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He hadn’t been able to give her what she needed when they were married. But now he could give her what she wanted and maybe cancel out at least one of the black marks on his soul.
“So you’re sure about this baby thing,” he said.
“Absolutely.” Conviction rang in her voice in spite of the tears.
Good for her. Nick was only sure about one thing. He couldn’t stand by and watch. He had no idea what form hell would take, but for sure he was going there because he couldn’t stand the thought of Ryleigh with another man. The very idea made him angrier than it should have and more pissed off than he’d ever been in his life.
“Okay,” he said. “Count me in.”
Chapter Two
Ryleigh walked through the parking lot of Peretti’s Italian Restaurant with Nick’s hand at the small of her back. It wasn’t the touch alone that had memories crashing in on her, although the way his fingers had her nerves tingling was annoying. But the déjà vu-ish feeling was more about this being their favorite restaurant. Their place. In another life.
He’d brought her here on their first date and swore she’d love it as much as he did. She’d barely eaten anything. Too nervous. Too love struck. Too anxious to sleep with him, be with him, which had happened maybe thirty minutes after they’d left that night. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other or be in each other’s arms fast enough.
A few months later Nick had asked her to marry him in the corner booth at the back of this restaurant.
“Dr. Nick. Mrs. Nick.” Vito Peretti’s slightly accented voice just kept the nostalgia hits coming. A handsome Italian man in his fifties, he smiled as they stepped inside the door.
“Hi, Vito.”
He’d taken a shine to a young couple in love. “It has been a long time since I see you together. Dr. Nick alone is wrong. I am so happy that two of my favorite people are back together.”
“No. We’re not together. I mean, we’re together right now. This moment.” Ryleigh slid her hands into the pockets of her black slacks. “We just came in to eat. Things to discuss.”
“Excellent. First you talk.” Vito nodded at Nick. “Clear the air. Fix the problem.”
“Just dinner,” Nick answered.
“Whatever you say.” The restaurant owner winked. “Food first. Then romance.”
Not this time, Ryleigh thought. She was over Nick Damian. That’s what made her plan workable.
Through the dimly lighted restaurant they were led to the back and she knew what was coming.
“Your table,” Vito said.
Every memory cell inside her vibrated in protest, but protesting for real would just raise more questions. When Vito pulled the white-cloth-covered table out for them to slide into the rounded booth, she did so without uttering a word. And, equally silent, Nick sat next to her. But the muscle in his jaw moved.
“I will bring your favorite wine,” he said.
Cabernet, she remembered. Some French name that never stuck in her head. Before she could tell him not to bother because she needed her wits intact, the man disappeared.
Nick rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. His eyes seemed to turn down at the corners more than usual, a clear indication that he was tired. He’d changed out of the scrubs she’d seen him wearing earlier that day outside the newborn nursery, when he agreed to her plan.
Now he had on worn jeans, a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and battered brown leather jacket. It was October and the brutal summer heat was gone, making the days pleasant but the nights chilly. One of the things she’d missed most was his warmth in bed. Then again, half the time he hadn’t been there. Why had it been so damn hard to get over what she hardly ever had?
“Sorry about Vito,” he said.
“No. I’m sorry. If my place wasn’t such a disaster from moving across the country, I’d have invited you over.”
“Still, I didn’t think it through. I guess it was a muscle-memory thing. With you in the car, it sort of just steered its way over here.”
Part of her hoped that meant he hadn’t brought another woman here. The other part recognized that feeling was stupid and foolish.
“No big deal. I’m just so grateful you agreed to help me out. We have things to discuss and the least I can do is buy you dinner.”
“I’ll arm wrestle you when the check comes.” One dark eyebrow lifted. “Although you might want to rethink that offer. A budget is your friend when having a baby.”
“You are having a baby?” Vito stopped at their table and heard the last couple words. “There is no fooling me. I can spot lovers, no?” Then he frowned. “But a pregnant lady should not consume alcohol. Perhaps instead of a bottle just a glass for Dr. Nick. And sparkling cider for Mrs. Nick?”
She wasn’t Mrs. Nick anymore. And after all this, Ryleigh was prepared to tackle Vito if he tried to leave without pouring her at least one glass out of that bottle of cabernet.
“I’m not pregnant,” she said.
“No worry.” Vito shrugged. “So you are here to set a mood as you try.”
She started to say no and realized that was only half true. They weren’t here to get their mood on as much as talk about getting pregnant. But she had a feeling if she talked about talking, Vito would remind her that verbal communication was not the way to get the job done.
“We’d appreciate it if you’d open the bottle,” Nick said.
“With pleasure. And your Caesar salad will be served shortly.”
“But—”
The man held up his hand, then poured a glass of wine for each of them. “I remember your favorites. A salad to share. Bread sticks with marinara and alfredo sauces for dipping. Then Vito’s world famous lasagna, also to share. And tiramisu for dessert.” He winked. “You share everything.”
More memories crashed over her. He was right about all of it.
“You have to give him credit. Nothing wrong with his powers of recall.” Nick grinned and held up his wine. “To Vito.”
She clinked her glass to his. “Gotta love him.”
“So, you’re not settled yet?” He rested his forearm on the table.
“I’m renting a two-bedroom hospital-subsidized apartment until I can find something more permanent. I have a lot of stuff in storage.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Only with the baby. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about that. But there was something else she remembered about Nick. Once he’d given his word, he wouldn’t go back on it. “That’s why we’re here.”
“The baby.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Or, more specifically, the rules of engagement.”
“Okay. Go.”
She thought for a moment. “First of all, I need to say that I don’t want to lose your friendship. So, if that’s going to be a problem, speak now—”
“Agreed.” But his blue eyes turned a little dark and broody.
“We need to keep it simple and uncomplicated. Although Vito will be disappointed about no romance. But that’s the best way to mess up a wonderful friendship.”
“That works for me.”
“No matter what,” she added emphatically.
“Do you want me to pinkie swear?” he asked, holding up his little finger.
“If that’s a guarantee—yes,” she said, crooking hers and curving it around his outstretched finger.
“Okay. What else?”
She dropped her hand into her lap as she thought. “That’s the only rule that comes to mind.”
He smiled. “Did that feel too easy to you?”
“Give me a minute. I’ll think of something to make problems. Oh, right, about why we’re here.” Between the wine and his teasing, she began to relax. “I need to do some research on the internet about how to conceive a baby.”
Nick’s eyes sparkled with amusement over the top of the glass as he sipped his wine. “Unless anatomy or the mechanics of procreation have changed since I went to med school, conception is probably achieved in the usual way.”
“Funny guy.”
Not.
Their shoulders brushed and tingles of awareness danced through her. Her skin was hot, sensitive and she was pretty sure that was about anticipation. Getting naked with Nick was never far from her mind since she’d decided he should father her baby. And it was worse after walking into Peretti’s. Like he’d said, muscle memory.
“You used to appreciate my sense of humor,” he reminded her.
“I still do.” It was one of her favorite things about him. “Let me be more specific. I want to find out the optimum time of the month. To conceive. And anything else that might increase the odds of achieving the desired objective.”
“If you’d like, I can talk to Rebecca Hamilton.”
Aside from the fact that their agreement wasn’t for public consumption, she didn’t really want him talking to another woman about her and the baby. “Is that your girlfriend?”
“She’s a girl. And she’s a friend who’s married. Also a doctor. Ob-gyn. Any information you need, I’m sure she’ll have.”
“Oh.” Ryleigh refused to believe the ugly feeling churning through her had anything to do with jealousy. “Maybe. But are you prepared to answer her questions about why you’re asking?”
“Not really.”
Was his voice just a tiny bit hoarse? His eyes narrowed and more intense than moments ago? The expression reminded her of how he looked when he wanted her. A woman who’d craved even the barest amount of attention from the man she was completely in love with wasn’t likely to forget the look on his face when he wanted her.
Ryleigh cleared her throat. “Okay, so how about this. I’ll do my research and we’ll regroup.”
“Just let me know when and where,” he said.
“Give me a couple days. My place next time. It’s near the hospital so that will be convenient for us both.”
“I’ll be there.”
There might have been eagerness in his tone or it could just be wishful thinking on her part. It had happened before. Once upon a time she’d mistaken his wanting her as a sign that he reciprocated her feelings because she’d so desperately hoped he would. Now she knew better, but knowing better didn’t stop the hitch in her breathing, the pumped-up pulse. If just thinking about sex made her feel like this, what would actual sex do?
Make a baby, she hoped.
And that would be the end of it. No strings attached. Love had made everything difficult, but she’d learned her lesson and wasn’t going there again. That ship had sailed. But attraction was a different story. She was still attracted to Nick and that was a good thing.
It would help when the time came to get her pregnant.
Several days later, at the appointed time, Nick knocked on Ryleigh’s door. Her place was on the second floor located in an apartment complex behind Mercy Medical Center. He’d just finished up evening rounds and his two patients were doing well. Barring complications, he expected to discharge them the next morning.
The anticipation of seeing his ex-wife tonight had hummed through him all day. He hadn’t missed her these last two years, not exactly. Every time the idea of it crept in, he shut the feeling down. But now that she was back, well it was safe to say he was in a pretty good mood. More than one person had commented on that today and it was probably not a coincidence that all of them were women.
The door opened, and there was the one woman who’d occupied more of his thoughts than he was comfortable with. “Ryleigh.”
“Hi, Nick. Come in.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. After he walked in, she shut it behind him. “This place is still a mess. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Not on my account.”
There were moving boxes stacked around the perimeter of the room and several on the dinette just off the kitchen. He stood in the living room with its charmless beige couch and matching chair. There was a faux-wood coffee table and matching end tables with ugly orange ceramic lamp, times two. “Don’t tell me. The place came furnished.”
“Pretty hideous, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words.”
But looking at Ryleigh cancelled out the unattractive stuff. In worn jeans that hugged her curves and a pale yellow sweater she was like a slice of sunshine. Her shiny hair was pulled back in a ponytail and gold hoops dangled from her ears. As good as his mood had been, it got better still, just staring at her.
She sighed. “I had delusions of actually cooking, but work and research got in the way. How do you feel about Chinese takeout?”
“I’m easy.”
“Good. The food cartons, plates and eating utensils are in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll get drinks. We’ll eat in here.”
He walked in the kitchen and saw all his favorite Chinese food on display. Spring rolls. Sweet and sour chicken. Chow mein. A fork and one set of chopsticks. He’d tried to teach her how to use them and smiled at the memory of flying food and her swearing. But that was then and this was now. Ryleigh and Nick, Part Two. Simple, uncomplicated sex. Guys would kill to be in his shoes.
He set his plate down on one of the paper towels on the coffee table. Place mats. How very Ryleigh of her. She brought him a club soda with lime.
“I figured you were on call.”
“Yeah.” He always was and it left no time for them when they were married.
“I’m not.”
She set a glass of white wine beside his drink and settled next to him on the couch. They ate in silence and it wasn’t awkward. It was nice. Felt like old times.
“How was your day?” she asked.
