Her Best Friend's Baby

Bright sunlight gave way to cool shade as she pushed him into an alley. Then she wrapped her arms around him and he clung to her and cried. He felt her shaking in his arms and was ashamed that he’d caused her to lose control, too. But he couldn’t do anything except curl his body over hers, bury his face in her glorious hair and hold on for dear life.

Eventually he managed to stop crying, but he couldn’t let go of her. He lifted his damp face, straightened a little and laid his cheek on the top of her head. “I was going to leave today,” he said. “Go back to New York.”

Her arms tightened around him.

“I won’t,” he said. “Not yet.”

Her grip slackened. Then she sighed, and when she spoke, her voice was hoarse from weeping. “Good.”

CHAPTER THREE

MARY JANE got behind the wheel of her neon-green Super Beetle while Morgan leaned down and moved the passenger seat back to accommodate his long legs. She’d sold her old junker and found a smokin’ deal on this slightly used buggy. It had been love at first sight the minute she’d seen the bud vase set into the dash. Sure, she had monthly payments, but she also had a silk daisy smiling at her every time she climbed into the car.

Before starting the engine, she turned to Morgan. “How long do you think you can stay?”

“A few days, maybe. But I’ll need to call the office and tell them where I am. My partner can probably take care of—”

“You didn’t tell your office you were coming here?”

He looked surprised by the question. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Morgan!”

“I haven’t been in the most organized state of mind recently.”

“Well, I know, but people must be frantic! Your office is one thing, but what about your friends, your parents? All sorts of people.”

He regarded her steadily. “I called my parents right after the accident. As I talked to them and felt no empathy at all, I was brutally reminded that they try to avoid anything messy and cruel. When I told them there would be no funeral, so they weren’t required to do anything, they sounded relieved. They told me to call if there was anything they could do. But I knew they didn’t really want me to call.”

Her heart ached for him, but she knew exactly what he was talking about. Her father had been like that after her mother died. He’d promptly hired Arielle as Mary Jane’s nanny and then had proceeded to distance himself from his daughter, who was a constant reminder of harsh realities like death. Arielle had been her family from that moment on, Arielle and the good friends she’d made here in Austin.

“As for friends,” Morgan went on, “I have to confess we weren’t all that close to anyone. We were both busy with our careers, and we didn’t take much time to socialize other than business dinners, meet-and-greet kinds of things. I can’t think of anyone who would be all that concerned as to my whereabouts.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong about that, but you should at least call your office.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

“Do you have a calling card?”

“Of course.”

She pointed to a pay phone a few feet from the restaurant. “I’ll wait.”

His eyebrows rose. “Are you giving me an order?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I don’t know how they do things in New York, but out here in Texas we give people a shout when it’s necessary. I would say running off to Austin and leaving your medical practice high and dry qualifies.”

“My God, you’re lecturing me!” He seemed ready to give her an argument.

She met his gaze. “I may be a mere child in your eyes, and an uneducated waitress on top of that, but it’s possible I know more about some things than you do, in spite of the fact you’ve gone to college for about a million years and probably graduated magna cum incredible.”

He blinked. “I don’t think of you as an uneducated waitress.”

“That’s what I am,” she said quietly. She noticed he hadn’t contradicted her statement that she was a mere child. He still thought she was too young—too young for him. “I finished high school,” she said, “but I was sick to death of sitting in stuffy classrooms by that time. Waitressing is the only thing I know how to do.” She paused. “Well, that’s not quite true. I know how to—”

“Never mind!” he shouted.

Her eyes widened. “I was going to say crochet. What did you think I was going to say?”

“I’ll make that call.” He was out of the car in an amazingly short time, considering that he had to unwind his body to get through the low-slung door.

But he didn’t get out quickly enough to keep Mary Jane from seeing that he’d blushed red as a stop sign.

While he made his call, she studied him without fear she’d be caught gawking. She needed to look at him more closely and decide what she thought about all this. For one thing, she wanted to make sure that she wasn’t rising to the bait. If she wasn’t careful, she’d take his assumption that she was only a kid as a challenge to prove she was every inch a woman. That would be bad.

Once he’d made his connection to New York, he leaned a shoulder against the curved cubicle surrounding the telephone. Now that she’d begun to see him as a man instead of a pediatrician and her best friend’s husband, she allowed herself to notice the wide set of his shoulders, his narrow waist circled with a black leather dress belt, the pleated trousers that didn’t totally hide his nice butt. He shifted his weight. Definitely a nice butt.

He wore his wavy brown hair short, and she found herself gazing at the nape of his neck with the urge to kiss him there. They’d never really kissed at all, come to think of it. What had happened between them last night hadn’t been a romantic interlude, more like a bid for survival. She wondered how it would feel to be truly kissed on the mouth by Morgan. For some reason she figured he’d know how to use his tongue.

She imagined him without those rumpled clothes and felt the stirrings of lust. He had strong-looking legs. She remembered that much from this morning, before he’d started getting all guilt-ridden and she’d stopped noticing his body.

No doubt it wasn’t kosher to be sitting here checking him out, considering their circumstances, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Maybe she was using curiosity as a distraction from the scary grief that hovered over her like King Kong. If so, it worked pretty well.

Yeah, she was damn curious about what kind of lover Morgan was. Arielle wasn’t the type to drop coy little hints, like some wives did, about her husband being a stud. Mary Jane had assumed Morgan was a nice guy but not particularly exciting in the bedroom.

Last night notwithstanding, and she couldn’t really count that, he might still be a ho-hum Romeo. But if Morgan was no fun in bed, then her radar was way off. She was picking up signals like crazy from this man. He was starting to make her drool, to tell the truth. She didn’t feel particularly noble admitting that to herself, but it was true.

She might be able to blame the pregnancy for her sexual interest in Morgan. In a way, that made the lust all his fault, his and Arielle’s. She liked the idea of pointing the guilty finger at her hormones. Those rambunctious little dudes were the villains, getting her all worked up.

But if she followed that line of reasoning, she should be drooling over anything in pants. Plenty of male customers came through the door at the diner, and she hadn’t felt inclined to jump their bones. She’d felt generally deprived sexually, but it hadn’t affected her discrimination.

Morgan hung up the phone and turned. As he walked to her, her heart did a little dance of welcome. He was only staying a few days, she reminded herself. They obviously needed each other to make it through the first shock and come to grips with their tremendous loss. When they’d recovered their balance, he would go back to New York and continue with his life there while she would stay in Austin and continue hers. She’d probably better cool it.

He climbed into the car and shut the door. “Calling was the right thing to do.” He looked at her. “Thanks.”

“So they can manage without you for a little while?”

He nodded. “Chuck told me to take whatever time I needed. I said I’d check in with him in a couple of days.”

Mary Jane had another sudden thought. “You didn’t get any pets since I was there last, did you?”

“Nope, no pets. And only fake plants. A weekly cleaning service.” He stared out the window. “The apartment could go on forever just fine without anybody being there. We planned it that way so we could have more freedom.” He shook his head, bemused. “We planned everything carefully. We had a smooth, neat life. No wrinkles.”

“Then why in the world did you want a baby?” The question came out before she even knew she was going to ask it.

He turned and looked at her for a long time. “The truth?”

“No better time than now.”

“I wanted the baby. Arielle wasn’t sure a baby was a good idea. I often wondered if there was some sort of mind-body thing going on that kept her from getting pregnant. I was the one who suggested finding a surrogate mother. I may even have been the one who thought of you.”

Mary Jane realized she’d known all along that Arielle wasn’t absolutely gung-ho about having a kid, although her friend had never said anything to give herself away. She’d tried to be a good sport. But looking back on it, Mary Jane recognized that most of the enthusiasm had come from Morgan and herself. She’d been so excited about doing this huge favor, a favor that would prove her undying love for Arielle, that she’d told herself Arielle wanted the baby more than anything in the world.

But she hadn’t. She’d gone along with the idea for Morgan’s sake.

“I think on some level I knew she wasn’t wild about the idea,” Mary Jane said. And then a disloyal thought came to her. If Arielle hadn’t wanted this baby more than anything in the world, what kind of mother would she have been?

“She would have loved that little kid, though, once she got used to motherhood,” Morgan said. “Once the baby was here.”

Mary Jane glanced at him and wondered if he’d been thinking the same thing she had. “She would have been a wonderful mother,” she agreed quickly, not wanting to admit a chink in her loyalty, even to herself. “And I should know. She practically raised me.”

“I know. She told me all about that. She was very proud of her job.”

“She should have been.” But disloyal thoughts seemed to be the order of the day, because Mary Jane was thinking another one. She wondered why she felt so obligated to Arielle for taking her on. Arielle had needed a job as much as Mary Jane had needed a nanny. And yet the way the story always came out, Arielle had rescued Mary Jane. Which was kind of true, but it hadn’t been exactly a one-way street.

“I guess this is a pointless discussion,” Morgan said.

“Not really.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “I’m looking for any way I can to deal with what’s happened, and I have to admit it helps to know that she wasn’t as excited about the baby as I…thought she was.”

“She would have been, once the baby was born,” he insisted.

“Of course she would have.” Mary Jane didn’t think either of them totally believed that. She took a deep breath and glanced at him. “I figure besides a phone card you also have a gold card.”

“Yeah.”

She switched on the engine. “That’s good, because unless you were planning to fit into some of my outfits, you need to do some clothes shopping.”

“Oh.” He looked at his wrinkled shirt. “Good plan. Any major department store will be fine. I’ll just get a few shirts and a couple of pairs of slacks, some underwear.”

She backed the car out of the parking space. “You mean more stuff like what you already have hanging in the closet at home?”

“Pretty much. Why?”

“Because you’re in Texas, my friend. Why not go native?”

“You mean buy Western clothes?”

She gave him a quick once-over. “Why not? You have the build for it. Come on, now, haven’t you ever wanted to be a cowboy?”

“No.”

“Never? Not even when you were five? You never galloped through the back yard shooting bad guys?”

He shrugged. “Sure, maybe, but that doesn’t mean that I want to parade around in those kind of clothes now.”

“Betcha do.”

He sighed and settled back against the seat. “You’re going to take me to a Western store, aren’t you?”

“When was the last time you tried on a cowboy hat?”

“A cowboy hat? You think I’m going to put out my hard-earned money for a damned hat? I might need some shirts and pants, but I do not need a hat.”

MORGAN nearly knocked the Stetson off his head when he climbed in the Beetle two hours later. “See? It gets in the way,” he complained to Mary Jane, who looked incredibly smug about the entire shopping expedition. “I’ll probably lose this very expensive hat in no time.”

“No, you won’t. Not if you took a good look at yourself in that full-length mirror. The hat is essential.” She closed her door and gave him a triumphant glance. “Did you or did you not have more fun buying those duds than you have ever had shopping for boring suits and ties?”

Well, he had, but he felt guilty about it. The fact was, he’d never had so much fun shopping for clothes in his life. And fun wasn’t what he was supposed to be having right now. “At least I have something to cover my body with that doesn’t look as if it went through the trash compactor.”

“There you go.” She seemed satisfied with his response, as if she could tell from his tone that he’d enjoyed himself. “Now let’s hit the grocery store and then we’ll go home.”

Home. They needed to talk about their living arrangements. “Look, if I’ll be staying a little while, then I think sleeping on the couch downstairs is the best—”

“I’d absolutely planned on that.” She gunned the engine and made it through a yellow light.

He wondered if she’d planned on that. During the shopping spree she’d had many excuses to touch him while she’d checked the fit of a shirt or the length of his jeans. She’d taken those opportunities. And to his shame, he’d liked that part of the expedition most of all.

But a few casual touches were one thing. They weren’t going to share a bed again. Sharing her town house might be risky, but moving into a hotel would defeat the whole purpose of his staying. He needed to stay clear on his purpose. He and Mary Jane were the two people most affected by Arielle’s death, and it was only logical that they’d ride out the storm together, at least during these first few days. They were a safe haven for each other. They could trust each other with their tears.

On top of that, he needed to consider the health of his baby. If Mary Jane went into a depression because she’d lost Arielle, then she wouldn’t eat right or exercise. She might forget to take her vitamins. The pregnancy could be compromised. He wanted to make sure that she was in good mental health before he went back to New York.

Come to think of it, he’d probably have to make a few trips to Texas in the next four months to check on her. She’d had a sweet tooth before this tragedy, judging from the evidence he’d found in her kitchen. That was a problem that could quickly get out of hand. Yes, he definitely needed to monitor her progress closely.

“You’re smiling.” She whipped the little car into the parking lot of a large grocery store. “I knew those clothes would cheer you up.”

Startled, he glanced at her. He hadn’t been aware of smiling and he hadn’t been thinking about his new clothes. He’d been thinking of spending time with her.

“I’ll bet wearing those jeans and boots reminds you of the fun you used to have playing when you were a little kid,” she said.

“Maybe.” He wasn’t about to admit the real reason he’d been smiling. She was liable to read something into it.

“Something else I’ve always wondered.” She slipped the car neatly into a parking spot and cut the engine.

“What’s that?”

“How come you decided to be a pediatrician? I mean, once you made a decision to be a doctor, why didn’t you go, Hey, I think I’ll be a brain surgeon, or maybe a heart surgeon.”

He recognized familiar territory. Not particularly attractive territory, but familiar. “You mean because it might pay better?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Funny, but Arielle tried to convince me to switch over to one of those specialties while I was still in med school. Did you guys talk about that or something?”

“No, no, we didn’t. She seemed pretty happy about your job.”

“Well, yeah, she was.” But she hadn’t always been. He’d shoved that terrible fight under a stack of happier memories. She’d nearly broken their engagement when he wouldn’t consider restructuring his classes so he’d be qualified for a more glamorous specialty.

“I feel comfortable with kids,” he said. “Always have. In high school I did one of those shadowing things where you spend time with people in professions you’d like to enter. I shadowed an older woman who’d been in pediatrics for thirty years. I knew I’d found what I wanted to do.”

Her blue eyes shone. “That’s so wonderful. Not very many people find their calling in life so early. You’re very lucky.”

“Lucky? That’s kind of a strange thing to say right now, Mary Jane.”

Her expressive eyes clouded and she laid a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” he said gently. There was her touch again, making him yearn for things he couldn’t have. “And you’re right. In some ways, I’ve been very lucky. I wonder if it’s true, that life has a way of evening out. Strike it rich in one area and you’re liable to strike out somewhere else.”

“I refuse to believe that.” Her grip on his arm tightened. “I refuse to believe that just because something good comes along, something bad is right on its heels.”

He watched her mouth and realized he’d never even kissed her. He knew what it was like to sink deep inside her and feel her powerful contractions, but he had no idea how her lips tasted. And he would never know. “Or just because something bad comes along, something good is right on its heels?”

“That’s more reasonable,” she said. “Now, let’s shop.” She opened her door and got out of the car.

He chuckled. It was hard not to with Mary Jane around. It was hard not to feel alive and hopeful, although the positive emotions she inspired carried a certain amount of guilt. “I like your way of looking at things,” he said as they walked together toward the store’s entrance.

“And my taste in men’s clothing?” she prompted, giving him the once-over.

“It’s different. I would never have picked a shirt with blue lightning streaks across the shoulders.”

“It looks good. You should probably stay close to me and pretend we’re a couple or somebody’s liable to hit on you.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Then wander by yourself down the aisles and see what happens, if you don’t believe me. Thanks to my suggestions, you’re now a genuine piece of eye candy.”

He laughed out loud and was sure his face was red. No woman, not even Arielle, had ever paid him such an outrageous compliment. He’d made points with women by being an all-around good guy, but he’d never considered himself sexy-looking. Having a twenty-two-year-old tossing out comments like that was likely to go to his head.

And become addicting.

GOOD THING she’d dressed Morgan in snug jeans and a hat that made him look like John Michael Montgomery. If he hadn’t looked so damned good, she would have killed him in the bakery aisle, Mary Jane decided.

The man was determined to stuff her full of everything green and deprive her of the finer things of life, like the Black Forest cake that had been on sale for half price. She might even have paid full price for a beauty like that, with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and bright red cherries sitting on top like beacons of delight. About the only thing she could say about this load of veggies was that they weren’t all that expensive, so if they went bad she wouldn’t have wasted much money on them. Maybe the birds would like some of this stuff.

“I could have frozen half of that cake,” she grumbled as he positioned the cart next to the checkout counter and began unloading enough produce to make Peter Rabbit jump for joy. “Then it would have been spread out longer. It’s not like I planned to eat it all at once, you know.”

“That thing was made from white flour and white sugar, and I’ll bet it was loaded with preservatives. We picked up lots of fruit. That’s about a thousand times better for your system.”

“So you’re one of those misguided people who thinks fruit constitutes dessert?”

“Sure. Fruit and cheese.” He kept putting things on the conveyor belt.

Mary Jane eyed them, thinking that most of that kind of food had never been in her house, let alone in her stomach. “Fruit and cheese is a snack,” she said. “It’s fine in its place, but don’t try to tell me that it could ever, in a zillion years, take the place of cherry pie à la mode. Ask any of my customers which they consider dessert. And to make my point, we don’t have fruit and cheese as one of the selections for dessert at Austin Eats Diner. So there.”

He gave her a tolerant smile. “Some people go without dessert altogether.”

“And those people have no idea how to enjoy life.” She started digging in her purse for her wallet. “There’s not much in this world that can’t be fixed with a decent hot fudge sundae. I’ve seen it a million times in my line of work.” She opened her wallet and noticed that she needed to go to the bank, but she should be able to cover the groceries.

“Mary Jane, I don’t—”

“You might not believe me, but it’s true.” She searched through the receipts and coupons she’d stuffed in her bill section and managed to locate two twenties. “Somebody comes in down in the dumps, and I make them a sundae, swirl the whipped cream up real perky, load on lots of nuts and pop that happy little cherry on top. You can’t be down in the dumps when something like that is set in front of you.” She glanced at him. “Right?”

His gaze was gentle. “Right. Now put your money away.”

“What?”

“I’m buying these groceries. And paying you back for breakfast.”

“Oh, no, you’re not buying these groceries. We can talk about breakfast if you want, but not the groceries.” She tried to work her way past him. “Miss, I’m paying for these. Don’t let him give you his money. These are mine, all mine.”

“No, Mary Jane, now stop it.” He blocked her way. “I’m buying these. There’s my toothbrush and razor in there, for one thing.”

“Oh, like I can’t afford to buy you a toothbrush and razor.”

“That’s not the point. You shouldn’t be paying for anything. I never could understand why you haven’t taken more financial help for this.”

“Because.” She gritted her teeth. “Let me past so I can pay for the groceries.”

“Because why?”

“That’ll be thirty-six forty-nine,” the clerk said.

She took a deep breath. “Because if you started paying for things besides my medical bills, then I wouldn’t be doing you a favor. I’d be sort of like your employee, that’s why.”

His jaw dropped. “Employee? Since when did you get a ridiculous idea like that?”

“Thirty-six forty-nine,” the clerk repeated.

“Some people hire women to have their baby,” Mary Jane said. “It’s a business arrangement. It’s like a job for them. But it’s my pleasure to have your baby.” She didn’t realize that what she’d said might be embarrassing until he began to blush. But she could use that embarrassment to her advantage. “Now let me by so I can pay.”

He did.

“Personally I think you should let him pay,” the clerk said as she took the money Mary Jane held out. “I mean, the guy didn’t even have enough foresight to bring a toothbrush and razor, for God’s sake.”

Mary Jane winked at her. “What he gives me is lots better than money,” she said. Then she took her change and waltzed out of the store, leaving a red-faced Morgan to come sputtering along behind, pushing the cart full of veggies.