The Christmas Baby Bump. Lynne Marshall

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СКАЧАТЬ doesn’t want him put through a bunch of tests to find out.”

      “Is that your wife?”

      He laughed. “No, my stepmother. Robbie’s my half brother.”

      “Ahh.” She’d heard the scuttlebutt about him being quite the playboy, and she couldn’t tolerate a married guy flirting with the help.

      A smile crossed his face. “Did you think he was my kid?”

      She shrugged. What else was she supposed to think?

      “I’m just watching Robbie while my dad and Roma are in Maui.” He stared at his coffee mug and ran his hand over his hair, deep in thought. “Yeah, so I want to do a bronchoscopy, but Roma is taking some persuading.”

      “You think like a typical pulmonologist,” she said, spooning some sugar into her coffee. “Always the worst-case scenario.”

      “And you don’t assume the worst for your patients?”

      She shook her head. “I’m an obstetrician, remember? Good stuff.” Except in her personal life.

      “You’ve got a point. But I’m not imagining this. He gets recurrent chest infections, he’s got a single-note wheeze, and at night he has this constant stridorous cough. I’ve just never had to sleep with him before.”

      “You’re sleeping with him?” The thought of the gorgeous guy with the sexy reputation sleeping with his little brother almost brought a smile to her lips.

      “Yeah, well…” Did Phil look sheepish? “He was in a new house and a strange bed. You know the drill.”

      She couldn’t hide her smile any longer. “That’s very sweet.”

      He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, a more macho pose. “More like survival. The kid cried until I promised to sleep with him.”

      Heat worked up her neck. “That was probably my fault.”

      He looked at her, and their eyes met for the briefest of moments. There was a real human being behind that ruggedly handsome face. Perhaps someone worth knowing.

      “Let’s drop it. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened,” he said.

      Maybe she shouldn’t try so hard to avoid him. Maybe he was a great guy she could enjoy. But insecurity, like well-worn shoes you just couldn’t part with, kept her from giving him a second thought.

      “It’s not asthma,” he said, breaking her concentration. “If I knew for sure what it was, I could treat it. He may grow out of it, but he’s suffering right now. You think I look tired, you should see him. The thing is, he might only need something as simple as extra oxygen or, if necessary, CPAP.” He rubbed his chin.

      All the talk about Robbie’s respiratory condition made her worry about him. Especially after she’d made the poor little guy cry until he was hoarse the other night. She sipped her coffee. “Is there any less invasive procedure that can give the same diagnosis?” Keeping things technical made it easier to talk about the boy.

      “Bronchography, but he’s allergic to iodine, and I wouldn’t want to expose him to the radiation at this age. And all I’d have to do is sedate him and slip a scope in his lungs to check things out. Five minutes, tops. I’ll see how things go.”

      “So where is he?”

      “He’s in day care with his new best friend, Claire’s daughter. Thankfully she took pity on me and chauffeured him today.”

      No sooner had he said it than Claire breezed through the door. The tall, slender, honey blonde had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s called carpooling.”

      “Ah, right.” Phil said, then glanced at Stephanie. “Learning curve.”

      “Morning,” Claire said.

      Stephanie nodded. She’d met the clinic nurse practitioner the other day in a bright, welcoming office that came complete with aromatherapy and candles. She was Jason’s wife, and seemed nice enough, but Stephanie hadn’t let herself warm to anyone yet.

      “So, Robbie didn’t want to go with his group after driving to the preschool with Gina talking his ear off,” Claire said. “Gina’s my daughter,” she said for Stephanie’s benefit. “He looks so cute in his glasses. When did he get them?”

      Phil grinned. “Beats me, but I found them in his things, so I talked him into wearing them.”

      “See, you’re a natural.”

      He refilled half of his mug. “That’ll be the day. Two nights, and I’m already planning to scope him for that cough of his. How does Roma manage?”

      “Like all mothers. We follow our instincts. Give it a try.” Claire winked at Stephanie, as if they belonged to the same secret sorority. If Claire only knew how wrong she was.

      Stephanie took another swallow of coffee, wishing she could fade into the woodwork.

      “Do you have any kids?” Claire asked.

      “No.” Stephanie couldn’t say it fast enough. She stared deeply into her coffee, trying her best to compose herself. Phil watched her. “Well, I’d better prepare for my first patient. I have a lot to live up to, filling René’s shoes.” She reheated her coffee and started for the door, needing to get far away from all the talk of children. Maybe it had been a mistake coming here, but she’d committed herself for the next two months, and she’d live up to her promise.

      “You’ll do fine,” Phil said with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got to take off, too. Need to make a run to the hospital this morning.”

      She peeked over her shoulder. He stopped and poured the rest of his coffee into the sink, then glanced at Stephanie. Eye contact with Phil was the last thing she wanted, so she flicked her gaze toward her shoes. What must he think of her and her crazy behavior? But, more importantly, why did she care?

      On her way out the door she passed the cardiologist, Jon Becker, and nodded. He gave a stately nod then headed for the counter and the nearly empty coffee pot.

      “Hey,” he said. “I made the coffee and now all I get is half a cup?”

      Hunching her shoulders, Stephanie took a surreptitious sip from her mug and slunk down the hall. How many more bad first impressions was she going to make?

      “Make a full pot next time,” she heard Claire say. “Quit being so task oriented,” she chided, more as if to a family member than a business colleague. “If you’re going to be a stay-at-home dad, you need to think like a nurturer.”

      “Claire, all I wanted was a cup of coffee, not a feminist lecture on thinking for the group.”

      Stephanie couldn’t resist it. A smile stretched across her lips, the first one in two days. Jon looked at least forty, and he was going to be a stay-at-home dad?

      She’d been so isolated over the past three years, and had no idea how to have a simple conversation with coworkers. Maybe it was time to make an effort to be friendly, СКАЧАТЬ