Teresa Southwick

Expecting The Doctor's Baby


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only wanted to keep you company.”

      “And I was looking at this as an opportunity to meet strangers.”

      “Problems become opportunities when the right people join together,” he said, quoting the words on her wall.

      “Exactly,” she agreed.

      “How about for tonight we call a truce? You won’t ask if I’ve been playing well with others and I won’t hit you up to be my coach.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

      She looked at it, hesitating.

      “What?” he asked, meeting her gaze.

      “I’m just trying to find the asterisk in that statement.”

      He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

      “You know, the asterisk. Have you ever noticed that everything has an asterisk—an exception to the rule? Fine print. Excluded under the warranty. Discount applies only when a pregnant ape swings across the freeway at exactly 12:01. Life is an asterisk and one always needs to tread carefully lest they rear up and bite one in the backside.”

      “I’m shocked and appalled,” he said.

      “Oh?”

      “Who knew the poster girl for optimism, voted most likely to be positive, bright and cheery, had such a cynical side.”

      “Go figure.”

      Her shrug did amazing things to the bare shoulder that was driving him completely nuts.

      “All I’m saying is that we agree not to talk shop,” he clarified.

      “Okay.”

      But before they could talk about anything, the public address system emitted static and then Arnold Ryan was introduced. Since their backs were to the dais, Sam turned her chair around to see. Mitch did the same and managed to get his close enough to brush her arm. The contact left a trail of silver glitter on the black sleeve of his jacket and he thought how characteristic of her to leave a glow on everything she touched.

      “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Arnie greeted the crowd. “Thank you all for coming. We’re gathered here for a cause near and dear to my heart.”

      That’s when it hit Mitch that he’d been pressed into service because of being in the doghouse and hadn’t bothered to get any details.

      He leaned over to Sam and whispered, “Does he actually have a heart?”

      She turned to look at him and their lips were inches apart. Her eyes widened a fraction before she said, “Of course he does.”

      “What is he talking about?”

      “Did you bother to read your invitation?” she asked.

      “No.”

      She shook her head in exasperation, but the corners of her mouth curved up as if she would expect this from him. “My father is kicking off a fund-raising drive for the Catherine Mary Ryan Cancer Center. Colon cancer killed my mother and he wants to fund a diagnosis-and-treatment facility dedicated to her memory.”

      “The valley certainly needs one.” The dim light underscored the shadows in her eyes and he recalled her saying she’d been raised with Ryan’s children. “How old were you when your mother died?”

      “Six.”

      His father died because his cop instincts made him intervene in a convenience store robbery. Mitch knew how it felt to lose a parent at a young age, but he’d had his mother. And Robbie for a while. Senseless death made him angry. The guilt and pain that haunted him twisted together and knotted in his gut.

      “Mitch?”

      He blinked, clearing away visions of the past and focused on Sam. “That must have been tough. Losing your mom so young.”

      She nodded. “But every cloud has a silver lining and tonight is all about that. Making something good come out of tragedy.”

      In his opinion the two were mutually exclusive, but he wouldn’t tell her that because the sparkle was back in her eyes. He wouldn’t live up to her low expectations and say anything to snuff it out.

      “That’s the spirit, Sunshine.”

      Before she could respond to that, the room erupted in applause because her father had completed his remarks. Sam stood to turn her chair around and he took care of that like the chivalrous guy he was. When they sat again, he noticed the waitstaff was distributing dessert and coffee while a group of musicians set up behind the lectern at the front of the room.

      “Looks like there’s going to be dancing,” he commented.

      “On the invitation it was clearly stated that the evening included cocktail hour, dinner and dancing.”

      “I like surprises.”

      “See. Even boring clouds have a silver lining.”

      “Maybe. But only if you’ll take a turn with me on the dance floor.” He was sure she’d turn him down and was already marshaling his arguments.

      “I’d love to,” she said.

      Strains of a slow song drifted to them and he stood, holding out his hand to her. She slid her fingers into his palm and when she rose, the muted light caught the sequins in her dress and the glitter on her skin.

      Speaking of surprises…He’d get to hold the silver lining in his arms.

      The wooden floor in the center of the room filled with other couples and Mitch placed Sam’s hand in the crook of his arm as he led her there. He held his breath, anticipating the pleasure of her closeness. Then he pulled her into his arms and found the softness of her pressed against him more intoxicating than his Jack Daniel’s.

      He looked down at her. “I was sure you’d tell me to take a hike.”

      “I love to dance.”

      “So I could be any jerk off the street and you’d have agreed?”

      Her alluring mouth curved up when she smiled. “I believe we established that my jerk quota has been filled recently. So, I’d have to say no.”

      “Then I’m not on your jerk list?”

      “I don’t think that about you. Quite the opposite.”

      He found her completely charming and was grateful to be on her good side. “What’s the opposite of a jerk?”

      “You’re a guy who saves lives. In my book that makes you a—”

      “Here you are, Samantha,” said a voice behind them.

      Sam leaned to the side. Even with heels she wasn’t tall enough to see over his shoulder. “Hi, Dad.”

      Mitch turned and deliberately left his arm around Sam’s waist. “Ryan.”

      “Dr. Tenney. How nice of you to join us this evening.” His tone said he wasn’t actually feeling the love.

      “You throw a great party,” Mitch answered politely, if only to prove to Sam that he could be polite.

      “Thank you. The turnout is very gratifying.” He looked at Sam. “My remarks were well received.”

      “Absolutely,” she answered, tensing.

      They’d been too busy talking to listen to the speech. In his opinion Arnold Ryan was a pompous ass who gave his daughter a hard time for no good reason. Mitch tightened his hand on her waist, hoping she felt his support.

      “So, Doctor, how are things in the E.R.?” Ryan asked.

      Mitch shrugged. “Funny you should ask. Sam was just singing my praises.”

      “Samantha is easily impressed,” he said, with a sardonic look at his daughter.

      “No,”