. For the sake of our baby.”

A refusal had been poised on her lips but his obvious sincerity played straight to her heartstrings. Didn’t this child she carried,
their
child, deserve the best life possible? In her mind, that meant a mother and a father who worked together.

Ben sat back in his seat. He’d volleyed. The ball was now in her court.

It was a weighty ball. Though Ben had a lovely home, she’d be out of her element there. Everything would be his, including his rules.

It’d be the New York penthouse all over again
.

“I can’t live in your home.”

“It’s a good solution, Poppy. We need to get to know each other.”

“We can get to know each other without living together.”

“Can we?” He raised a brow. Though he appeared perfectly composed, a muscle in his jaw jumped. “We both work long hours. You told me you’re in bed by eight. If we’re not under the same roof, when would we connect?”

Poppy opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand.

“If we lived together, we’d at least see each other in the morning and at night.” His eyes searched hers. “I’ve heard you never really know someone until you live with them.”

She thought of Bill. Poppy had been adamant about not living with him before they married. If she had, she might have saved herself a whole lot of heartache.

Ben was her baby’s father. As her child grew older he—or she—would be spending time alone with him. She had no idea how Ben reacted when he was tired, frustrated or angry. And that certainly wasn’t anything she’d be able to discover on weekend “dates” when they’d both be on their best behavior.

Taking a deep breath, Poppy let it out slowly. The welfare of her child, she reminded herself, was all that mattered.

“I won’t move in with you, and I don’t want to get into some big discussion about my reasons. But you can move in with me,” she heard herself say. “My place isn’t big but there are two bedrooms.”

“Your place,” Ben repeated as if actually considering the possibility. After a moment, he nodded. “I’ll do it.”

Poppy jerked, almost knocking over her milk, reaching out with a shaky hand to steady the glass. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll move in with you,” he repeated. “Does your complex accept dogs?”

“What? Oh?” Of course, he’d want to bring Groucho. “I’m sorry. My landlord has a no pet rule. Firm.”

He puffed out his cheeks then nodded. “He’ll stay with my parents.”

Impressed despite herself, Poppy could only stare. It was as if Ben had days, weeks, to think this over and come up with a rational plan, instead of mere minutes.

“If it works for you, I’ll move in on Sunday.”

“Ah, sure,” Poppy stumbled over the words. “That’d be fine.”

Fine?
She resisted, but barely, the urge to fall into hysterical laughter. She was going to spend the next few months living with Ben Campbell.

Then what?

Nervously, she reached for the now shredded napkin then ran her tongue across suddenly dry lips. “You realize this living arrangement is only temporary.”

“By the time our baby is born,” he said with an easy smile, making no promises, “we’ll know each other better. Together, we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Poppy wanted to tell him she already knew where they’d go from there. He’d go back to his house and his world. She’d regain control of her apartment and her life.

Yes, they’d go back to the way things were before, except for the baby they’d share...for the rest of their lives.

* * *

When Ben had asked if he could bring his clothes over at noon, what could Poppy say but yes? Feeling the need for some spiritual solace, she rose early and headed to the church she’d attended as a child.

Though she knew everything was more casual than when she was growing up, Poppy couldn’t bring herself to wear jeans. Instead she pulled a bright blue summer dress from her closet along with a pair of strappy sandals.

To jazz up the outfit, she pulled back the hair on both sides of her face, clasping the strands in one of the glittering pins she’d worn during the torch singing competition.

Fussing over what to wear took longer than planned. By the time Poppy arrived at the small white clapboard church, the pews were almost full. Though Poppy was used to going solo, for some reason it bothered her that everyone seemed to have someone by their side. Everyone but her.

“And just how did you come by that hair clip, missy?”

Poppy whirled. Cassidy stood behind her, small blond spikes tipped with fuchsia jetting out from her head, a big grin on her shockingly bright red lips. The stylist wore jeans and boots with mile-high spiked heels and a sweater that matched the tips of her hair. Long, multicolored earrings dangled from her lobes.

“Was I supposed to give the clips back to you?” Poppy automatically stepped to the side while they talked.

“Just screwing with you.” Cassidy laughed.

“It’s going to be a full service.” Poppy’s gaze shifted to the almost full church. “Are you here with anyone?”

Cassidy shook her head.

“Me, either.” Poppy forced a bright smile. “We could sit together?”

“That’d be cool,” the stylist said in an equally casual tone.

They found a pew toward the back that had just enough room on the end for two and took a seat.

Poppy had just risen for the first hymn when a familiar voice sounded beside her.

“Do you have room for one more?”

When she turned, Poppy’s traitorous heart skipped a beat.

Dressed in dark pants and a gray shirt, Ben stood in the aisle, hair still damp from the shower and smelling terrific.

“Absolutely.” Cassidy spoke before Poppy could inform him the pew was full. “There’s always room for you, Dr. Campbell.”

The orthopedic surgeon flashed the hairstylist a devastating smile. “Please, call me Ben.”

When she heard Cassidy sigh, Poppy knew Ben had a fan for life. Poppy sighed for a different reason. When they sat down, she knew she’d practically be in Ben’s lap.

Since she and Cassidy were sharing the hymnal, Poppy held it midcenter, so Ben could see the words, too. As he leaned close she inhaled the clean fresh scent of him. Instead of lust, a curious type of longing rose up inside her. A wish that somehow he could be different, that she could be different.

Poppy knew the personalities of successful doctors, especially surgeons. It didn’t mean she lumped them all in one basket. That would be silly. But she knew the drive it took to succeed, as well as the ego.

She’d had a taste of that kind of man. That taste certainly hadn’t left her longing for more. But Ben was in her life, the father of her child. That couldn’t be changed.

The hymn ended much too soon. When Poppy sat, Ben’s thigh pressed tightly against hers. The only way they could be comfortable was for him to loop an arm around her shoulders, which brought a hum to her blood.

“I didn’t know you went to church here,” she whispered to him while a skinny woman with poufed hair read a verse from the Bible.

“I don’t come that often,” he said in an equally low tone. “But today, it felt necessary.”

Poppy tried to focus on the woman reading the verse. But all she could think was in a couple hours she and Ben would be under the same roof and both their lives would be thrown into turmoil.

Her entire apartment could fit into his master bedroom. They’d be on top of each other from day one. Unbidden, the image of the last time he’d been on top of her flashed before her.

Poppy slanted a sideways glance. His handsome face made her shiver. A woman exploring her spontaneous side could have some interesting times with such a man.

Especially if they were...on top of each other.