BEAU TOOK A QUICK shower, pulled on pajama bottoms, grabbed bottled water out of the refrigerator, and flopped onto the sofa. He wasn’t hungry so he didn’t bother with food. Picking up the remote control, he found a basketball game and settled in for the night. He kept his mind a blank, concentrating on the plays instead of what he had to do tomorrow—tell Macy goodbye.
The sound of the phone ringing woke him. Opening one eye, he looked at his watch—2:00 a.m. Who was calling this late? He quickly clicked off the TV and yanked up the phone.
“Beau, Delia’s in labor. Could you please drive us to the hospital? I’m too nervous.”
“Sure,” he answered without a second thought. “I’ll bring the car to your front door. Be there in a minute.”
He slipped into jeans and a T-shirt. Within minutes he was parked in front of Macy’s condo. She came out holding on to Delia and Beau hurried to help. He hadn’t seen Delia in a while and she looked as bad as he’d ever seen her.
“Hey, Beau,” Delia said in between groans.
“Delia.” He took her arm. “Doesn’t look like you’re feeling too good.”
“Got knocked up. Can you believe that?” A desperate laugh escaped on a moan.
“Yep.”
Delia laughed. “At least you’re honest.” She clutched her stomach and cried out in pain. Between the two of them they managed to get Delia into the backseat. Macy sat with her and Beau crawled into the driver’s seat. They sped toward the nearest emergency room.
Delia continued to scream with pain.
“Take deep breaths,” Macy instructed.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Delia snapped. “You know I hate it when you do that. And I’m not in labor. It’s too early.” She let out an earth-shattering scream that said otherwise. “Dammit. I can’t have this baby now. Macy, do something. You’re a nurse. Make it stop.”
“We’ll be at the hospital in a minute,” Macy replied in a calm voice, but Beau caught a thread of panic in her tone.
“I can’t have this baby now. Macy, do you hear me?”
“Yes. People three blocks away can hear you. Calm down.”
“Dammit, this hurts.”
Beau pulled into the emergency area and a nurse was waiting with a wheelchair. Evidently Macy had called ahead. Smart woman.
“Beau, thanks,” Macy called as the nurse wheeled Delia away.
He drove around, looking for a parking spot. What was he doing? He should go home and let Macy handle her own life. When he left for Dallas, she would have to. This is where he drew the fictional line in the sand. This is where he walked away.
But Beau had learned something about himself. He couldn’t leave a person in need. His mother raised him to be kind and caring and he wasn’t the type to abandon a friend.
He hated himself for that—for caring too much. Nice guys finished last. Isn’t that what they said?
In the maternity ward, he looked around but didn’t see them. A door opened and Macy, dressed in scrubs, came out talking to a doctor. She noticed him and immediately came over.
“Beau, I thought you’d gone home.”
“No. I wanted to make sure Delia was okay.”
“As much as she denies it, she’s in labor. She’s dilated ten centimeters and it shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Isn’t the baby early?”
“Yes. But who knows? Delia could be further along than she realizes.” Macy tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. Beau noticed her hair was tamed and clipped behind her head. “I’ve asked about the father and all she’ll say is that he’s not in the picture anymore.”
“That explains why she showed up at your house.”
“Mmm.”
“She knows you’ll take care of her and the baby.”
“Yeah. She keeps muttering something about a plan and I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about. When I ask about her plans for the baby, she gets angry.” She glanced toward the hall. “They’re giving her an epidural so I better get back in there. I want to be present when the baby arrives.”
“I’ll wait out here.”
She gave a warm smile that felt as soothing as a towel fresh from the dryer. “Go home. I’m sorry I bothered you, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
“No problem.” He eased onto a sofa in the waiting area. “Let me know when the baby comes.”
“Beau…”
“What?”
“Go home. You can’t rest here.”
“I’ve slept on worse.” He leaned his head on the cushion. “Go back to your sister.”
“You’re a special man, Beau McCain.”
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes. “I’ll remind you of that one of these days.”
Her lips brushed his forehead and his eyes flew open. The scent of her filled his nostrils—lilacs and fresh soap—and for a moment he was lost in the sensation. But damn, his mother kissed him like that. He didn’t want those kind of kisses from Macy. He wanted the real thing.
Macy disappeared around the corner and he made himself as comfortable as he could on the hardest sofa he’d ever slept on. He stared up at the ceiling, sleep the furthest thing from his mind. Here he was with Macy because that’s where he wanted to be. He blew out a hard breath, knowing he was in so deep that putting distance between himself and Macy was not going to make a difference.
Why was he trying to fool himself?
BEAU NAPPED ON AND OFF. At six he stretched and went in search of coffee. A nurse finally gave him a cup. As he sipped it, he saw Macy down the hall talking to a doctor. He walked over and realized she wasn’t talking, but arguing in a way he’d never seen her do before.
“I insist you run a full battery of tests,” she was saying.
“I’ve been doing this a long time and in my opinion I feel it’s unnecessary,” the doctor replied.
“I want the tests done,” Macy repeated in a stubborn voice Beau knew well. Evidently the doctor did, too.
“Fine, Macy. Just calm down and let me do my job.” The doctor strolled away to the nursery.
“What’s wrong?” Beau asked.
“The birth went smoothly and the baby seemed fine. But when we checked her in the nursery we detected a low-pitched intermittent inspiratory
