Two Doctors and A Baby. Brenda Harlen

top, then saw her name in the “patient name” box. “What is this?”

      “You did get that MD behind your name from medical school, didn’t you?”

      “Okay, I guess what I should have asked is ‘why is this?’”

      “New Year’s Eve.”

      His brows lifted.

      She huffed out a breath. “I should have figured you’d make me spell it out. We didn’t just have sex, Garrett. We had unprotected sex.”

      Justin nodded soberly. While he had no objections to casual sex, he was never careless about protection. Not since that one time when he was a teenager. That one time—one forgotten condom and one terrifying pregnancy false alarm—had been enough to scare the bejesus out of him and make him swear that he would never be caught unprepared again.

      And he never had—until he’d found himself in a hospital supply closet with Avery. Then everything had happened so fast, and his desperate need for her had overridden everything else.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, because although the words were grossly inadequate they were also true.

      “Obviously neither of us was thinking clearly that night or what happened between us never would have happened,” she said.

      He wondered how it was that—despite all the other thoughts screaming in his head—he could be amused by such a prim remark delivered in her characteristically cool tone. Wanting to shake some of that cool, he stepped closer to her.

      “We had sex, Avery. Incredible...mind-blowing...ground-shaking sex.”

      “I was there,” she acknowledged, her gaze remaining fixed on the ceramic tile floor. “I know what happened.”

      He tipped her chin up. “So why can’t you say it?”

      She jerked her head away. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I used to take pride in the fact that I was one of probably only a handful of women on staff at the hospital who had not slept with Dr. Romeo—and I can’t say that anymore.”

      He’d grown accustomed to the nickname so that it didn’t bother him anymore. Not that he would acknowledge, anyway. “Honey, I haven’t slept with that many women who work there.”

      “I don’t care,” she insisted. “Or I wouldn’t care, except that now I’m one of them.”

      “It’s not as if I’ve been walking around wearing a sign—I Melted Dr. Wall-ice.”

      She glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”

      “I agree,” he said. “Nor is it anything to be ashamed of. We’re two unattached, consenting adults who gave in to a mutual and compelling attraction.”

      “We had unprotected sex.”

      He nodded. “My bad. I’m not in the habit of carrying condoms in my scrub shirt,” he said, attempting a casualness he did not feel. “But that still doesn’t explain—” he held up the lab report “—this.”

      “I wanted to reassure you that there’s no reason for you to worry—” she bit down on her lower lip “—on my side, I mean.”

      “But you’re worried about mine,” he realized.

      He couldn’t blame her for being concerned. He was well aware of his reputation around the hospital—and well aware that it had been greatly exaggerated. That knowledge had never bothered him before, but now, seeing Avery’s misery and distress, he wished he’d clarified a few things. Or a lot of things.

      Of course, it was too late now. She’d obviously made up her mind about him and nothing he said was going to change it. He put the lab report back into the envelope and returned it to her. “Most of the other women I’ve been with just want to cuddle after sex.”

      “Most of the other women are why I’d like some quid pro quo.”

      He nodded. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”