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She tore her gaze away. “I am sorry about our date.”

“We’ll reschedule,” he promised.

She wanted to, because she enjoyed being with him—so much more than she knew was smart. It was crazy how quickly and completely he’d infiltrated her life, how much she looked forward to seeing him every day, and how much she missed him when she didn’t.

Being with him was exciting and scary, because her feelings for him were already so much stronger than she’d ever intended. He had this uncanny ability to know when she needed him—even if she wouldn’t admit it. And the more time she spent with him, the more she was in danger of not just relying on him but falling in love with him. Despite her earlier promise to herself not to give him her heart, she was afraid that she’d already done so.

“What are we doing here?” she asked softly.

“Sharing ice cream.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean at this particular moment.”

“What did you mean?”

“I’m just wondering why we’re going through the motions.”

He scooped up another spoonful of ice cream. “Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“We had sex and I got pregnant and now we’re trying to turn that into a relationship, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I know you’re accustomed to having a life plan,” he acknowledged. “But not everything can be scheduled and organized according to your timetable. Sometimes you just have to let things happen and be willing to deal with the consequences.”

“Isn’t our baby proof that I’m doing that?”

He tightened his arm around her. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“Said what?”

“
Our
baby.”

She frowned. “I say it all the time.”

He shook his head. “You say ‘the baby’—you don’t usually acknowledge that we’re both responsible for the life growing inside of you.”

“Maybe I was subconsciously trying to absolve you of responsibility.”

“I don’t think it was subconscious at all.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “When I first suspected that I might be pregnant, I was certain you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the baby—
our
baby.”

“And now you know you were wrong?” he prompted.

“Now I’m starting to believe I was wrong,” she acknowledged.

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her close. “Then we’re making progress.”

Chapter Thirteen

T
he next day, Avery was carrying her lunch tray into the atrium when she spotted Callie. She hadn’t seen the nurse in several weeks and started automatically toward the long table where she was seated with several other nurses. As Avery drew nearer, their conversation faded away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “I just wondered how Camryn and Brad are doing with their new baby.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Callie said, speaking loudly enough to ensure that she could be heard by everyone at the table. “Nothing more than the usual hospital gossip, anyway.”

Heather shot her a venomous look as she picked up her tray and left the table. A couple other nurses commented that they were due back at their stations and followed suit.

“I guess the talk was about me,” Avery said, which didn’t really surprise her.

Anyone who had seen her with Justin would be able to tell that the relationship between them had changed. And people were watching, because Dr. Romeo had always been the subject of much scrutiny and speculation around the hospital. People liked to talk about who he was dating and guess how long a relationship would last. Some of the nurses ran a pool—anything outside of two weeks was always considered a long shot—and bonus points were awarded to anyone who correctly identified the lucky woman chosen as his next companion.

No one would have guessed that he would pick Avery, and she could tell that they were as baffled as they were envious that he was with her now. Of course, only she and Justin knew the truth—that they were only together because she was pregnant with his child.

She hated that people assumed she was sleeping with him—which was both ridiculous and hypocritical, because while she wasn’t actually sleeping with him now, she had been naked with him. She had no right or reason to be upset that they were judging her for the truth.

The worst part, though, was that her body had apparently not gotten the memo from her brain that what had happened between them that night was not going to happen again. Every time he touched her or kissed her, her hormones started clamoring for more.

“Heather’s all bent out of shape because she saw you and Dr. Garrett in the lounge together last night,” Callie explained, gesturing for her to sit down.

“And?” Avery prompted, setting her tray on the table.

The nurse shrugged. “She said he was—” she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers “—consoling you.”

“I almost lost a patient last night,” she explained. “Dr. Garrett could tell I was upset, and we sat and talked for a while.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Callie assured her. “Everyone thinks the two of you would be great together. Well, almost everyone. Not that
everyone
is talking about you,” she hastened to explain. “Because that would be completely unprofessional and inappropriate.”

Avery managed a smile. “Well, thanks for the heads-up about the gossip that’s not gossip.”

The nurse smiled back. “Anytime.”

“And your nephew?” she prompted.

“He’s fabulous.” Callie opened the camera app on her phone. “Let me show you some pictures.”

* * *

Friday night, Avery was in Atlanta and Justin was alone at home, contemplating his dinner options. Because he didn’t have neatly labeled containers in his freezer, those options were pizza and Chinese, both of which he could have delivered to his door.

He opted for a large pizza that would fulfill his requirements for dinner tonight and lunch the following the day. He’d just hung up the phone after placing his order when the buzzer sounded from downstairs.

He knew it couldn’t be his pizza delivery already, and a quick glance at the lobby display made him frown. He picked up the phone again, answering the summons.

“It’s Ryder Wallace—Avery’s brother.”

Justin figured the man would show up somewhere, and he was grateful he hadn’t tracked him down at the hospital. Of course, it was probably out of deference to his sister that he’d avoided a showdown in that arena. No doubt she’d told him that she didn’t want anyone at work to know about her pregnancy yet—or the identity of her baby’s father at all.

“Come on up,” he said, releasing the lock on the downstairs door.

He’d never met Avery’s brother, but he’d seen him on TV. The guy seemed taller in person—about Justin’s own height, but broader. His shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and the muscles in his arms confirmed that his job required him to wield tools much heavier than a scalpel or stethoscope. Not that he felt intimidated, exactly, but Ryder’s grim expression was hardly reassuring.

“Are you going to invite me to come in?” he asked, when Justin continued to block the door.

“It depends,” he said. “Are you planning to hit me?”

Ryder shrugged his broad shoulders. “I thought we’d try talking first.”

“Talking works for me,” Justin said, stepping back so Avery’s brother could enter. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a beer.”

He pulled a couple of bottles of his favorite microbrew from the fridge, twisted off the caps and handed one to the other man.

Ryder glanced at the label, then lifted the bottle to his lips and sipped cautiously. “Not bad,” he decided.

“Thanks, but I’m guessing you didn’t come over here to critique my beer selection.”

“I didn’t,” he confirmed. “I’m here because Avery told me about the baby.”

“I suspected as much,” Justin said.

“My sister’s a smart woman,” Ryder noted. “She likes to gather facts and evidence before she decides on a course of action. She’s never careless or impulsive, so you can imagine how surprised I was when she told me that she was pregnant.”

“Me, too,” he admitted.

“I don’t know what your relationship is, and Avery would say it’s none of my business—”

“I disagree,” he interjected. “She’s your sister and the child she’s carrying is your niece or nephew. It’s understandable that you’d be concerned.”

“I am concerned,” Ryder said. “She thinks she’s prepared to do this on her own—from everything she’s said to me, she’s determined to do this on her own—but a child should have two parents.”

“Our child will have two parents,” Justin assured him.

“I’d be more convinced of that if you were planning to marry her.”

“I am.”

Ryder frowned. “Well, that was a lot easier than I expected.”

“Easy?” Justin laughed. “It doesn’t matter that you and I are in agreement. Try convincing your sister—
that’s
the hard part.”

“You’ve talked to her about this?”

He nodded. “And she said she wants to get married someday—but not to me.”

Ryder winced. “Sorry.”

Justin shrugged. “I understand some of her reservations.”

“If you met our parents, you’d understand a lot more.”

“Maybe you could fill in some of the details for me,” he suggested.

Ryder tipped the bottle to his lips again, considering what—or maybe how much—to say. “For starters, they got married in May and Avery was born in November the same year—and she wasn’t a preemie.”

“So they got married because your mother was pregnant,” Justin acknowledged. “That’s hardly an unusual situation.”

“You’re right. But the unplanned pregnancy forced them to detour from their plans. Whenever either of us would make the mistake of asking if they could attend a school activity or sporting event, Mom would remind us that she had to work to make up for the time she lost giving birth.”

“And your dad?” Justin prompted.

“He always said he would try to be there,” Ryder admitted. “Which made it even harder when he never showed up.”

“It sounds like you had lousy parents,” Justin said. “But there are plenty of couples who manage to have successful careers and happy families.”

“Sure,” the other man agreed. “But a doctor doesn’t punch a clock—people’s lives depend on them being available.”

“But not every minute of every day,” he countered. “And I think that both Avery and I have been doing this long enough that we’ve found some necessary balance.”

“Until a baby throws the scale out of whack.”

“I’m confident that we can figure it out together.”

Ryder tipped his bottle to his lips again. “You’re not at all what I expected when Avery told me about you.”

“What did you expect?” he asked curiously.

“I expected to want to hit you,” Ryder admitted. “But now, I actually think you could be good for her.”

“If I can convince your sister to give me a chance.”

“If you’ve got another beer, I might be persuaded to share some insights.”

“I’ve got more beer
and
pizza coming.”

Ryder grinned. “Now I’m really glad I stopped by.”

* * *

Avery had decided to attend the Spring Conference in Atlanta because the trip would also give her the opportunity to see both of her parents. Not that she expected either of them to adjust their own schedules to accommodate hers—and her mother did not disappoint in that regard.

When Avery called to set up a time for Saturday, Cristina advised that she had a lunch meeting with a pharmaceutical rep at one o’clock, and then she was presenting a research paper on new vaccines that were in development for sexually transmitted diseases at four. She offered to squeeze out some time for Avery in between these commitments.

At two-thirty, Avery was seated at the hotel bar, waiting. Her stomach was tangled in knots and her hands were clammy because, despite the fact that she was thirty-two years old, apparently she was still reluctant to disappoint her mother.

The knots in her stomach tightened when her mother walked into the bar. Cristina air-kissed Avery’s cheek before sliding onto the vacant stool beside her daughter.

“G&T, extra lime,” Cristina told the bartender.

“I’ll have the same,” Avery said. “Hold the G.”

Her mother frowned. “That’s just tonic.”

“With lime.”

“You said you wanted to meet for a drink,” she said, her tone disapproving of the fact that her expectations had not been met.

Avery was all too familiar with that tone. “No,
I
said I wanted to meet for dinner,” she reminded her mother. “
You
said you didn’t have time for dinner but we could do drinks.”

“Tonic water isn’t a drink.”

“Well, gin isn’t good for the baby,” she said bluntly, unable to endure any more of her mother’s nitpicking.

“The—” Cristina’s mouth dropped open. “You’re pregnant?”

Avery nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“How far along?”

“Ten weeks.”

Cristina immediately lifted the glass the bartender set down in front of her and took a healthy swig. “It’s not too late, then.”

“Too late for what?” she asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. But she pushed the uneasiness away, because there was no way her mother was saying what she thought she was saying.

“To terminate the pregnancy.”

The blunt statement felt like a physical blow, but Avery lifted her own glass and sipped. Her throat was tight and her eyes burned, but she refused to give in to her emotions—refused to give Cristina that ammunition to use against her.

“I don’t want to terminate the pregnancy,” she said, pleased that her voice was clear and calm.

“You can’t honestly think that it’s a good idea to have a baby at this point in your life.”

“I didn’t plan to get pregnant,” she acknowledged. “But I want this baby.”

“Because you have no idea how demanding a child can be—especially an infant,” Cristina warned. “And you’re not married, so you won’t have any support system to help you through the long nights and other difficult times.”

“I know there will be challenges, but Justin and I will figure it out,” she said, with more conviction than she felt.