Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like them. I had some good friends back in school.”

“So good that you’re bringing a fake date to impress them?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, took a sip of her water. “You should be flattered, since you get to be the impressive fake date.”

“There is that,” he mused, studying her, trying to get a feel for whatever it was she was hiding.

And Darby was hiding something.

He couldn’t put his finger on what, but something had her buzzing about the prospect of returning to Armadillo Lake.

“Tell me about your hometown.”

Her face pinched into a scowl. “Not much to tell.”

Right.

“I’m going to your reunion this weekend. Don’t you think I should know a little about your past?”

“Not really.” Her nose curled, as if she’d taken a sniff of something vile. “We’ve known each other for what—four years? What you don’t already know, you don’t need to know.”

“I disagree.” What did he know about her past? Not much. Just that she’d grown up in a small town in Alabama, gone to medical school in Knoxville, on full scholarship, and had decided to stay in Tennessee after he’d jokingly suggested opening a practice together. Surprisingly, since he hadn’t made up his mind on where he’d end up, when Darby had said yes, he’d known practicing with her was exactly what he wanted to do. Not once had he regretted that decision, and for the first time since his grandfather’s death he had roots.

“Oh?” She might have meant the word to be nonchalant, but the slight squeak gave away her anxiety.

A good person might have let the subject go, not put her on the spot, but Blake had never claimed to be good. Not in that sense, at any rate.

He zeroed in on the one name she’d let slip on the day the invitation had arrived. “I want to know more about Mandy Coulson.”

Darby sighed, rolling her eyes toward the hospital cafeteria’s ceiling. “You would want to know more about her, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugged. “She’s the only non-related person from your hometown I’ve ever heard you mention by name.”

Her eyes flashed blue fire and her chin lifted. “Trey Nix.”

Blake paused, fry midway to his mouth, dangling from his fingers. Trey Nix? “Who’s he?”

Why did he instantly dislike him?

Face full-bloom pink, Darby pretended fascination with her chicken salad, raking her fork through the half-eaten entree. “No one.”

Clearly she regretted having mentioned the name.

“No one?” He wasn’t buying that. “Then why bring him up?”

“You insisted upon another name, and I knew you wouldn’t quit until I gave you one.”

“And Trey Nix—” what kind of name was Trey Nix, anyway? “—was the person who popped into your head?”

“It’s just a name.”

Uh-huh.

“Interesting.”

Her gaze lifted to his. “What’s so interesting?”

“That you mention a sworn enemy and then a guy.” Pink blotches spread across her throat and Blake’s suspicions rose. “Were you in a love triangle with Mandy and what’s-his-name?”

“A love triangle?” She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

But the half-strangled way she said the words hinted that he’d hit the nail over the head.

“Besides I never said Mandy was my sworn enemy.”

“No?” Good thing Darby had wanted to go into medicine and not acting. Not even the most gullible bloke would buy the bull she was attempting to feed him. Not liking how his fries weighed heavily in his stomach, he waited until her gaze met his. “Who was she?”

Better still, who was Trey Nix, and what had he meant to Darby?

Setting her fork next to her plate, she arranged the utensil on the tray. “For the first fifteen years of my life Mandy was my best friend.”

Best friend? Now, there was a twist Blake hadn’t seen coming.

The cafeteria wasn’t crowded, or particularly noisy, but he had to strain to hear her next words.

“But that was before.”

“Before what?”

She shook her head. “Let’s change the subject. I’ve had enough of the past for one night, and no amount of poking or prodding from you is going to get me to say more, so let it go.”

She dug into her salad with gusto. She’d been playing with her food all evening. He doubted she was even hungry. But apparently she didn’t want to talk about Mandy and was sending a loud message for him to back off.

Her tone had switched to Darby bossy. The tone she used when he’d pushed as far as she would allow him to push.

Fine—he’d let the topic of Mandy go. For now.

“At least tell me what you expect of me this weekend.”

She paused mid-bite. Startled eyes lifted to his. “What do you mean? I told you what I expected. Just pretend you’re madly in love with me—as if I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you and you can’t live without me.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, taking measure of the panic in her eyes and wondering at his own rising panic at her words. “I can do that.”

In many ways, meeting Darby was the best thing to ever happen to him.

“How long have we been dating?”

She blinked at him, as if he’d spoken in an alien tongue. “Pardon?”

“There are things inquiring minds will want to know. Questions that are usually asked when a person sees someone they haven’t seen in a while.” He gave her a pointed look. “How long have we been dating?”

“The simpler we make this, the better.” Glancing down at her plate, Darby stared at her food. “We’ll say we’ve known each other for years, but only recently became romantically involved. Let’s stick to the truth as much as possible.”

Why was she so nervous? Because she was going to see the man from her past she’d mentioned? What did it matter to Blake? He should be happy if she reconnected with some long-lost love.

Was Nix a long-lost love?

Blake’s fries threatened to stage an uprising. “The truth works for me.”

“Except that you’re in love with me,” she pointed out.

His irrational reaction to the idea of Darby having a long-lost love irritated Blake. “I got that.”

Her gaze dropping to her plate, she nodded. “I just wanted to be clear.”

“As crystal.”

Her cellphone rang. She pulled out the phone and looked at the number. Grimacing, she shoved the phone into her pocket.

“Who was that?”

“Rodney.”

Her ex? Why was he calling? “You didn’t change your mind about getting back with him?”

He hoped not. Really hoped not.

He didn’t like the idea of Darby with Rodney. She was way too good for the guy. Plus, crazy as it was, he wanted to go with her this weekend, wanted to meet Mandy. And maybe even Trey Nix, just so he could figure out what Darby’s relationship had been with the man—although he had a pretty good idea.

An idea he didn’t like any better than the idea of Rodney.

“No,” she sighed, looking tired, as if this trip home weighed heavily upon her mind.

He knew she hadn’t gone home last Christmas, but she had made the trip when her niece was born. During the four years he’d known her she’d gone home a few times a year, but never for more than a night.

“Part of me wonders if I should beg him to take me back rather than bring you to my hometown.”

No, she shouldn’t bring Rodney with her. Blake wanted to meet her family, see where she’d grown up, figure out what it was about her hometown that made a woman he admired for her confidence so unsure of herself.

Darby was his partner and she needed his help. More than she even realized. Whatever her issues were with her hometown, he’d help her. He owed her that for keeping him on task throughout his residency and the beginning of his medical career.

“I can behave myself. Even in a place named Armadillo Lake.” He chuckled, letting the name roll off his tongue. “Sounds like a fun place to grow up. Is there really a lake?”

“Yes.”

“And armadillos?”

“Yes.”

“Your school team were the Armadillos?”

She gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“Let me guess—your school mascot was a giant armadillo?”

Gaze lowered to her plate, Darby nodded.

“Bet that went over great at football games.” He chuckled. “An armadillo.”

Darby had grown still. She looked as if she were praying he wouldn’t put two and two together. Where Darby was concerned Blake always put two and two together. He grinned.

“You were the mascot, weren’t you?”

The next morning Darby had barely climbed out of her car before Blake fell into step beside her in the clinic’s employee parking lot. “I checked on Mr. Hill this morning. He’s insisting on going home, and he’s only been there one night.”

She ignored him, just as she’d been ignoring him since he’d burst out laughing at her admission she’d once worn an armadillo suit to all major school sport events.

Not a cute little armadillo suit that showed off her legs—if such a suit even existed. No, she’d been in a full-bodied, hot-as-Hades, head-to-toe vinyl Armadillo suit that looked like something straight off a cheap Godzilla movie. And all to impress a guy—to prove that she was more than a brainy girl, that she had a sense of humor and could be fun. What had she been thinking?

“He’s giving the nurses a hard time.” With his usual persistence, Blake continued, following her down the clinic’s hallway toward their offices. “The night nurse said he pulled out his IV line. She put the line back in, and threatened to strap his hands to the bedrails if he pulls it out again.”

Darby already knew all this. She’d visited Mr. Hill, too. Blake had beaten her to the hospital, thanks to her sleeping late, but she had checked on her two patients this morning.

No wonder she’d overslept. Most of the night she’d lain in bed having nightmares about the upcoming weekend. Nightmares in which she’d shown up at the reunion not decked out to the nines as planned, in the new killer dress she’d bought, but wearing that awful armadillo suit. Trey hadn’t been the one laughing at her. Blake had been the one shaking his head, pointing his finger, not understanding her desire to fit in. Not understanding how she desperately wanted him to notice that she was alive. The truth, she’d realized, was that this weekend was more about him than her class reunion.

She’d awakened in a cold sweat, certain she’d made a grave miscalculation—that thinking she could make Blake notice her as a woman was as foolish as wearing that armadillo suit had been.

Despite having sent in her RSVP, she didn’t have to go. Most likely no one would even notice if she was there or not.

No, that wasn’t true.

Mandy would know. Wasn’t that why she’d sent Darby’s invitation late?

If she didn’t go, she was saying that she was okay with her and Blake’s relationship never being more than what it was. And, although what they had was wonderful, Darby wanted more.

She was going.

Not only was she going, but she was going to have fun.

And in the process of making Blake notice her she’d make Trey eat his heart out because he’d chosen the head cheerleader over the geeky, too-smart-to-be-understood school mascot. What had he been thinking?

She’d risen beyond her high school experiences and was a desirable woman who held the power over her life. Wasn’t that what her wannabe-shrink roommate during her first four years at university had said—making Darby repeat the phrase while looking in the mirror each morning, insisting Darby go for formal self-confidence-boosting therapy?

She was in charge of her life. Dr. Darby Phillips, a woman worthy of respect and admiration. A woman who’d come a long way from wearing a dumpy armadillo suit and longing for a man she couldn’t have.

Her gaze fell on the man keeping stride next to her.

Well, no one could accuse her classy navy pants and cream-colored blouse of looking like a scaly animal, at any rate.

“Ah, come on, Dilly, surely you aren’t still mad at me?”

Why had she told him the mascot’s name?

Blake being Blake, of course he’d tease her, call her by that name. She spun to where he’d followed her into her office.

Knocking his hand away from her plastic heart model, she straightened to her full five feet three inches and poked his thick chest. “Don’t you ever make fun of my having been an armadillo again—do you hear?”

His eyes widened slightly at her outburst, but a smile curved his full lips. “Ah, Darby, come on. I’m sure you were a cute armadillo.”

She glared. He was supposed to be groveling, shaking in fear, apologizing, not still laughing.

“Too bad I didn’t go to your school.” He tweaked her chin, his fingers sending shivers over her flesh. “I’d like to have seen you in that costume. Maybe you could wear it for me this weekend? I promise to show my school spirit.”

Couldn’t he be serious? Or at least pretend as if he felt threatened? Of course he couldn’t. Blake was one of those annoying perpetually positive folks. As much as that did annoy her at times like these, his disposition was also one of the things she liked most about him. One of the things that had always drawn her to him.

He made her laugh. Had from the moment they’d met. She’d been so serious, so determined never to let a man make a fool of her again, so focused on getting her medical degree, she’d forgotten how to laugh until she and Blake had been assigned an emergency room rotation together. She might have been up to her eyeballs in work, but one wink from Blake could reenergize her sleep-deprived body and have her smiling from the inside out.

No one had ever been able to make her feel good the way he could.

Fighting to hang on to her angry bravado, she rolled her eyes. “The only costume you need to see me in is a white lab coat.” She forced her brows into a scowl. “Isn’t it time for us to get started seeing patients?”

He sighed with exaggerated effort. “You’re in a foul mood this morning, Dilly.”

She pursed her lips, crossed her arms and glared up at him. Way up. Why had she worn flats? “No more armadillo jokes.”

She refused to back down. She didn’t want Blake seeing her in the same light Trey had. After a moment of their facing off—her feigning anger, him grinning—he nodded.

“Fine, no more school mascot jokes.” He put his fingers up in a Scout’s Honor symbol. “If I get the urge to tease you, I’ll just dill with it.”

She looked heavenward. “This isn’t funny.”

He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “From where I’m standing, it’s pretty funny.”

“Because you weren’t the one wearing that horrible suit.”

Perhaps she’d let too much of her past pain bleed through, because Blake stared at her a little too closely.

“Last I heard, folks aren’t forced to be school mascots,” he pointed out. “They volunteer for the job.”

“Well, Mr. Know-it-all, sometimes there are extenuating circumstances that cause a girl to wear ugly suits and play a fool.”

“What extenuating circumstances?” His dark eyes saw too much, and Darby fought from shifting her weight.

“It’s complicated.” Complicated? Yet another word for humiliating herself in an effort to get Trey’s attention

Looking way too serious, Blake crossed his arms in a similar stance to her own. “I’ve got time.”

There were some things that shouldn’t be repeated. Her high school blunders were just a few of them. She glanced at her watch. “I don’t. I need to see my morning patients. Bye.”

She grabbed her stethoscope and rushed from the office. Without turning to check, she could feel his gaze burning into her, could feel the heat scorching her cheeks.

She also sensed his amusement. His curiosity.

“See you later, Dilly,” he called from behind her, no doubt brushing his fingers over her heart model.

What had she been thinking when she’d told him about that wretched costume? About her nickname? Next thing she knew she’d tell him she’d been voted most likely to die a virgin and had yet to do anything to prove her classmates wrong. For a woman who prided herself on her intelligence, she sure was making a lot of stupid choices.

But there came a time when a woman had to either don an armadillo suit—or invite a man to spend a weekend in a hotel with her in hopes of being noticed or accept not registering on his radar.

As insane as her frustration was, Darby was tired of not making a bleep on Blake’s radar.

She wanted his radar bleeping. For her.

Which just went to prove how little intelligence she really had.

Bleeping on Blake’s radar would likely ruin everything she held dear, so why was she bleep, bleep, bleeping in her heart?

The closer Darby and Blake got to Armadillo Lake on Friday afternoon, the more Darby’s stomach churned.

What was wrong with her?

She should be looking forward to the opportunity to return home and show her old schoolmates they’d been wrong about her on most accounts. And she should be excited at the prospect of maybe making Blake see her as a desirable woman…

After all, hadn’t that been the idea behind her last-minute shopping trip to her favorite lingerie shop? She should be a lot of things, but she suspected if Blake wasn’t the one behind the wheel she’d turn the SUV around and head back to Tennessee pronto. For so many reasons—not the least of which was that she was afraid of what the weekend might do to her and Blake’s relationship.

But if she wanted more than what she had—and she did—she had to shake things up. Sleeping in the same bed should do that—had he even considered their sleeping arrangements when she’d invited him?

Darby stole a glance toward him and fought a very feminine sigh of appreciation. God, he was breathtaking. And, for the weekend, he was all hers.

“You’ve barely spoken the last thirty miles of our drive.”

“You’ve talked enough for the both of us,” she pointed out.

He had. Blake could carry on a conversation with a stump. His gift of the gab was a trait she envied. Although she’d taken classes to help her overcome her shyness, she’d been introverted for the earlier years of her life. She hadn’t wanted to be shy, but when you preferred to have your nose stuck in a book than to drive into Pea Ridge to cruise the shopping mall—well, popularity wasn’t your middle name.

“Didn’t your mom tell you not to do that? Your face might get stuck like that.”

Designer aviator glasses protected Blake’s eyes from the blazing sunshine brightening their drive. If the manufacturer could hire him to model those shades, they’d sell billions. He made them look that good.

“Like what?” she asked, thinking life was unfair if one man could have been blessed with so many talents. Looks, intelligence, wit. Yet, Blake wasn’t one of those men who walked around thinking he was a million bucks. Despite his teasing about his many charms, he was one of the most genuine persons she knew. Actually, he was the most genuine person she knew. What you saw was what you got.

She liked what she saw way too much.

“Like we just drove past another chicken barn with the windows down.”

Darby bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Not long after they’d crossed the Alabama state line Blake had rolled down the windows to experience some fresh country air. He’d gotten fresh country air, all right.

“Most likely we did pass another one.”

This time it was his face that wrinkled—him who looked like he might need to pull the SUV over.

“I’ll never eat chicken again.”

Darby laughed out loud. “There are chicken barns in Tennessee. So don’t tell me you’d never experienced a chicken barn up close and personal before.”

“Apparently I’m still a city boy at heart,” he admitted unashamedly. “From the car is as up close and personal as I want to get to a barn of any type. Especially one as foul as what we smelt earlier.”

“Foul?” Shaking her head at his double entendre, Darby laughed again. Just as well she wasn’t planning to take him with her when she dropped in on her folks tonight.

Her stomach jerked again. No doubt her brothers and their wives would start pushing for her to move home. They always did. Her family hadn’t been able to understand why she’d been so driven to leave Armadillo Lake, to get her degree and make something of herself, to see the world. They especially hadn’t understood when her plans to join a traveling medical program had taken a one-eighty turn and she’d stayed in Knoxville.

Then again, they’d never met Blake.

“What were you thinking about that made you scowl?”

She should have known he wouldn’t let her change the subject. He rarely did.

“About the reunion.”

He glanced away from the road just long enough for her gaze to meet the mirrored lenses that hid his eyes. He shook his head in confusion. “Most people look forward to high school reunions, to catching up with their old classmates, seeing who married who, who has the most kids, who gained forty pounds, who still has their hair.”

“Yeah, well.” She turned to stare out the window at the growing all too familiar landscape, her belly lurching. “I’m not most people, City Boy.”

“That you’re not.” He chuckled, then surprised her by reaching across the gap between their seats and taking her hand into his.

Clasping their fingers together, he squeezed.

Her belly gave another jolt, a much larger one than before, and she faced him.

“No worries, Darby. Whatever it is that has you wound so tightly about this weekend, everything is going to be fine. You’re going to dazzle all your old classmates with your intelligence, success, beauty, and especially with your impressive date.” Smiling, he briefly dipped his head, glancing at her from above the rim of his shades. His black eyes bored into her. “I promise.”

The warmth emanating from Blake’s hand to hers almost made her believe everything would be all right concerning the reunion—that every fantasy she’d ever had of returning to Armadillo Lake and making everyone eat armadillo…er…crow, would come true.

Regarding the way every single cell in her body surged to life at how his hand still held hers, at how much she liked his hand holding hers, at how many hopes she had pinned to their spending the weekend together—well, that was another matter altogether.

CHAPTER THREE

FOR the dozenth time since they’d arrived at the Armadillo Lake Lodge, Darby stared at the queen-sized bed monopolizing the standard hotel room.

“Forget it,” Blake warned, stepping next to her. His hands rested on his lean hips as he stared at the bed, too. “I’m not sleeping in a chair.”

He thought she wanted him out of the bed? What would he say if she admitted to having been imagining the two of them there? To wondering what it would be like to spend the entire weekend in bed with him? Laughing, playing…something more…?

He’d probably laugh and tell her to be serious.

She sighed, shaking the bottle of fruity disinfectant she’d sprayed onto the top of the gaudy brown and orange comforter that likely had been in use since the lodge had first opened.

“I didn’t say you had to sleep in a chair.”

If they didn’t share the bed, news would spread like wildfire. This was Armadillo Lake. Everyone knew everyone’s business. After cleaning the room, Gertrude Johnson would no doubt spill the juicy tidbit to anyone who’d listen. The Johnsons had run the only hotel within a thirty-mile radius for as long as Darby could remember. If not for the tearoom that served as the town’s only “nice” restaurant, and the large ballroom that hosted all major town events, the place would likely have gone out of business years ago. Armadillo Lake didn’t attract many tourists.

Just unsuspecting women returning for their high school reunion while trying to convince the man of her dreams that she was the woman of his dreams. No biggie.

She turned to look at him. Despite their six-hour drive, he looked crisp. Not a wrinkle on the gorgeous man’s khaki shorts that fell to just above his knees, nor on his expensive polo shirt. Just once she’d like to see him rumpled.