The Doctor's Secret Baby. Teresa SouthwickЧитать онлайн книгу.
and needs classes in birth control.”
With their baby in her arms, she glared at him. “People who live in glass houses…”
“Okay.” His expression turned wry. “Point taken.”
“You weren’t very nice to Lucy. I never knew you to be deliberately rude.”
“I never had a child who treated me like I had cooties and preferred a stranger,” he defended.
“Lucy isn’t a stranger to Annie.”
“She is to me.”
“That’s childish.”
“But honest,” he snapped.
“Unlike me.”
“You said it, not me.”
A guilty conscience needs no accuser. “Look, Cal, that’s just the way it is. You can take it out on everyone or deal with the situation. Continue to punish me, or get to know your daughter. What’s it going to be?”
“She’s my child. And it’s time she got to know me.”
“Good.”
He settled his hands on lean hips, a gunfighter’s stance. “And you’re going to help me.”
“What does that mean?” she asked warily.
“You’re going to be around while Annie and I get acquainted.”
He was right. She couldn’t just dump the baby on him because it would be too traumatic for them both. Emily realized that she should have seen this coming, but the truth was she hadn’t. When she got the message that he’d never commit, the silver lining was not having to see him and hurt like crazy because he didn’t want her the same way she’d wanted him. Ironically what broke them up was also the same thing that forced them back together.
Annie.
Emily knew what it felt like to be vulnerable and alone. Unlike FOB, she didn’t plan to do that again and figured to pick and choose the people she let close to her. She’d never expected one of those people to be Cal. Again she reminded herself that he wouldn’t be there for her. It was all about his child.
Gosh, wasn’t it going to be fun hanging out with the guy who made breaking hearts an Olympic event?
Sitting in the sporty BMW he’d nicknamed Princess, Cal saw Emily’s practical little compact come around the corner and pull into the apartment building parking area. He was across the street in front of a vacant lot and got out of his car, looking both ways to make sure there was no traffic. Ending up in his own E.R. because of stupidity would be the ultimate in humiliation, and his partners in the emergency trauma practice would show no mercy, even though he had a good excuse for being preoccupied.
As he walked toward Emily, he watched her open the rear passenger door, unbuckle Annie and lift her out. Then she went to the trunk and popped it, pulling out a plastic grocery bag. The closer he got, the more bags he could see. It never occurred to him that two girls could eat so much.
“Hi,” he said.
She whirled around, clutching the child to her chest. “Good Lord, you startled me.”
“I thought you saw me.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m parked across the street.”
“Why?” Her dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Are you stalking me?”
He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Do you always go immediately to the bad place?”
“Normally, no,” she said, without conviction. “But what we have here isn’t a normal situation.”
“What we have here probably happens more than you think,” he said.
“Not in my world.” She loosened her hold on Annie who was sucking on her index and middle fingers, staring at him with distrust in every cherubic curve of her face.
“Does your world still include hospital social work?”
“Yes. In addition to running Helping Hands, I freelance at most of the valley’s hospitals. Not having to keep a nine-to-five schedule makes it easier to spend more time with Annie.”
Occasionally a patient in the E.R. needed social services to facilitate health-care programs, hospice care or off-site treatment options. He’d met her after seeing a child with leukemia and no insurance. Em was called in to counsel the parents on available treatment and financial plans to help pay for as much as possible. He’d been anxious to turn that case over to someone else when Emily Summers had walked into the room.
One look at that face—specifically that mouth—and he’d wanted to turn himself over to her. And he had, until she’d walked out on him for no apparent reason. The fact that they were going to be parents had never entered his mind.
“So were you working today?” he casually asked. “And where does Annie stay when you can’t be with her?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long this time.”
“This time?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“I stopped by earlier and talked to Lucy’s roommate, Patty. She was just on her way out to a class and told me when you’d be home.”
“Hmm.” With a couple of grocery bags on one arm and Annie in the other, Em shifted the baby’s weight.
Cal was pleased that she looked like a healthy kid. Yesterday after seeing her he realized there were a million questions he should have asked. How was the birth? Any complications? Who’s her pediatrician? He could get her in with the best one in the valley.
But none of those things had come out of his mouth because he’d been too stunned that Emily told him the truth. This time he’d brought a swab and planned to get a sample for the DNA test. Skepticism had been his new best friend since the woman he’d married had lied about being pregnant so they could be together. Translation—to trap him. His first mistake was not leaving when her lie was exposed because the longer they were together, the bigger the lies got.
Last night he’d pulled out old photo albums and pored over family pictures, studying the ones of himself at Annie’s age. She looked just like him. There was little doubt in his mind that she was his daughter, but because of his past, proof was required.
As he watched Emily struggle with grocery bags and the baby, it finally sank in that she could use some help. His parents hadn’t raised their boys to do nothing while a woman struggled.
“Let me help you,” he said, taking the bags.
“Take Annie.” She thrust the little girl into his arms. “I’ll grab a couple bags and unlock the door.”
Instantly the child started to cry and hold out her chubby arms to her mother. Em was already hurrying to her front door, key in hand.
“Annie’s crying,” he called after her. “Do something.”
“It’s good for her lungs,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re a doctor. You should know that.”
He did know that, when the child in question wasn’t his and crying actual tears. “Okay, kid. Let’s do this.”
He grabbed as many bags as he could carry and not compromise his hold on the little girl in his arms. Fortunately Em’s apartment was right around the corner from the parking lot and he followed her into the open front door. It was cool inside, a welcome relief from the July heat. The kitchen was just off the living room where Emily was half buried in the refrigerator hurriedly putting away cold and frozen food.
“What should I do with her?” he shouted over the pitiful cries that hurt his ears and his heart simultaneously.
She looked at him. “Put