One Night with the Doctor (13 page)

She shook her head ever so slightly and smiled at Anna. “Ben moved in with me last week.”

“You moved into
her
place?” Tripp’s tone was clearly disbelieving. “You said you were living together, but I thought, well, you have that beautiful new home in Willowbrook, so I assumed—”

“Assumptions are never a good idea, Randall.” Cole Lassiter grunted when his wife elbowed him in the side.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Tripp said, now flustered.

Before Poppy could respond, Ben’s lips lifted in a smile. “We like to keep it cozy.”

“Ah, that’s so sweet.” Betsy heaved a sigh.

“Good for you,” Meg added.

“Now, when the baby comes—” Ben began, but that was as far as he got before both he and Poppy were peppered with questions followed by hearty congratulations.

Thankfully, the lights soon dimmed. The video presentation about the assortment of obstetrical equipment tonight’s event would fund began. Blessed silence fell over the table. Poppy felt the last of her tension slip away.

Tonight had gone far better than she’d envisioned. Ben had been an excellent companion, solicitous without being stifling. His arm rested against hers as he’d swiveled in his chair to better view the film.

She inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne. He caught her staring and smiled, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm before refocusing on the movie. The longing that rose inside her nearly swamped her with its intensity. How Poppy wished she could forget her reservations and embrace the possibilities of a full and rich relationship with Ben.

But emotion had led her into a marriage with a man who was all wrong for her. Though Ben wasn’t an arrogant jerk, he had a healthy ego and a strong personality.
Been there. Done that,
she thought.

Still, becoming friends with the man beside her was her priority. She had seven months to get to know Ben and for him to get to know her.

With a firm foundation built on mutual respect and trust, they’d figure out the best way to co-parent this child they’d created. Then they could both get on with their lives.

* * *

“That went well.” Ben dropped the car keys on the table inside the apartment’s door and collapsed on the sofa.

Poppy took a seat beside him and slipped off her shoes. During the evening the mile high heels, which had been super comfortable in the boutique, had morphed into instruments of torture. She massaged her arch. “Everyone took the news about the baby in stride.”

“Lots of congratulations,” he agreed.

Poppy slanted a sideways glance. “I thought we might run across your parents.”

“Bob and Linda, their friends in Idaho City, are celebrating one of those milestone anniversaries.” Unexpectedly he pulled her feet into his lap.

“Hey,” she protested. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He gently stretched the foot up and down while the other hand cupped and supported the heel. “I’m giving you a foot massage.”

Sitting on the sofa with Ben felt oddly intimate, especially with his large, skillful hands working their magic.

For a fraction of a second Poppy considered calling a halt, but then he squeezed her foot with both of his hands and the feelings of absolute pleasure wouldn’t allow her to act so foolishly.

“You have fabulous hands.” Her body shuddered.

“I believe you mentioned that several times the night we spent together,” he said with a wicked smile.

“I have a vague recollection of that,” she said, stifling a moan when his thumbs stroked the bottom of her foot.

“After I finish, I could give you a repeat demonstration of how versatile these hands can be.”

“Very funny.”

“The offer remains on the table.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she murmured, then released a moan as he found the sweet spot, er, the grooves between the bones and tendons, and stroked with firm pressure.

“Tell me about your parents.”

For a second Poppy widened her eyes, not sure she’d heard correctly. “What do you want to know about them?”

“Start with your relationship with your mother. Are you close?”

“We’re very alike.” Poppy puffed out her cheeks then released the air. “That’s why my mom and I clash. Aimee has my father’s personality. I have to admit that sometimes I’m jealous of the easy relationship my mom has with my sister.”

His hand ran gently up her calf, leaving sparks of heat on the skin. “When I meet your mother, what will be my impression?”

“She’s a woman with strong opinions of right and wrong.” Concentrating on the question became increasingly difficult as he continued to stroke the bottom of her foot. “My mom has a loving heart but can be pigheaded. Though she likes to laugh and have fun, she’s mostly serious. Oh, and she refuses to go out of the house without being perfectly put together.”

“And you’re like her.”

“All but the pigheaded part,” she said and made him laugh.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

In the fervent hope of prolonging the massage, Poppy had planned to also tell him about her father and sister. But apparently he’d lost interest in her family.

Poppy rested her head against the back of the sofa. “Laundry. Some cleaning. What about you?”

“It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm.”

“That’s a weather forecast, not an answer.”

“I thought about picking up Groucho and having a picnic.”

“You and Groucho?”

He laughed, a deep heartfelt laugh. “You. Me. Groucho.”

“A picnic.” Poppy frowned. “Would I have to sit on the ground?”

Ben grinned then gave her foot a quick squeeze. “That’s up to you. But sometimes getting down and dirty can be a lot of fun.”

Chapter Fourteen

T
he instant Poppy opened her eyes the next morning, a scratchy pain in her right eye had her turning from the light. She didn’t need a doctor to tell her she’d scratched her cornea. Again.

She grabbed the lubricating eye drops from the bedside and bathed her sore eye in the comforting liquid. The contact lenses would remain in the case for today.

Great. Just great.

Pushing back the covers, Poppy swung her feet over the side of the bed and, after grabbing a robe, padded barefoot into the kitchen. She saw the note on the table. After putting on her glasses, Poppy read it before she headed for the shower.

Her mother called before she reached the bathroom and a conversation Poppy thought would last five minutes ended up pushing twenty. Still, she was dressed and sipping a cup of decaffeinated herbal tea when she heard the key in the door. Seconds later, Groucho burst like a bullet into the room. His tail wagged wildly as he zigzagged, checking out the room.

Ben wore jeans, a long-sleeved cotton shirt and boots. It should be a crime for a man to look so sexy this early in the morning.

“Help yourself to coffee.” Poppy gestured toward the kitchen counter.

“Thanks.”

One word shouldn’t tell her anything. Especially one word said from someone she barely knew. But it did. “How were your parents?”

She felt rather than saw his shoulders stiffen.

“Fine,” he said.

While she knew Ben well enough to see something had upset him, she didn’t have a clue how to proceed. Should she wait for him to tell her what was troubling him? Or did he need encouragement to share?

Perhaps his confidences would come more easily if she did a little sharing of her own. Poppy walked to the tiny window that overlooked the parking lot. For several seconds she stood, letting the sun heat her face. “My mother called this morning.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn to face her, a ceramic mug filled with coffee in his hand. “How is she?”

Poppy turned. The smile on her lips wobbled. “Disappointed.”

His gray eyes sharpened. “You told her you were pregnant.”

A sip of tea bought her time. “She mentioned she and Dad wouldn’t be able to come to Jackson until the fall. That meant I wasn’t going to be able to tell them in person. If I had vacation time, I could go to Sacramento for a few days, but I don’t.”

He took a step closer then stopped. “She had to know how much you wanted a baby. How you thought you’d never have one.”

“That’s what I’d hoped.” To her horror, Poppy’s eyes filled with tears.

Before she could blink them back, Ben moved to her, drew her in with his free arm and held her. She let her head rest against the broad chest, drawing comfort from him.

When she’d regained her composure, Poppy lifted her head. “I guess we can’t always be the person our parents want us to be.”

His smile was rueful. “You can say that again.”

She stepped from his arms and studied him. “Your parents?”

“My dad.” Ben pressed his lips together, his eyes like ice. “He’s a traditional guy.”

Poppy gave a strangled laugh. “Which I’m guessing translates to, why aren’t you marrying the woman you knocked up?”

“That’s pretty much the gist of it,” he admitted. “Though he did make it clear he likes you very much.”

That made Poppy feel slightly less angry with John Campbell for making his son feel bad. “Did you tell him I wouldn’t marry you even if you asked?”

“I told him,” Ben began, then paused for emphasis, “it wasn’t any of his business.”

“I tried that on my mother.” Poppy gave a humorless chuckle. “Didn’t go over well.”

He took a gulp of coffee. “The day will get better.”

“I’m not so sure. I scratched my cornea. Now I have to wear these.” Poppy tapped her index finger on the rim.

“I like you in glasses,” Ben said.

At her grimace, an amused look replaced the somberness in his eyes.

Poppy almost felt better. Then she remembered the disappointment in her mother’s voice. The long silence after she’d learned no wedding was planned. She raked a frustrated hand through her hair. “I need air. I’m going for a walk.”

Groucho jumped to his feet and let out a single bark.

Poppy scooped up her house key, then paused. “What’s up with him?”

“He heard the ‘W’ word.”

“W?”

Ben smiled. “Walk.”

The dog leaped in the air, a high whine emanating from his throat. He resumed sitting when Ben motioned him down with a hand gesture.

“Groucho can come,” Poppy said.

“What about me?” Ben shot her the same engaging smile that had gotten under her guard on Valentine’s Day.

And just like that night, Poppy found the combination of confident charm with a hint of uncertainty impossible to resist.

Poppy lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was an “it doesn’t matter to me” gesture. “Up to you.”

His smile broadened and he reached for the leash.

* * *

Ben couldn’t recall what he and Poppy talked about on their walk to the National Elk Refuge, other than it had nothing to do with her mother or his dad. He was hyper-conscious of her, the way her green eyes sparkled behind the lenses of her pretty red glasses, how she reached down to affectionately pat Groucho and the way his body responded when his arm brushed against hers.

What they did speak about had little substance. Still, it was enough for Ben to realize Poppy Westover cared deeply about a great many things.

It would have been difficult for a woman with such emotional depth to discover she’d married a man who didn’t respect his marriage vows.

He’d been lucky Kristin had called it quits before they’d walked down the aisle. It had been a real kick in the gut when she’d married a fellow resident barely three months later.

While his attraction—and respect—for Poppy deepened every day, he wasn’t concerned about losing his head this time. He wouldn’t make the mistake of loving a woman without reservation again.

“I needed this,” he heard Poppy say.

He slanted a questioning glance in her direction.

She gestured toward the blue sky, clear but for a few wispy clouds. “This is what I needed to clear my head of the garbage.”

“I’m still angry with my father,” Ben admitted.

Poppy laid a hand gently on his arm and made an encouraging noise.

“I didn’t appreciate being dressed down like an errant schoolboy.”

“I bet not.” Poppy sighed. “I guess no matter how old we are, we’re still their little boy or little girl.”

“A frightening thought.”

She laughed. “I wonder if that’s how we’ll be with Jack or Jill.”

“Jack or Jill?”

“I get tired of calling him or her ‘the baby,’” she admitted. “I can’t wait until we know whether we’re having a boy or girl so we can start calling him or her by name.”

“Leroy,” he said. “And if it’s a girl, Mabel.”

Her eyes flew open. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to summon up a tactful response.

He shot her a wink. “Just kidding.”

Relief blanketed her face. “You came up with them so quickly, I worried you might be serious.”

“Those were the names of two of the dogs I had growing up.”

“Cute.”

“Not really.”

“Seriously, do you have any names that you particularly like? Or family names?”

Ben shook his head. “What about you?”

“I’d prefer to steer clear of the cutesy.”

He lifted a questioning brow.

“Such as Poppy.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what my mother was thinking.”

“I like your name. It’s different and it fits.”

“Thank you.” She heaved a sigh. “But cute is off the table.”

“So we’ve eliminated Leroy, Mabel and anything cute,” he said with a smile. “We’re well on our way to finding the perfect name for our child.”

Her lips pressed together. “That’s what I think irritated me most of all when I spoke with my mother.”

Ben opened the gate leading to the refuge and motioned her through.

“She seemed to have forgotten there is an innocent child at the heart of all of this,” Poppy continued. “A child I already love. A little boy or girl who’ll bring joy into my life. Into my parents’ lives, too. That’s what my mom should be focusing on, instead of how I disappointed her by getting pregnant without being married.”

“We should hook your mother up with my father.”

“They’d probably spend the whole time trying to figure out who was most to blame.”

Ben chuckled.

“I don’t know if I told you this before,” Poppy said as they wound their way down a dusty path. “I was fully prepared for you to want to have nothing to do with me when I told you I was pregnant.”

Irritation surged. For a second. “That just shows how little you knew me.”

“I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“And that’s why we’re now living under the same roof,” he reminded her. “To get to know each other.”

“Though I now see the value, you had to know I wasn’t keen on the idea.”

“I got that,” Ben said. “But why?”

“While I’m strongly attracted to you physically, you’re not the kind of man I could love.”

* * *

He wasn’t the kind of man she could ever love.

Ben slammed the tennis ball back across the net, his mouth set in a hard line, then shifted his stance as Tripp returned the serve.

They volleyed, playing hard as they were evenly matched. Finally a backhanded return that barely skimmed the net then whizzed past Tripp’s head only to drop just inside gave Ben the winning point.

They met at the net, sweat streaming down their face, then headed to the showers. By the time they were sitting on the outside terrace of the Country Club with a cold brew and a basket of munchies in the center of the table, Ben’s anger had dissipated and once again all he was left with was confusion.

He’d been on that roller coaster the past four days. Ben couldn’t believe she could so easily dismiss him as unsuitable.

“How’s apartment living?” Tripp asked.

Ben took a long pull from his bottle of beer. “There are worse things than being in close confines with a beautiful woman.”

“True.” Tripp grinned then sobered. “Everything okay?”

“What could be wrong?”

“You tell me.”

Ben simply stared.

“You about took my head off with several of those shots. Anna is tied up with a delivery so I have an excuse for not hurrying home. What’s yours?”

“I’m not married,” Ben snapped. “I don’t have to give Poppy an account of my whereabouts.”

Tripp’s eyes grew sharp and assessing. “I’ve known Poppy a long time.”

“So.”

“I knew her ex.” Tripp’s lip curled slightly. “Gayle and I used to go out with them about once a month. She was so in love with the guy it made her stupid.”

If anyone could understand loving too hard or too much, it’d be him. Empathy welled up inside Ben. “I’m not sure Poppy would be happy to hear you call her stupid.”

“I know for a fact she was hard on herself for believing his lies, for failing to see what was right in front of her all those years. But I have to say he was a slick one. Oozed charm.”

“She never suspected.” Ben said it as a statement, not a question.

Tripp shook his head. “Poppy is a trusting person. She just put that trust in the wrong man.”

“I remind her of him, I think.”

The hospital CEO gave a hoot of laughter. “You?” He shook his head. “You’re nothing like Bill.”

Ben gave a slight shrug and took a handful of the snack mixture, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“The whole experience made her gun-shy.” Tripp’s tone was matter-of-fact. “She no longer trusts her judgment.”

Before Ben could respond, Tripp changed the subject to the upcoming Taste of Jackson Hole event. While he listened to Tripp talk about the wine tasting expert who was coming this year, his mind considered Tripp’s assessment.

Could it be as simple as her being gun-shy? He knew the sexual attraction that sizzled between them wasn’t one-sided. She’d never have hopped into bed with him if she hadn’t been drawn to him.

How could she be so certain he wasn’t a man she could love? They got along. He’d found living with her to be surprisingly easy...and pleasurable.

In fact, he might be half in love with her already, but he refused to let himself fall too far. Theirs wouldn’t be a grand passion—he’d learned his lesson there—but the kind of love to build a strong marriage upon.

Though his father’s talk about marriage had irritated him, at his core, Ben was also a traditional guy.

Marriage made sense. The way he saw it, if he and Poppy could like each other, they could eventually love each other. If they married, they could raise their child together. No joint custody. No weekend visitation.

Of course, that was a lot of ifs. But the possibility intrigued him. When Ben had decided he wanted to make medicine his career and follow in the footsteps of his grandfather and dad, he’d devoted himself to his studies and to the extracurricular activities that looked good on a med school application. He was used to setting objectives and achieving his goals.

All he had to do was follow that same formula. He’d formulate a plan to make Poppy fall in love with him. Failure wasn’t an option.

Not with the future happiness of his child at stake.