Not Through Loving You by Patricia Preston (12)

As Aaron brought his Range Rover to a halt at a stoplight, he glanced at the message from his friend Dr. Brett Harris, aka Hot Rod. He sent Brett a response.

Holy crap, Aaron thought. Code D was the hospital’s disaster code, which meant something huge and terrible had happened, like a pileup on the interstate, a building collapse, a mass shooting, or an industrial gas leak. There would be multiple victims and total chaos in the emergency department.

He had worked only one Code D in his career, and that had been back when he was a resident. A mining explosion had sent more than fifty seriously wounded patients to the hospital. Some became casualties. He had hoped he would never have to work another Code D in his life.

As he neared the medical center, he expected to the see the emergency department entrance crowded with ambulances and police cars with lights flashing. Instead, there was only one medical equipment van parked under the overhang. That meant the emergency vehicles were still on site or en route back to the hospital.

He parked in the parking lot reserved for physicians and snatched his lab coat off the backseat. As he pulled on the white coat, a surge of adrenaline hit him, preparing him for what was coming. He ran up the catwalk that led to the physicians entrance. With a swipe of his badge, the door to the physicians lounge unlocked, and he rushed inside.

“Surprise!” A chorus of female voices greeted him.

He stopped abruptly as blue and white balloons floated around him. His jaw dropped as he saw a couple of folding tables covered in baby stuff. He was surrounded by baby stuff. Stacks of boxed disposable diapers and wipes formed pyramids on the floor, and a paper stork floated above a table bearing frilly gift bags. God help me.

“Welcome to your baby shower.” Kayla pinned a blue flower on his lab coat.

He looked from her to Dr. Marla Grant, who stood beside her. “I’ve been had,” he said.

Marla shrugged. “It was one way to get you here.”

“Yeah, Doc,” Helen agreed. “If we’d told you it was a baby shower, you would have weaseled out on us.”

Kayla nodded. “He would’ve used the old ‘I’ve got an emergency’ excuse.”

That was probably true. A baby shower. A room filled with loud women ecstatic over the frilly cake that was topped with building blocks, booties, and a teddy bear all made of icing. He didn’t even know what to do, much less how to act.

Kayla took him by the arm. “Come on. It’s not gonna kill you.”

No, it wouldn’t kill him. But within an hour, he thought he might kill himself. He was stuck in one of the leather armchairs, surrounded by twenty-five women who were talking and laughing nonstop. They had cut the fancy cake, and being the guest of honor, he got the first slice. The cake was good, but the punch needed some kick. After the refreshments, the women started playing games. Who knew?

With his phone in hand, he fired off a text to Hot Rod.

I’ve gotta send you a picture. Aaron lifted his phone and snapped a photo of Marla, Kayla, and Helen, who were sucking baby bottles filled with a couple of ounces of cola. Their various supporters cheered for them. Aaron sent the photo to Brett.

WTF? Brett replied.

That’s a bet you would have won. Aaron sent the text as Helen finished off the bottle first. Then he sent Brett another text. Rest while you can. In a few months, you might be the father of twins.

Next, he sent a text to Lia.

She was right about that. The last part of the baby shower focused on gifts. Helen had been astute in finding out from Lia that she had bought clothes, toys, and other items for the nursery. Along with the disposable diapers and wipes from the nursery staff, the assorted gifts included a humidifier, nursery monitor, a newborn medical kit and home apnea monitor, a baby bath kit with supplies, monogrammed baby bath towels, a music box, and an heirloom baby quilt.

Kayla and Marla had presented him with his favorite gift. It was a matted and framed eleven-by-fourteen enlargement of a picture that Helen had taken a few days ago of him and John Aaron in the nursery. Wearing a surgical cap and scrubs, he held the baby in his arms.

As things started winding down and most of the attendees returned to their respective departments, Brett came through the doorway rolling a two-wheel handcart that carried a large box covered by a thirty-gallon black garbage bag.

“Sorry, I’m late,” the chief of cardiology announced. He wore loose scrubs and white athletic shoes. “I had an emergency.”

Kayla rolled her eyes, and Marla frowned. “Hot Rod, what on earth is that?”

“It’s a gift.” Brett grinned as he set the handcart on the floor. “They wrapped it for me down in maintenance.”

Helen folded her arms and glared at him.

“It’s a nice gift,” he defended himself.

“I don’t know.” Aaron looked at the bulging garbage bag. He wasn’t sure he wanted to open it.

“What’s going to pop out?” Kayla asked. She spoke to Marla. “It’s not big enough for a stripper. Maybe a dog?”

“Listen to all of you,” Brett started, “and all of your preconceived notions. Just because I own muscle cars and wear a leather jacket and hate white lab coats, people think surely I’m not a doctor. You’re doing the same thing to my gift. You’re judging it by its wrapping. Just because it’s not all prettied up in gold paper and silver bows doesn’t mean it’s not worthy.”

Kayla let out a groan, and Marla said, “Aaron, look in the bag so he’ll shut up.”

“Okay.” Aaron pulled open the top of the garbage bag and started to laugh. “I should have known. It’s an infant car seat.” He took the box out of the garbage bag.

“Yeah, we should have known,” Marla agreed.

“It’s a top-of-the-line baby car seat with impact protection,” Brett said proudly.

“Thanks. It’s perfect.” Aaron gave a nod of approval as he looked at the images on the box. “I was going to buy a car seat next week, and this is the one I would have bought.”

“See.” Brett turned to Marla and Kayla. “Sometimes great presents come in garbage bags and great doctors come in leather jackets.”

Kayla flung a piece of cake at him.

* * *

Frank groaned as he sat on his bed and heeled off his shoes. He had enjoyed the cabin on the lake and fishing all day and playing poker all night, but those damn bunks had killed his back. He was looking forward to a good night’s rest.

Fresh out of the shower, Stevie appeared in the doorway, dressed in a Captain America T-shirt and boxer shorts and wearing a big grin on his face. Frank looked up. The kid that would not go away.

“What did I tell you?” Stevie leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s just the two of us upstairs now. Aaron has hauled all his shit back downstairs.”

Frank shrugged. He had assumed as much when they were having dinner, and he’d seen Aaron making goo-goo eyes at the girl. “He’s in his thirties. He’s a man, and what he does is his business.”

“I bet they got it on hot and heavy while we were gone.”

“I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Stevie frowned. “He’s a doctor. He should know what he’s doing.”

“That ain’t what I meant.” Frank shook his head. “Jesus, it’s not always about sex.”

Stevie studied his father for a moment. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about him getting his heart trampled again,” Frank explained in a worried tone. “Is there not another guy in her life? A singer?”

“He’s not in her life right now.” Stevie gave his back a stretch. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play.”

“The last thing Aaron needs to do is to make the same mistake twice.”

“Ah, Dad, it’s not like it was back in the old days when guys went steady with girls. It’s not like that now. You gotta get out there and mix it up every chance you get. That’s all Aaron’s doing. Getting laid while he can.”

Frank wondered how had he raised such an immoral kid.

“Speaking of mixing it up.” Stevie’s smile widened. “I saw the way those nanny ladies were checking you out. They’d like to have some of you, Dad.”

“Goddamn.” Frank was on his feet. “They’re old as the hills.”

“They didn’t look any older than you,” Stevie pointed out.

Rattled, Frank paced the room and stopped at the dresser. “They’re a damn sight older than me. Like way older, and besides that, I’m sure they are all nice, decent, respectable ladies who don’t mix it up. Aaron wouldn’t even consider them otherwise.”

Stevie gave his father a serious gaze. “Listen, Dad, if he hires the one with the round face, you’d better watch out. I saw her giving you the look.” Stevie made a well of his fingers on his left hand and stirred his right index finger in it. “She wants to mix it up.”

“Get outta here. Go to bed, damn it. Right now before I kick your ass,” Frank ordered.

“I’m gone.” Stevie headed across the hall to his bedroom. Then he turned and called, “Dad, if Aaron hires the round-faced nanny, I’ve got some condoms you can have.”

Swearing, Frank closed the door to his room. He was not about to mix it up with any round-faced nanny.

Downstairs, Aaron stood in the nursery, holding the framed picture of himself and John against the wall. “How’s that?” He positioned it a foot above the chest of drawers while Lia watched.

“That’s good,” she said, and he reached for the pencil on the chest of drawers.

He marked a spot and attached a picture frame hook to the wall. As he hung the picture, Lia said, “I think that’s the best gift you got, but all the rest are really nice, too.” She turned to the crib where they had stacked boxes of diapers and some of the other presents.

As he straightened the picture frame, she pressed the Play button on the music box. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” started playing. “I can’t believe that,” she murmured.

“What?” He walked across the room to where she stood and looked at the picture he had hung. It was straight. “I did a good job.” He noticed she was staring at the music box, her dark lashes lowered as if she were lost in the soft tunes it played.

He took a moment to admire her. She wore the pretty white dress she’d worn that night when they’d met in the hotel restaurant and he had been determined to send her packing. A lot had changed since then. Lucky me, he mused as he took the music box out of her hands. He placed it on the chest of drawers and restarted the song.

As “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” started to play again, he reached out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

For a moment, it appeared her breath halted before she took his hand. “Yes. Yes,” she repeated as if she had agreed to more than just a dance.

They settled against one another as they waltzed around the nursery in small steps, a couple forward and backward since there was little open space. “We need a bigger room,” he said as they bumped into the armoire.

“This is fine,” she whispered. She began to softly sing the lyrics to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

He smiled. He loved for her to sing to him, and as she sang about dreams coming true, he glanced at the picture of himself holding John Aaron. The baby was a dream come true, and so was the woman in his arms. He sensed a shift in her as she slid her hand from his and roped both of her arms around his neck as they swayed to the music. Desire mounted inside her. He heard it in her sighs, felt it in her grip on his shoulders and in the restrained movements of her body. His senses were attuned to hers. Instinctively, he knew her heart was rushing blood to her thighs and she needed her mate.

“We should call it a night,” he murmured, and she nodded with enthusiasm. He shut off the light in the nursery as they headed across the hall to their bedroom.

An hour later, they were in bed, but they hadn’t called it a night. Twisted sheets hung off the mattress, and moonlight streamed over his woman as she sat astride him. To him, she was perfection in every way that mattered. He drank in the sight of her long hair floating over the fullness of her breasts, the rock of her hips and the stretch of her slim arms as she gripped his shoulders. He loved how she flushed when they made love.

She was the woman of his fantasies. He pressed his hands against her thighs. On the outside, her skin was soft and smooth to the touch. Inside, she was heaven. Scorching hot and soaking wet. He could barely contain himself as he experienced all the little private details that made her his.

Aaron pulled her to him. They sprawled on the mattress together. He could not get close enough or deep enough or intimate enough as their bodies melded together.

A familiar, punishing ache throbbed through his body, and he groaned as she dug her fingertips into his shoulders. He felt the sweet shudder deep in her womb and heard a soft sob escape her lips.

At that moment, he lost it. Physically and emotionally. His orgasm in itself was the pinnacle of male satisfaction. Nothing ever matched it. He lifted his head to look at Lia and thought of all the times he had experienced a climax with various women. Roll them all into one and it wouldn’t compare to being with her. Pleasure and love were such a potent combination that he hoped he never had to live without either again.

The next morning, as the shower sprayed warm water over him and Lia, he said, “Sing to me.” Nothing like having a woman sing to you in the shower.

Standing behind him, she rubbed a bath sponge over his back. “Hmm.” She hummed a little bit and started out with a roadhouse slant to her voice. “Since you left, darling, all I can do is dream of the days when I washed your back,” she sang with a twang. “I can’t believe we’re through. My tears pour down while you’re running ’round with every slut in town.”

“Shit,” he remarked, and she started laughing as she squeezed more body wash on the sponge.

“You want something with a little more romance?” She patted his shoulders with the sponge and started singing off the top of her head. “I wasn’t looking for love when I met the baby doctor.”

Aaron groaned, and she continued. “I’d never seen a man so fine. I just knew in my heart I had to make that doctor mine.” She gave his belly a playful slap with the sponge.

He shifted toward her and took the sponge from her. “I like that one better.”

“Do you?” She leaned against the shower wall, looking sexy and mischievous and almost more than he could resist.

The pounding water washed away the soap the sponge left behind as he brushed the sponge over her breasts. Inhaling the crisp scent of the citrus body wash, he pushed her wet hair from her face and kissed her. She gripped his shoulders, looking up at him from beneath her lashes while he ran the sponge over her hips and between her legs.

She gave him a naughty smile as she squirmed, and his body responded to what it perceived as female readiness. He tossed the sponge in the plastic shower basket and pulled her close.

“Look who’s up early,” she said, glancing down at his erect penis.

“It’s all the wiggling around you do. It attracts him.”

“Sorta like a worm on a hook and a big fish.”

He had to think about that for a second. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You notice I didn’t say minnow.” She threw back her head and laughed. Her wet hair spilled across his arm. Then she gripped the back of his neck and gave him a deep kiss while she wiggled against him some more. He clutched her back as her tongue stroked his. Damn, he loved how she kissed. Suddenly, he was in the mood. He pinned her against the tile wall and reached for her hips.

She pulled her mouth from his and let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh.” She pressed her mouth against the prickly stubble on his jaw. “Oh, Cole!”

He froze, and she let out a lively chuckle. “I couldn’t resist that.”

“Aren’t you in a teasing mood this morning? Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back.”

She shook her head as the steam rose around them. “You told me I could call you that.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did.” She lifted her head, her smile wide. “The first time. Remember? You said I could call you Cole.”

“At the time, I would have said anything,” he remarked. “I take it back now.”

“You can’t take it back.” With her hands spread on his chest, she said, “We have a lot to do today, so we need to make this fast.”

“Okay, Loretta.” He chose the name of the first female country singer that came to his mind. “Quickie, it is.”

“Loretta? Are you talking about Loretta Lynn?”

He adjusted the showerhead so the water wasn’t pouring directly on them. “We don’t have time for talking.”

“All right, Cole. Let’s see whatcha got.”