Wilder Hearts. Karen Rose Smith

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making himself accessible to the entire staff. He’s also serving cake, which is chocolate, by the way.”

      Ella smiled. “My favorite. All right, let’s stop by and congratulate our new boss.”

      The solarium was located on the first floor and looked out onto the hospital gardens, which had just begun to bloom with various displays of red, yellow and pink buds.

      In the center of the room, Owen Randall, a stocky, fifty-something man with thinning silver hair, met Ella and Simone with a smile. He introduced himself, then handed them each a slice of cake. As he did so, the tip of his bright yellow-and-green tie dragged across the white, butter-cream frosting.

      “Oops. Would you look at that?” His jovial chuckle reverberated in the lounge. “Another tie bites the dust.”

      The ability to laugh at himself was a good sign, Simone decided. It would make working under him much easier.

      They made small talk with Dr. Randall, who seemed to be a friendly sort.

      Simone wondered if he’d do as well in the chief-of-staff position as the late Dr. James Wilder had. She hoped so. James had been a well-liked and respected physician who’d put quality patient care above all else.

      Since Ella and Simone were both on duty, they excused themselves, then carried their cake back to the nurses’ station.

      “There sure are a lot of changes going on around here,” Ella said as she took a seat behind the desk.

      “I know. I wonder if we’ll have cake again on Saturday, when Henry Weisfield officially steps down as the hospital administrator.”

      “It’s possible.” Ella dug her fork into her slice of the chocolaty concoction and took a bite, obviously relishing the sweet taste. “You know, J.D. applied for Henry’s job and…” She leaned in closer to Simone and lowered her voice. “From what we understand, he’s being seriously considered for the position.”

      “I’d heard that,” Simone said. “With J.D.’s business skills, I’m sure his chances of landing the administrator’s job are excellent.”

      “I’ve certainly got my fingers crossed,” Ella said.

      “I’ll bet they are.” Simone glanced at Ella, only to see she had indeed crossed the fingers on both hands, one of which—her left—sported a sparkling diamond ring.

      “Well, I’ll be darned. You’re engaged.”

      Ella beamed. “As of last night.”

      “Congratulations.”

      “Thanks.” Ella took another bite of cake, seeming to enjoy every morsel.

      Under usual circumstances, Simone would be doing the same. But the sugary taste wasn’t sitting too well, and she didn’t want to push herself or her sensitive stomach by eating any more than she already had.

      “How goes the puppy-sitting?” Ella asked.

      “So far, so good. Mike helps out a lot. But I’ll be glad when he finds a place of his own soon.”

      “That’s too bad. I was hoping that the two of you would hook up.”

      “Mike is, too.” And while Simone had begun to think his feelings for her might be genuine, she just couldn’t trust herself to be the kind of wife he expected and deserved.

      “It doesn’t surprise me that Mike is wishing for more. The guy’s definitely in love.” Ella scooped a dab of frosting from the top of her cake and popped it into her mouth. “And you’re not going to be able to convince me that lust has anything to do with the way that man looks at you.”

      Okay, so Simone had to admit that she’d seen the way Mike looked at her, too. And that it didn’t appear that he was only interested in sex.

      But how long would his affection and loving glances last?

      When would he look beyond her facade and see her for what she really was?

      For a moment, Simone was tempted to tell Ella about the pregnancy, about her decision to give the baby up for adoption. After all, assuming she was able to carry the baby to term, it would be public knowledge soon enough.

      She bit her tongue instead.

      One emotional revelation like that was a record for Simone.

      But two disclosures in less than a week?

      No way.

      The next person she told about her pregnancy would be the baby’s father, but she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him yet.

      Simone may have reached a decision she could live with, but she didn’t have a clue how to drop the bomb on Mike.

       Chapter Seven

      Late Thursday morning, after Mike met with Leif’s sister and looked at a three-story Victorian-style home on Maple, he stopped by the New England Ranch Market. The trendy grocery store, a favorite of the locals, offered farm-fresh eggs, organic vegetables and an old-fashioned butcher shop that cut meat to order.

      While pushing his cart through the aisles, he picked up a couple of chicken breasts, some red potatoes, fixings for a salad and the special ingredients needed for his killer vinaigrette dressing. Then, before heading to the checkout line, he stopped by the bakery section and picked up a lemon meringue pie—his favorite.

      The guys in the department took turns with kitchen duty, and Mike, who’d had no experience cooking at all when he’d first been hired, had to ask his mom to teach him how to prepare some of his favorite family meals. He’d even picked up a few culinary tricks from some of his coworkers and, while not what you’d call a pro, he knew how to fix a decent spread.

      Now, as he climbed from his Jeep Wrangler, Woofer barked at the fence. Mike had a feeling it was more of a “Welcome back” than a “Don’t even think about trespassing” announcement. Either way, little Wags followed suit.

      It was kind of cool that the puppy had the watchdog lessons down pat. Too bad he wasn’t doing as well when it came to getting housebroken.

      Once on Simone’s front porch, Mike shuffled the two grocery bags he held in his arms so he could ring the bell. He hoped Simone was okay with what he planned to do.

      He had a key, so he could let himself in, but Simone wasn’t working today, and he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

      She answered the door in her robe. Her hair was wrapped in a white towel turban, her scent powdery fresh with a hint of shampoo, soap and a citrusy body lotion that he’d grown accustomed to.

      Damn, she sure smelled good.

      But it had to be nearly noon. The times he’d spent the night on her sofa, she’d always showered first thing.

      “Did you just wake up?” he asked.

      “I wasn’t feeling…” She cleared her throat. “Well,

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