and Easton couldn’t figure out what that was. His brother had been married before and had loved his wife, mourned her deeply when she’d died. Still, Easton hadn’t felt he’d lost a part of his brother then, not like now.
So yeah, he wasn’t ready to share yet.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with his brother.
And everything to do with Portia.
* * *
Up until realizing she was pregnant, the most anxiety-inducing moments in Portia’s life had been when she’d fretted about taking care of her brother and paying bills.
This morning had combined all of her anxieties. Her secret pregnancy coupled with arriving to work a half hour late. She’d been sick for what felt like hours and it had thrown her off schedule. Portia was never, ever late. Tardiness drove her insane. Since the morning sickness seemed to be getting significantly worse, she might have to move up her appointment with the doctor to next week. That made her stomach flip all the more since it would mean facing the uncomfortable reality of having to tell Easton.
Dr. Lourdes.
Her boss.
Damn.
Refocus. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Easton’s schedule needed to be organized for the day. That wouldn’t happen if she didn’t collect herself right now. Tugging on the sleeves of her light pink cardigan, she stepped into the office, ready to do prep work for Easton’s arrival.
Blinking in the harsh white light, her tumultuous stomach sank. Easton sat behind his desk, already at work.
His collar-length dark hair was slicked back, blue eyes alert and focused on a stack of papers in front of him, full lips tightly pressed as he thought.
She drew in a sharp breath, another wave of nausea and dizziness pressing at her. He looked up from his desk, his clean-shaven face crinkled in a mixture of concern and...surprise? She realized he was the one all put together this morning and she was the one feeling scattered and disorganized.
This sudden reversal robbed her of her focus. His eyes traced over her, his head falling to the side in concern.
“Are you okay? It’s just—you are never late. In fact, you arrive to everything at least fifteen minutes early.” He set his pen down, eyes peering into hers.
She swallowed, her throat pressing against the top button of her off-white button-up shirt and her strand of faux pearls. Part of her wanted to lean on him, confide in him and get his support. But how? She didn’t have much practice in asking for help.
“Uh.” Stammering, her mind blanked. “Yeah. I just... I think I may have the stomach flu. I haven’t felt this bad in ages.”
She put a hand to her stomach as if to emphasize her symptoms. But really, her palm on her stomach just reminded her of the life growing inside her and how difficult telling Easton was going to be.
“I think that is going around. Maureen called out with the same symptoms. Should you go rest?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got crackers and ginger ale on hand. Anyway, how’s our little patient doing this morning, Doctor?” She added the last part to keep a professional distance between them.
“Walking around, even attempting to take flight. X-rays show no breaks in the wings and there are no missing feathers, so I’m guessing it’s a strained muscle that will benefit from rest. Then back into the wild.” He ran his hands through his hair, his athletic build accented with the movement.
“That’s good to know. Your risky climb saved his—or her—life.”
“His,” he answered simply.
Oppressive silence settled between them. She hated this. There had been a time, not even that long ago, where conversation had felt easy and natural between them. But since the tropical storm, she’d looked for every reason to put distance between them. This morning was no different. “If you’re busy with patients, then I’ll get to some transcriptions.”
“Actually, I’m not busy with patients. Let the transcriptions wait.” His voice dropped any pretense of nonchalance. Determination entered his tone.
“Okay. But why?”
“Let’s talk.”
Every atom in her being revolted. Talk? How could she begin to talk to him? She wasn’t ready. She needed more time.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t talk. We work.” She fished the planner out of her oversize bag and waved it in the air.
“I think talking is an excellent idea.” A small, hungry smile passed over his lips, blue eyes shining with familiar mischief.
Why did he have to be so damn sexy?
“Please, don’t make things more awkward than—”
“Go out with me on a date.”
A date? With Dr. Easton Lourdes? The world slammed still. “A what?”
“A date, where two people spend time together at some entertaining venue. Tomorrow’s not a workday, so it can be afternoon or evening. I don’t want to presume what you would enjoy because honestly, you’re right, we haven’t spoken very much. So for our date, what do you think about a wine-tasting cruise?”
She couldn’t drink, not while pregnant. She winced.
“Okay,” Easton said, moving from behind his desk, “from the look on your face I’ll take that as a no. Concert in the park with a picnic? Go snorkeling? Or take a drive down to the tip of the Keys and hang out at Hemingway’s old house or climb to the top of the Key West Lighthouse?”
“You’re serious about wanting to go on a date?” What would she have thought if he’d made that request months ago? Or if she weren’t pregnant now? What if he’d made that request when she had the luxury of time to explore the possibility of feelings between them?
Except she didn’t have time.
He sat on the edge of his desk, a devilish look in his eyes. “Serious as a heart attack.”
She could see by his face he meant it. Totally. He wanted to go on a date with her. She’d spent two years attracted to him while never acting on it in order to maintain her independence and now—when the last thing she should be doing was starting an affair with him—he was asking her out.
Her emotions were clouding her judgment. Their impulsive night of sex had flipped her mind upside down. Their attraction was every bit as combustible as she’d expected. It had stolen her breath, her sanity. She’d even entertained pursuing something with him. For a moment, she’d not cared one whit about her independence. But fears had assailed her the next morning. Heaven knew if he’d suggested a date then, she would have run screaming into the Everglades, never to be seen again.
Okay, maybe that was overstating things. Or maybe not.
But it did bring up the point that now, things were different. She really did need to talk to him soon and come up with a plan
