Baby in His Arms Read online

  “Let’s do Camille first.”

  “Which is she?”

  A child of maybe six lifted her hand right before doubling over with a stream of vomit aimed straight at Afton. It splattered her scrub top and down her legs. Like dominos, the rest of the family followed suit. Afton jumped out of the cross fire, too stunned to move until Debby made a face and shook her head.

  “Welcome to nursing.”

  An hour later, she’d changed into dry scrubs, finished her rounds and was more than ready to head home for a shower and some baby cuddling time. Looking around the unit for any sign of Noah, she owned the disappointment over not seeing him.

  Grabbing her bag from the locker room, Afton stopped when she spotted Maddie.

  “Hey, everything turn out okay with your gunshot guy?”

  “He went to surgery. I’m not sure what happened after that.”

  She was digging in her locker, refused to make eye contact. Afton put a hand on Maddie’s shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  “Of course. Just, tired today.”

  “Yeah, well that’s every woman’s standard answer when it’s clear something’s wrong.”

  Maddie smiled and shut the locker door. “It’s nothing. Thanks, though.”

  “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

  Maddie turned toward the subway while Afton waited down the block to hail a cab. The air was thick with an upcoming storm, dark clouds blocking out sun. Alone finally for the first time in hours, her time with Noah at lunch came flooding back to her.

  Her legs went weak, her hands slightly trembling with the force of so much emotion rolling through her. She should regret what she’d done. She was such a screw up. But the shame she wanted to feel wouldn’t come.

  A warm scent wafted by, making the back of her neck tingle.

  “What time do you have to be home?”

  She didn’t turn to watch Noah’s approach. The tingle along her skin was enough to let her know he’d come to stand beside her.

  “Hour and a half before I have to pick up my daughter.”

  “Good. You have time for a quick supper.”

  She glanced at him, her brow furrowed. “Oh really? I do?”

  He motioned down the street with his head. “I know a great place. Come on.”

  He meandered off with the confidence of a man who knew she’d do as he asked. Afton rolled her eyes and caught up, impressed as he moved to her left so she wasn’t walking alongside the curb where traffic flew by in the street.

  Their arms brushed and neither attempted to move apart.

  A car drove past so slowly that she thought someone would pull over to speak to them. Noah did a double take, probably thinking the same as the vehicle trailed them a few seconds, then merged into traffic and sped off.

  Chicago drivers.

  They walked a block in silence. Afton slid her hands into the pockets of her coat. She should say something about this afternoon. Maybe it was just her. Noah didn’t seem affected at all. She’d allowed it to happen; had encouraged and craved every second. Being alone in that room with him had been like knowing damn well there was a tornado raging outside and deciding to go play in the rain any way. It was a rush she couldn’t deny.

  The loud buzz of her phone startled her.

  “Excuse me,” she uttered, even though Noah was looking ahead as if lost in thoughts of his own.

  Her father.

  With a scowl, she ignored the call and put the phone back in her pocket. It rang again.

  “I don’t mind if you want to take that call.”

  They paused at an intersection, waited for the light. She didn’t want her feelings about her father to show in her voice. Noah didn’t need in on the family drama. She kept her voice neutral.

  “It’s my father. I’ll apologize now because he’ll call ten times in the next five minutes.”

  Noah gave a nod in solidarity. “Your father has a reputation for being a very persistent man. Impatient, too.”

  “That’s what you get when you're descended from the hard-core Chicago mafia.”

  “Really?”

  “Why do think I like to write about murder?”

  He laughed, a pure, rich and masculine sound. She was transported back to the beach, where she’d first lost herself in the sound of his voice.

  “You don’t strike me as an ill-tempered Italian.”

  “Ah, the lineage is thin now. What about you? No mobsters hiding in your family closet?”

  Noah was cookie cutter upper crust. His lineage probably went back to European royalty. They rounded a corner where the scent of hot dogs filled the air.

  “Afraid not. My great grandparents were common German folks. Farmers. Planting wheat and cutting down straw with their bare hands and all that.”

  He was fit, athletic, but his hands were the softer side of well-worn. The hands of a man who’d tended the sick, performed emergency procedures, and comforted the dying. There wasn’t a trace of physical labor in his body. It didn’t make him less than his ancestors. There were different kinds of strong. It was satisfying, knowing this about him. These were links to her daughter’s heritage she would have never otherwise been privy to.

  “Right. You’re traveling to Germany soon, aren’t you?”

  He gave a curious look. “I am. How did you know?”

  Her cheeks went warm. This was a can of worms she shouldn’t have opened. Noah put a hand to her lower back as they approached the hot dog cart. Afton leaned into his touch, an involuntary move, but one that ramped up her hunger.

  They discussed what kind of Chicago dogs to get, his with relish, onions, sauerkraut and ketchup. Hers with chili, cheese and green onion. Food in hand, Noah motioned cheers with his foil-wrapped meal. It reminded her of another time, but the only thing missing was a hot make-out session that almost upended a vendor cart.

  “So, how did you know about Germany?”

  Damn, she hoped he’d forget.

  “The nurses were talking.”

  “Mmm. What else did they have to say?”

  No way was she going there. “Just that you’ve got the world on a string.”

  He looked at her as if he expected her to say more, to hear more gossip fall from her lips. With a slight shrug, he took a bit and seemed to think as he chewed.

  “I love packing my bag and hopping a plane, sometimes on a whim. Sometimes planned. Immersing myself in some place new is the only way I can get out of my own head. What about you?”

  “I’m sort of tied to home. Baby and all.” Your baby.

  “Right. Of course.”

  How easy for him to forget that her life included a child who controlled Afton’s entire world. He was free of any strings. Why would he remember that about her? Their lives were opposites.

  “You managed to escape to Cabo for a few days, though. I’m sure you’re due for another vacation. You owe that to yourself, right?”

  Afton lowered her food, her stomach suddenly too sour to consider another bite.

  “I don’t owe myself anything. Everything I do, I do for my baby.”

  “I remember how hard it was to raise a child alone.” He caught her eyes, his lips pressed together as if he was waiting for her to confirm that she was, indeed doing this alone.

  “You were a single father?”

  “Yes. From the time my son was five.”

  That was a development. She’d assumed he was single, at least during the time of their one-nighter. Of course, she hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t offered. They’d been acting on pure, unadulterated lust. There hadn’t been the time or the platform for questions.

  “You have one child?”

  He polished off his hot dog, the look of satisfaction he gave reminiscent of when he satiated another kind of hunger.

  “Yes. For a long time, I longed to give him a sibling, but now I’m okay that never came to pass. He’s out on his own now, and I’m on to the next phase of life.” He snagged a piece of her hair that lo
pped out of her ponytail and tucked it behind her ear. “It’s hard to imagine your life after your child is gone when you’re in the middle of raising her. But there is an entirely different side to parenthood. The side where you watch them step out into the world as a capable adult.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. They were on very different paths, another point in her favor that Noah wouldn’t attempt to take Kylie away, or probably, even want to be involved in her life. That was for the best, right? A small part of her wanted to hear him say that he longed to have another child, to give his son a sibling, to leave more of a legacy behind.

  It would be comforting, perhaps, if he gave some small sign that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to go through the next eighteen years alone in this parenting journey. Wistful thinking and daydreaming that’s all this was. It had no place in the reality of her situation. He hadn’t asked any details surrounding her child, which spoke loud and clear.

  He wasn’t interested.

  Her phone rang again. Balling up the foil from her hotdog, Afton grit her teeth and wishing her father would just. Stop. Calling.

  “Thanks for supper. I should wave a cab down now, or I’ll never make it home.”

  “I’ll share one with you.”

  Noah stepped to the curb and whistled for a cab. The blue and white checker pulled over and Afton hadn’t fully processed that he was going to be sitting in the back of it with her, thigh to thigh. Arm to arm.

  He opened the back door for her, waited as she ducked inside and gave the cabbie her address. Noah gracefully folded his long, toned body into the seat beside her, whipped out his credit card and told the driver to pay for both fares. She didn’t argue this time. He sat back, legs slightly spread in that sexy way men showed dominance. His left hand suddenly cupped beneath her jaw, pulling her in as he swiveled to face her. A soft moan escaped her lips as he claimed them, urging her mouth open to take the sweet invasion of his tongue. He tasted like mint and coffee with the rich undertone of promised sex.

  Noah lifted her slightly, bringing her hip against his, her upper body turned into him as he slid one hand inside her shirt and along her ribs.

  “Tell me you want more of this.”

  She breathed hard through her nose, seeking his kiss.

  “Tell me, Afton.”

  He’d peg anything but the truth as a lie. The hard peaks of her nipples, the hitch of her breath and demand of her lips were too blatant to ignore.

  “Yes.”

  He groaned, fisting a handful of her hair.

  “I want you on my dick again right now. Invite me in.”

  Afton let out a breath as his words sank in. She pulled away, urging his hands away from her.

  “I have to take care of my daughter now. I can’t.”

  She wasn’t a free-spirited play thing who could fuck on a whim. She had responsibilities that he didn’t. His brow furrowed as he gave her some space.

  “This afternoon shouldn’t have happened, Noah. I won’t say that I regret it because I don’t. But I am serious when I say that it can’t happen again.”

  Noah slid back in his seat, though his knee still rested against hers, and his fingertips graced over her arm.

  “Look,” she breathed. “We’re both caught up in what happened in Cabo, and it feels good, amazing, to reconnect that way. But we both know this will go no where and I can’t gamble my future for a good fuck. I know you understand that.”

  “I understand more than you think I do.”

  The deep resonance of his tone sent a shiver over her. There was an innuendo there, but she wasn’t going to explore it. The cab slowed and pulled to the curb.

  “This is my stop. Thanks for the hotdog.”

  She opened the door. Noah snagged her hand as she was exiting the cab. Her fingers tingled at the contact. Why was his touch so damn delicious?

  “I won’t stop wanting you, Afton. If you change your mind...” He brought her hand to his lips, the touch sending heat waves over her body.

  A car beside the taxi slowed to a creep, pulling her attention. From the rear window came a flash of light. Then another before the car sped up and away.

  Afton caught a glimpse of a woman in sunglasses, and what looked like a telescopic camera lens.

  She hurriedly pulled her hand away from Noah and shut the door, a sick feeling welling up inside.

  Someone had been taking their picture.

  Chapter Eight

  We need to talk.

  The message had popped up on his cell at two in the morning and he hadn’t slept since. Despite the unknown number, he knew exactly who had sent it. There was a little winky face after the sentence, the stomach-churning symbol someone he knew too well liked to overuse. Deena G.

  There was so much he wanted to say in response but refrained. Instead, he read those four words again and again, mulling over a thousand ways he’d like to reach through the phone and make this madness end. He’d likely be passed over for his dream job because of her; had to watch his every move lest he bring more attention to himself. He walked on eggshells though admittedly he wasn’t doing a good job of that with Afton.

  Jesus, he couldn’t resist her. Their forbidden fuck in the hospital yesterday had only driven his desire to a new level. One that had him pacing the hardwood floors of his apartment, wringing his hands through his hair, wanting her so much it took everything inside him not to drive over to her place.

  He still wanted that date, a few of them. Many of them. Hours together just to be with her, to learn about her inside and out. To know her. The sweet contentment she brought to him was an unfamiliar feeling and it pulled him like a drug.

  She was a mother, bringing with her responsibilities he didn’t want to shoulder again. Even if he wanted to, the scandal he was in was something Afton and her child shouldn’t have to bear. His transgressions, though exaggerated by a sick accuser, were too heavy for someone so young and already taxed. The last thing he wanted was to add weight to Afton’s load.

  Noah showered and dressed, headed to the hospital. He’d show the legal team the message and ask their advice on how to proceed.

  The ER was unusually subdued when he walked through. A group of nurses huddled together, looking at something one of them was holding. They all glanced at him as he passed, scattering in different directions as if they’d been caught doing something illegal. He frowned, aware of the glances still coming his way from the staff.

  What the fuck?

  Inside his office, he shrugged out of his wool coat and reached for the phone on his desk.

  “Noah.”

  He spun to Tom’s voice in the doorway. His mentor came inside, shutting the door behind him. The line of his mouth was pulled tight, an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

  “Tom?”

  “You may want to consider dying your hair.”

  Noah narrowed his eyes. “Come again?”

  Tom took off his glasses, rubbed at his eyes, and put them back on. He waved Noah into a seat, his standard gesture, but Noah remained standing, a knot twisting in his gut.

  “Deena posted late last night, and I quote, 'Dr. N is a blonde, hot as fuck doctor who belies his age with good genes. He has the bluest eyes you’ll ever see. The kind that ice over when he’s fucking you so he doesn’t have to feel emotion. That ice goes all the way to his soul.' There aren’t many hot-as-fuck, blonde, blue-eyed doctor’s here, Noah. This won’t take long to narrow down. She’s all but called you out by name.”

  Noah’s face went hot. He pulled out his phone and flipped to the message. That bitch! Holding the screen to Tom, he made a fist and willed himself to relax.

  “It’s from her. I haven’t responded yet, pending advice from legal.”

  “You’re sure it’s her?”

  “Yes.”

  Tom gave a resolved nod. “Okay. Today, it’s business as usual. You’ll work the floor as you always do, and legal will advise you. The board has called an emergency meeting.
I’ll keep you posted.”

  Pressure started behind Noah’s eyes, his thoughts racing. “What time is the meeting? I’ll clear my schedule.”

  “No, no. It’s closed door. Board members only.”

  “I’m the one involved, Tom.”

  “Understood. And I’ll be sure to let you know what the board decides to do.”

  The steely look in Tom’s eyes left no room for argument. If it were anyone else, Noah would blatantly ignore orders and head straight to the meeting. Breathing had never been this hard. He was about to lose his job, his legacy as a good doctor, years of hard work. Deena was on the precipice of outing him completely. She’d already named the hospital in past postings; implicated them in her miscarriage. Now, his description to nail the coffin closed.

  Tom straightened his tie. “The staff already know.”

  No wonder the nurses had scattered when he’d walked in. They’d been reading social media.

  “A company-wide email has already been sent to all-staff, coloring this as unfounded, unproven libel from an unreliable source who is currently under investigation.”

  “That string of fancy words isn’t going to keep my reputation, and staff respect, in place, Tom. I’ll be guilty by default. Like you said, Deena has a cult-like following.”

  Christ, if the staff all knew, that meant Afton did as well.

  She’d think he was a monster. A criminal. A complete and utter asshole. Jesus, of all people he wished he could shelter from this poison, he wished it could be her. Her opinion of him actually mattered.

  “Carry on as normal, Noah. That’s all I can advise you to do right now.”

  Tom walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

  Rage percolated in Noah to a boiling point. His hands clenched, his neck tightening as he struggled to keep from destroying everything on his fucking desk. Grabbing his cell, he opened the two-a.m. message.

  I’m listening.

  What could she possibly want to talk about now that she’d already basically ruined him?

  He glared at the screen as if she’d immediately answer him. With a groan of frustration, he shoved the phone into his pocket and headed for the ER. He wasn’t nervous over what the staff was thinking. He wasn’t apprehensive over the tension this was going to cause in the department today. He was pissed. Speculation was dangerous when it could be whittled down to proof. It would take a lot of balls for any of the staff to ask him directly if he was involved in Deena G’s scandalous tale. And if they did? He’d tell them the truth. He’d done nothing wrong.