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The Baby Bonanza
Jacqueline Diamond
ANOTHER MAN’S FAMILYSafe Harbor ultrasound technician Zora Raditch has made some big mistakes, but sleeping with a man just before divorcing him takes the cake. And then she discovers she's pregnant—with twins. Struggling to deal with an unplanned pregnancy and accept that her ex wants nothing to do with her, the only man Zora can count on is her handsome and headstrong housemate, Lucky.Luke “Lucky” Mendez wants to protect Zora and her babies—he knows her ex won't suddenly turn into the husband she needs. But being a friend is a lot different than stepping in as a father. Can Lucky prove to Zora that he’s the family man she and her babies deserve?
“If you apologize again, I’ll slug you.” Zora glared at Lucky.
He laughed, an unexpected rumble that rolled right into her heart. “That’s my Zora.” A bout of hard breathing reawakened the hope he might finally kiss her, but instead he sucked in a gulp of air and held it. “Okay. Better.”
“Better than what?”
He ignored the question. “Since I inveigled you into working today, let me buy you lunch to celebrate.”
“You’re on.” The heat in her body hadn’t exactly dissipated, but it had faded into her normal pregnancy-enhanced high temperature. As for Lucky, clearly he didn’t, couldn’t and never would accept Andrew’s babies as his own.
As common sense reasserted itself, Zora was suddenly glad nothing had happened. Going any further would have been yet another in a long line of mistakes she’d made with men. Gathering her possessions, she waited until Lucky locked up, and they sauntered out together. Friends again, nothing more.
Which was obviously how they both preferred it.
The Baby Bonanza
Jacqueline Diamond
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The daughter of a doctor and an artist, JACQUELINE DIAMOND has been drawn to medical themes for many of her more than ninety-five published novels, including her Safe Harbor Medical series for Mills & Boon. She developed an interest in fertility issues after successfully undergoing treatment to have her two sons, now in their twenties. A former Associated Press reporter and columnist, Jackie lives with her husband of thirty-five years in Orange County, California, where she’s active in Romance Writers of America. You can learn more about her books at www.jacquelinediamond.com/books (http://www.jacquelinediamond.com/books) and say hello to Jackie on her Facebook page, JacquelineDiamondAuthor (http://facebook.com/JacquelineDiamondAuthor).
Contents
Cover (#u830d025c-c793-5c57-ae4a-0324873ac3ee)
Introduction (#u2f27d01e-efbb-508a-9019-fc0b44a0cba1)
Title Page (#u03783615-5ff7-5355-a164-73d2a680bffe)
About the Author (#u57bffc6a-86b2-5644-b7a8-41f5a2449e5c)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ub2072629-c39b-52c4-9a7c-13fa558b95bb)
It was the first time Zora could recall agreeing with Lucky Mendez about anything. Although their truce surely wouldn’t last long, she appreciated his good judgment this once.
“No way are you letting that creep move into our house,” the male nurse told their landlady and housemate, Karen Wiggins. With his striking dark hair, muscular build and flamboyant tattoos, Lucky made an odd contrast to the pink streamers festooning their den.
“Everybody hates Laird Maclaine,” Zora added as she arranged baby shower prizes on a side table. Being seven months pregnant with twins, she had to avoid any strenuous activity. In fact, as one of the shower’s honorees—along with two of their former housemates—she could have dodged setup duty, but she refused to take the easy way out.
Ever.
“He’s the only one who responded to the notice I posted on the bulletin board.” Atop a step stool, Karen tied a bunch of balloons to a hook. In shades of pink and purple, each balloon proclaimed: Baby!
“We have a vacant room and the rent’s almost due,” she continued. “It’s either Laird, or I post on the internet and we fend off the loonies. Unless you guys can produce another candidate, fast.”
Lucky hadn’t finished castigating the topic of the conversation. “One drink and Laird’s telling raunchy jokes. Two drinks and he’s leering at any lady who walks by.” His lip curled. “Three drinks and we call the police.”
“For a staff psychologist, he doesn’t have a clue about how decent people act,” Zora threw in.
“I don’t care for him, either, but there are bills to pay.” Karen, a financial counselor at Safe Harbor Medical Center, where they all worked, had inherited the five-bedroom home from her mother the previous December. Forced to take out a loan to repair the run-down property, she’d advertised for roommates. The arrangement had worked well despite the diverse personalities who’d signed on.
So far, three of the women had become pregnant, but the other two had married and moved out, unlike Zora. There was little chance she would marry the father of her babies, because he was already married. He was also her ex-husband, with whom she’d foolishly and, just before finalizing their divorce, trustingly had sex in the belief that her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart still loved her.
Zora rested her palm on her bulge, feeling the babies kick. How ironic that she’d gotten pregnant by accident at the worst possible time, after she and Andrew had tried for more than a year to conceive. They’d been on the point of seeking fertility treatments when she’d discovered he was cheating on her.
“We have plenty of other colleagues,” Lucky persisted. “You guys are in a better position to meet them than me, since my office is out in the boonies.” Lucky worked in the medical office building adjacent to the hospital.
“I’ve tried, but... Oh, yuck!” Karen broke off as a breeze through the rear screen door carried a fetid whiff of decomposing vegetation and fish from the estuary behind the property.
Zora nearly gagged, too. Karen praised the marsh ad nauseum because it provided critical habitat for plants and small animals, as well as for California’s migratory birds. However, despite the cooling weather at the end of September, it stank. “Who left the door open?”
“I must have forgotten to close it after I swept the patio.” Lucky shut the glass slider with a thump. “How about renting to that receptionist in your office?”
“She declined.” Descending from the stool, Karen stood back to assess the position of the balloons. “She prefers to save money by living with her parents. Speaking of money, if we don’t find anyone by next month, I’ll have to divide the room rent among you guys and Rod.”
Their fourth and newest housemate, anesthesiologist Rod Vintner, had gone to pick up the party cake. He’d also gone, in Zora’s opinion, to avoid anything approaching hard labor, although he had promised to clean up afterward.
“We could use the spare room as a nursery.” Lucky cast a meaningful gaze at Zora’s large belly. “If someone would inform her ex-husband that he’s about to be a father and owes child support, she could afford the extra space.”
“Don’t start on her,” Karen warned, saving Zora the trouble. “Go set up the chairs in the living room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a salute, Lucky strolled off. Zora tried to ignore the muscles rippling beneath his T-shirt and the tight fit of his jeans. The man was a self-righteous pain in the neck, no matter how good he looked.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t brought home any dates since they’d moved into the house last February. Or none that she’d observed, Zora amended. Since Lucky occupied the downstairs suite, he could easily slip someone in late and out early without the others noticing. Men did things like that.
“You can stop staring at his butt now,” Karen said dryly.
“I wasn’t!”
“You can lie to anyone else, including yourself, but spare me.” The older woman—forty-two to Zora’s twenty-nine—tightened the ponytail holder around her hair, which she’d dyed black this month. “Was that the kitchen timer?”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Zora adjusted a gift-wrapped box with a slot for envelopes. The front read: Nanny Fund. They planned to share the services of a specialist nanny among the three new moms and their collective total of six infants. Well, they did work at a hospital noted for its fertility treatments, although only one of the pregnancies had high-tech origins.
The timer buzzed. “There!” Karen said with satisfaction. “I knew it would sound any second.”
“You must be psychic.” Zora waddled behind her past a table displaying shower-themed paper plates and napkins.
“I have a well-developed sense of when food is done. Call it experience.” In the kitchen, Karen snatched pot holders from a hook and opened the oven, filling the air with the scents of orange and lemon, almonds and balsamic vinegar.
Karen set the tins of Mediterranean muffins on the stove to cool. “I’d better start on the finger sandwiches. Only two hours before the guests are due, and I have to dress.” She tied an apron over her blouse and long, casual skirt.
“I’ll finish the vegetables.” From the refrigerator, Zora removed the containers of celery, carrots and jicama that she’d cut up earlier, along with sour cream to mix for the dip and peanut butter to fill some of the celery sticks. “Would you get the olives and an onion soup packet from the pantry? I’m too big to squeeze in there.”
“Gladly.” Karen angled her slender shape around the narrow bend that led to the storage area. “Just black olives, or green ones, too?”
“Both.” Zora lowered herself onto a chair, grateful she could still reach the table around her abdomen. A railing underneath allowed her to prop up her swollen ankles, but nothing alleviated the strain on her lower back. It ached more each day.
She hid her discomforts, determined to continue working as long as possible. Being an ultrasound tech meant standing on her feet all day and angling her midsection so she could scan the patients, but she was saving her paid maternity leave for after the twins’ birth. Two months left—if they didn’t arrive early.
After retrieving the requested items, Karen spread out her sandwich fixings on the counter. Through the kitchen’s far door, Zora heard the scrape of folding chairs being opened and placed around the front room. She respected Lucky’s work ethic; he always pitched in with an upbeat attitude. If he could only master the art of minding his own business, he’d be...well, tolerable.
Footsteps thudded on the carpet, announcing Lucky’s return. His short, military-style haircut emphasized the strong planes of his face, which reflected his Hispanic heritage. “Where are the chair covers hidden? Someone else stored them after Anya and Jack’s wedding.”
“Upstairs in the linen closet,” Karen said.
“Can I ride the stair lift or is that only for mommies?” Lucky teased. Both women narrowed their eyes at him, and he lifted his hands in a yielding gesture. “Just asking.”
“Go play somewhere else,” Zora muttered.
“Alone? That’s no fun.” With a rakish grin, he dodged out.
“You two should swap rooms so you could be downstairs,” Karen observed from the counter. “Let him ride the stair lift if it gives him a thrill.”
“I can’t afford the extra rent.” Lucky’s large room commanded a correspondingly larger price. While Zora didn’t care about having a personal patio exit, she did envy him the private bath. Karen had one, too, upstairs in the master suite, while Zora shared a bathroom with Rod and Melissa. Or, rather, with Rod and whoever moved into the room Melissa had vacated when she’d remarried her ex-husband.
Some people have all the luck. A sigh escaped Zora. Too late, she tried to cover with a cough.
“A pickle chip for your thoughts,” Karen said.
“No, thanks.” Zora popped a black olive into her mouth.
“You really are entitled to support,” Karen observed. “I wonder whether you’d have faced your ex by now if Lucky weren’t such a nag.”
“He has nothing to do with it.”
“You’re stubborn,” was the reply. “Seriously, Zora, how long can you keep this secret? I’m amazed Andrew’s mother hasn’t spilled the beans.”
“Betsy doesn’t know.” Zora’s former mother-in-law was the nursing supervisor at the hospital. The kindhearted lady had suffered through the loss of two beloved daughters-in-law, thanks to her son’s faithlessness.
Zora wondered whether Betsy was being more cautious about bonding with Andrew’s third wife, a Hong Kong native he’d met on a business trip while he was married to Zora. Unexpectedly, tears blurred her vision. How could he cheat on me? And then, just when I was ready to let him go, trick me into believing he still loved me?
“Betsy sees you in the cafeteria every day,” Karen reminded her.
“She’s aware that I’m pregnant,” Zora agreed. “But she has no idea who the father is.”
Karen stuck a hank of black hair behind her ear. “She isn’t stupid.”
“But I doubt she believes Andrew is capable of...of being such a grade-A jerk.” Damn those tears stinging her eyes again. “Aside from my closest friends, most people accept my explanation that I made a mistake after my divorce. I let them assume I picked up a guy in a bar.”
“And that’s better than admitting you slept with Andrew?”
“It’s better than admitting I’m a complete chump.”
More footsteps, and Lucky reappeared. “They aren’t there. Let’s skip the seat covers.”
“I refuse to have guests in my house sitting on ugly folding chairs,” Karen said.
The man tilted his head skeptically. “What’s the big deal? People have been sitting on folding chairs without covers since the dawn of time.”
“No, they haven’t.” Hastily, Zora shielded the relish tray from his attempt to grab a carrot. “Hands off!”
“Evidence found in caves throughout northern Europe indicates that Neanderthals shunned folding chair covers as a sign of weakness,” Lucky said. “And why so stingy with the veggies?”
