Abby Gaines

The Diaper Diaries


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of his lack of interest in her work floored Bethany…and, amazingly, made her want to laugh. Which she was not about to do: she took her work seriously, even if he didn’t. She compressed her lips, picked up her bag. “Olivia asked me to bring this. I assume there’s a patient you want me to look at?”

      “In my office.” He held the door open for her.

      Tyler figured it was the oddness of Bethany’s skirt that drew his attention to the neat round of her bottom as he followed her into his office. That, and the same kick of awareness that had surprised him at their last encounter.

      He couldn’t think why he found her so intriguing. Yes, that polished-cherry-wood hair waved nicely around her heartshaped face. But her nose was too pointy, all the easier for her to look down it at him, and her mouth a trifle wide for that stubborn chin. She was pretty, but Tyler dated beauties.

      He was still puzzling over his attraction to her when she stopped; he almost bumped into her. She’d seen the baby.

      “Oh, you gorgeous little thing.” She sounded awed, breathless, as she dropped to her knees on the carpet. “Hello, precious,” she crooned. The baby’s face split in an enormous smile, and Bethany laughed out loud.

      Humor widened her mouth to even more generous proportions and revealed a dimple in her chin. All trace of obstinacy vanished, and she was much more the peach Olivia had suggested. A cute-but-not-his-type peach. Women who went gaga over babies usually had him hightailing it out the door.

      She looked up at Tyler, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Who’s this?”

      He shifted on his feet. Now that he had to explain, he realized just how weird this was. “Someone left it downstairs for me.”

      “It?” Her eyebrows drew together, and the effect in combination with that skirt was of a disapproving pixie.

      “Uh…her?” Damn, he should have had Olivia check.

      Bethany unsnapped the terry garment. She hooked the front of the baby’s diaper with one finger and peered inside. “Him,” she corrected as she refastened the snaps. “What do you mean, someone left him?”

      Tyler handed her the note. Watched curiosity turn to shock to alarm, all telegraphed across her face. She stared at him, mouth slightly open, apparently dumbfounded.

      “This woman…” She groped for words. “This child’s mother thinks you would make a good parent?”

      As if her intimate knowledge of children’s kidneys put her in a position to judge him. “I’m one of Atlanta’s favorite sons—and its most generous.”

      Bethany sat back on her heels. “You hadn’t even figured out he’s a boy.”

      “I believe in equal-opportunity parenting. Gender is irrelevant.”

      She pffed. “You need to call social services.”

      “My lawyer says I don’t.” He was glad he’d clarified the legality of the situation in the forty-five minutes that he’d waited for Bethany. “The mother’s letter effectively appoints me the baby’s guardian. According to my attorney, that may not carry weight long term, and I’ll need to meet with social services. But if they’re satisfied he’s well looked after and that efforts are being made to find the mother—which I’ll hire a private investigator to do…”

      Bethany leaned over to scoop up the baby, then scrambled to her feet. As she hoisted the infant to her shoulder in a casual, practiced movement, Tyler caught a glimpse of slim, winterpale midriff where her T-shirt pulled away from her skirt.

      “You mean, you plan to keep him?” she said. “What about your incredibly busy schedule? Babies take time and attention.”

      “I’ll organize a sitter.”

      “You can’t tell me you care about this baby.” She sounded suspicious and she was doing that looking-down-her-nose thing, one of his least favorite memories from the first time they’d met.

      “I care about families, about children.” What the heck, he might as well try out some of the lines he planned to use in media interviews. “Children are our future.”

      “Wonderful,” she said brightly—to the baby. “Your new guardian is a graduate of the Whitney Houston School of Philosophy.” She looked at Tyler and her eyes sparked, not with the tenderness she’d directed at the baby, but with something more…electric.

      Tyler’s senses stirred in response to that spark, and he struggled to keep his mouth from curving, his wits from deserting him to go frolic with his imagination in a place that involved him and Bethany and not much clothing. Definitely not that skirt. “Are you saying children aren’t our future?” he asked with spurious confusion.

      She shifted her hold on the baby, and the movement emphasized the high, full curve of her breasts. “You made it plain you’re not interested in my kidney patients, so why should I believe you have any real concern for this child?”

      But he hadn’t invited her here to examine his motives. All he needed was for her to check the baby over and leave. Then he could get Operation Family Man under way. Still, he couldn’t resist saying, “You’re carrying a grudge because I didn’t give you all the money you wanted, and it’s clouding your judgment. You need to admit that was your own fault.”

      Bethany’s face heated. So much for Tyler being either amnesiac or love-struck to the point of forgetting her humiliation. Yes, she’d brought it on herself…but he hadn’t helped. She’d been sucked in by his charm—the charm she’d been too naive to realize was hardwired into him and freely dispensed to every female he came across—and in the misguided belief she’d already won him over, she’d wandered away from the scientific facts to support her case and detoured into anecdote.

      Halfway through her pitch, she’d realized she’d lost Tyler’s attention. He’d still been giving her that encouraging smile, but he’d glanced at his watch a half-dozen times, yawned more than once. She’d scrambled to get back onto the solid ground of medical fact, lost track, dropped her notes and been too nervous to take a break and sort them out. She’d garbled her way through, and just as she hit the crux of her case, Tyler—

      “You winked at me!” she accused.

      “I did not.” He widened his eyes, as if to prove there was no winking going on. At the same time, his brows lowered in a puzzled frown that hinted she was being irrational.

      “When I pitched to your committee.” The baby hiccuped and she rubbed his back in a circular motion. “You sat there not listening to a word I said and then you winked.”

      “That’s why you’re so touchy? Because I winked?” Tyler ignored the way Bethany stiffened at being called touchy. “I could see you felt awkward and I guessed it was because of that thing between us…”

      “What thing?” she demanded.

      “That…awareness, that—” he flung a hand wide to encompass the full spectrum of sexual attraction “—edge. It’s here again, right now, even when you’re mad at me.”

      Her face was blank. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

      Tyler snorted. No way was this all on his side. There’d been a real and definite connection between them and it hadn’t abated. He was used to women finding him attractive and, less often, to experiencing a mutual chemistry. If the situation wasn’t appropriate, he could shrug it off and get on with the job. But he could see Bethany inhabited a less sophisticated planet than the women he dated. That big doctor brain of hers was probably a handicap when it came to something as simple as sexual attraction.

      “You winked,” she said again, a note of revelation creeping into the words.

      Being an egghead was no excuse for not understanding the basics. “I told you,” he said impatiently, “I did it because you—”

      “While