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See? Simone knew nothing about that sort of thing, which was another reason she would make a lousy mother, if given the chance.
“You know,” Mike said as they approached the checkout counter, “speaking of kids, this kind of feels like we’re preparing a doggie nursery.”
The hint of a chuckle tickled the tone of his voice, but Simone didn’t find anything warm or amusing in the words.
They weren’t co–dog owners.
And there wasn’t anything parental about their relationship, even though a child they’d created was growing in Simone’s womb.
A sense of uneasiness settled over her as she thought of giving up the baby. But the child deserved a loving home with two parents, a couple who would lovingly prepare a nursery in anticipation of the child they’d always wanted. And she tamped down the momentary discomfort.
Simone glanced at Millie and recognized a soulful longing that whisked across her face, a momentary stab of grief.
It wasn’t likely that Millie and Fred would ever have the chance to decorate a nursery. And the shame of it all was that they’d make great parents. If given the opportunity, they’d welcome a new baby…
Simone’s musing took an interesting turn.
Maybe Fred and Millie would want her baby.
Wouldn’t it be easier to give the child to people she knew? A couple she trusted?
It was certainly something to consider. And she hoped that Mike would see the wisdom in it—when the time came to tell him that during their one night together they conceived a baby.
She sure hoped he wouldn’t give her a hard time about the decision she’d made.
Still, her tummy tossed and turned.
What if Mike didn’t agree? What if he didn’t let up on her and tried to push her into something she knew was wrong—at least, for her?
“That will be a hundred and twenty-seven dollars and sixteen cents,” Millie said, drawing Simone from her musing.
Mike whipped out his credit card in a blur. Or so it seemed.
Simone blinked, feeling a bit dizzy and light-headed.
Whew. All she needed to do was to pass out. The dedicated paramedic and the dutiful suitor in Mike would have a field day with that.
Uh-oh.
A buzz filled her ears, and she reached for Mike’s arm, felt the bulge of muscle tense.
He turned and caught her eye, his smile morphing into a frown. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” Damn. She didn’t want to tell him. But if she didn’t, he was going to figure it out all by himself. “I think I’m going to…”
Her knees buckled before she could finish the thought.
Chapter Three
Mike caught Simone in his arms just before she crumpled to the pet-shop floor.
As much as he wanted to hold her close, to cling to the citrusy scent of her bath soap and shampoo, he gently laid her down and knelt beside her. He might be medically trained and competent in an emergency, but he wasn’t at all prepared for Simone’s collapse.
“Oh my gosh,” Millie said, hurrying around the counter to see what was going on. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Mike didn’t know for sure. “I think she fainted.”
Simone’s vulnerability damn near sent him reeling, and he took her hand, checking her pulse while assessing her respiration. He placed a hand on her forehead to gauge her temperature and found it cool, so she didn’t have a fever.
Her lashes, dark and lush against the skin that had gone pale, fluttered ever so slightly.
“Fred!” Millie called. “Come quick!”
Simone lifted her lids, blinking them a couple of times until her eyes searched Mike’s face, as though she was trying to focus.
When she tried to sit up, he stopped her. “Just lie still for a minute or two.”
“Okay.” She drew in a shaky breath, then slowly blew it out.
“How are you feeling?” Mike ran his knuckles along her cheek—God, he’d missed touching her.
“A little light-headed and buzzy, but nothing hurts.”
Again, she began to fold up into a sit. And this time, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently held her down. “I’m calling the shots, and you need to lie still a little longer.”
She offered him a wry smile. “I thought paramedics were supposed to yield to the nursing staff.”
“Yeah, well, not when the nurse is incapacitated.” He tried to shrug off his concern, but couldn’t. What the hell had happened? And why?
Damn. He wanted to do so much more than tell her to stay put and to remain quiet, but she was conscious. And he couldn’t find any of her vitals out of whack. So he relied on his training to tell him she was okay when his heart was telling him to call 911 and ask for backup.
Deciding upon a compromise, he said, “As soon as you feel up to moving, I’ll take you to the hospital and get you checked out.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll be okay.” She closed her eyes, but only for a moment. “This isn’t serious, Mike. Besides, it was my own fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday at lunch, and I really should have grabbed a snack on our way out the door.”
He hoped she wasn’t dieting; she didn’t need to lose weight. She was in great shape. And even if she could stand to lose a couple of pounds, she ought to know that starvation wasn’t the way to go.
“I got a little light-headed and—” she shrugged her shoulders “—I passed out.”
She could say that again.
He watched the color slowly creep back into her face. “Why haven’t you been eating?”
“I was tired when I got home from work last night and decided to stretch out on the sofa and watch a little television before fixing dinner. The next thing I knew, it was morning.” She slowly sat up and leaned her back against the counter. “And when I woke up, I… Well, I just got busy. That’s all.”
And then he’d dragged her shopping for pet supplies. Great.
By this time, Fred Baxter came running to their side, his breathing heavy and more labored than a short, indoor jog should have caused. “Oh my goodness! Simone. What happened?”
“I fainted,” she said. “I’m sure it was caused by low blood sugar.”
“I’ve got some orange juice in the back room,” Millie said. “And a granola bar.”
“That would help.” Simone slowly sat up, then ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you.”
As Millie hurried through the store, Mike said, “You’re going to need to eat more than juice and a snack. I’ll take you across the street to the deli so you can order lunch.”
And for once, when it came to Simone, he wasn’t going to sit back and let her call the shots.
Minutes after Fred had loaded their purchases into Mike’s Jeep and returned the key, Simone allowed Mike to lead her across the street to Prudy’s Menu. The small bakery/deli specialized in scrumptious desserts, gourmet coffees and teas, as well as homemade breads, soups and sandwiches.
They sat at one of the green bistro tables that graced the street-front patio of the eatery. An umbrella shaded them and their place settings from the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves of several old maples that grew along Lexington Avenue.
The waitress had just given them water and taken their orders.
“Are you feeling better now?” Mike asked.
“I’m still a little shaky, but it’s passing.” Simone offered him a smile she hoped was convincing.
She wasn’t used to being coddled or taken care of. Even as a kid, when she’d actually been sick, she’d had to fend for herself. So she’d gotten accustomed to being alone when she was under the weather and, to be honest, actually preferred it that way. For a woman who dispensed endless doses of TLC for a living, she was uneasy being on the receiving end.
Of course, now that she’d had a granola bar to eat and some juice to sip, she was almost back to normal—at least, physically. Emotionally, not so much. The news of her pregnancy was still a little unsettling.
Giving the baby up might not be easy, but it would be for the best.
“Are you too cold?” he asked. “Or too warm? We can go back inside if you’d be more comfortable.”
She reached across the table and placed her hand over the top of his. “I’m fine. And I’ll be even better when the waitress brings my soup. Besides, we have to sit outside because of Wags.”
“You’re right, but I’ll bet Millie and Fred would have watched the puppy for us.”
Simone peered under the table, where Wags was tethered to a chair leg by a new red collar and leash. He was so content to be greedily chomping on a little rawhide bone that he didn’t even glance up at her. “Look how happy he is.”
Mike’s gaze remained on her. “If it gets too warm for you out here, if the sun is too bright, let me know and I’ll take him across the street so we can go inside.”
“The temperature is perfect. And besides, the fresh air will help clear my head.” She offered him another don’t-worry-about-me smile, then scanned the small patio, where only one other group of diners—an elderly man and two women—sat.
There hadn’t been many people wanting to eat outdoors during the winter months, so it was nice to see the weather changing. And while she knew a cold spell could still strike at any time, she preferred to think that spring was here to stay.
Apparently, Belle, Prudy’s daughter who was now running the eatery, agreed, because there were several pots of red geraniums gracing the patio that hadn’t been there the last time Simone had stopped in for a bite to eat.
When the waitress brought their lunch—a turkey sandwich and vegetable soup for her and a pastrami on rye for Mike—Simone dug in.
The fainting spell was probably a combination of pregnancy hormones as well as a low blood sugar level from not eating, but she would talk to the doctor to make sure. There was no reason to take any unnecessary chances or to jeopardize the baby’s health. From now on, she would put the child’s best interests above her own.
Simone didn’t need a psychiatric evaluation to tell her the baby would be much better off with another mom. She’d wished a hundred times over that her mother would have had the courage to do the right thing when faced with an unwanted, unplanned pregnancy. Susan Garner would have done herself and Simone a huge favor by signing over maternal rights at birth, but that hadn’t happened.
And now, ironically, Simone was faced with the same decision. And while that decision might have come quickly, it wasn’t being made easily.
Would the baby look like Mike, with his black hair and green eyes? Or would it look more like her?
She could hardly imagine.
Had her mother been faced with those same questions when she’d been pregnant?
Maybe even more so, under the circumstances. And she suspected that when handed a baby who favored her father, Susan Garner had recoiled emotionally.
Genetics could be a real bitch sometimes.
When Simone had taken her second bite of the sandwich, she glanced up to catch Mike studying her. His hair, as black as a young raven’s wing, was spiked in a style that suited him. And his eyes, as green as a blade of new grass, were intense and quick.
He was of medium height, but there was nothing average or run-of-the-mill about him.
Their gazes locked, as they sometimes did, with a bond of friendship and professional respect.
So there was a bit of sexual attraction, too. But she knew better than to latch onto something as fleeting as that and glanced back at her food.
“Maybe you ought to see your doctor and have your glucose level checked,” he said.
“Don’t worry. Now that I’m eating, I feel much better.”
“Okay, but promise me you’ll make an appointment with the doctor anyway.”
Simone placed her half-eaten sandwich on the plate, then picked up her soupspoon. “All right. I’ll do that as soon as I get home.”
It was a promise she meant to keep, but she wouldn’t call Dr. Grayson, her general practitioner. Instead, she would contact Dr. Kipper’s office and schedule her first obstetrical appointment.
Of course, at thirty-seven, it was a little embarrassing to be unmarried and expecting a baby, but at least something good would come of it—especially if she could set up a private adoption with Millie and Fred.
Yes, she understood that Fred had some serious health issues, but he was a wonderful man. Her baby would be lucky to have a daddy like him.
“Okay,” Mike said, “you’re probably right.”
She glanced up from her nearly empty bowl, knowing that she hadn’t been thinking out loud, but having the strangest feeling that he’d been privy to her musing. “Right about what?”
“You’re wolfing down your food as though you hadn’t eaten in ages.”
“I told you that I hadn’t. Didn’t you believe me?”
“You’ve never lied to me, so I guess I have no reason not to.”
Would his worry increase if he knew she was pregnant?
Once Mike had implied that she would make the perfect wife. And he’d made no secret that he was ready to settle down and start a family.
