“Is that a pager?” Harper asked. “I didn’t know anybody still used those; I thought they disappeared with rotary phones and conscription.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “Most hospitals still use them, they’re more reliable than cell phones.” He slid it back into his pocket. “Sorry, force of habit.”
“It’s okay. You’re working. It must be important if they paged.”
“I’m waiting for some history to come through for a patient in the ER. Hopefully this is it.”
“I should go anyway,” Harper said, her eyes meeting his once more. “Caitie will be wondering where I am. It’s been a hell of a day. Thanks for talking to me. I just thought you should know.”
She turned to leave, her cascades of hair undulating with the movement. The pink and blonde caught the light from the overhead fluorescents, shining brightly.
“Wait!” he called out, reaching for her arm. His fingers slowly closed over her bicep. Her skin was so damn soft. The touch sent a shot of pleasure through his body. “Where can I find you? Where are you staying at?”
She turned, her eyes wide, her full lips parted. “I’m staying with Caitie and her boyfriend while I get settled. After that, I’m hoping to find a place of my own.”
He swallowed hard. The mixture of emotions flowing through him were making him dizzy. Shock, regret… and a nagging deep down in his gut that he needed to see her again. And soon.
“Let me get your number.” He reached for his phone right as his pager buzzed a second time. He grimaced, his eyes meeting hers. Without saying a word, she took the device from him and keyed her number in, passing it back so he could slide it into his pocket. “Maybe we can meet some time and talk?”
“Yeah, sure.” Harper nodded.
“I’ve got some days off next week. Would that work?”
The door to the break room opened and a nurse walked in. “There you are,” she said to James. “The charge nurse has been trying to get ahold of you. She has your patient’s doctor on the line. They’re waiting to speak to you.”
“I’ll go,” Harper said softly. “I hope your patient is okay.” She gave him the ghost of a smile. “Thanks again for talking with me.”
This time she really left, and he watched her for a moment, taking in her confident stride, her strong posture, and sexy-as-hell body.
A body that had his baby inside it.
His baby. Damn.
* * *
“Ow!” Harper pulled her finger away from the needle and slid it between her lips, tasting the bead of blood escaping from the tiny puncture wound. She was used to stabbing herself on needles and pins by now – it was an occupational hazard – but she still marveled at how much a tiny prick could hurt.
And of course the thought made her want to giggle.
She’d been home from the hospital for four hours, but instead of resting like Caitie had insisted, she’d managed to finish the last of that week’s Etsy orders. Five custom-made fifties-style dresses, each of which she had charged over two hundred dollars for. Taking away the cost of the materials, that was a profit of seven hundred dollars that week. Not bad, but nowhere near what she needed to make to be able to afford her own place, or buy all the baby things she’d need.
Plus there was the small matter of sleep. Each dress took around ten hours to make, and where she could cope with the long days right now, she was sensible enough to realize that as she got closer to her due date, exhaustion would be sure to kick in. And after the baby arrived she’d be even worse.
She needed a job; preferably one with medical benefits. Because right now she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There was a rap at the door.
“Come in,” she called out. A second later, Caitie pushed it open and stepped into what used to be her spare room and what now comprised Harper’s bedroom and workroom combined. “Hey,” Harper greeted her friend. “How’s Ember?”
Caitie sat down on Harper’s unmade bed, curling her legs up beneath her and leaning her back on the wall. “She’s fine. We managed to clear up the Beach Club and get all her gifts to her house, but she was already asleep when we got there.” She picked up a remnant of fabric Harper hadn’t yet thrown out, sliding the satin between her fingers. “How are you doing?” she asked. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the hospital.”
“Since I spoke to James, you mean?” Harper said, a half-smile curling her lips.
“I can’t believe it was James. I should have known from your description. Dark hair, blue eyes.” Caitie shook her head. “All this time we thought he was just some stranger. Instead it’s a guy I’ve known since I was a baby.” She raised her eyebrows at Harper. “How did he take it?”
“About as well as you could expect. He looked shocked.” Harper grimaced at the memory. “But that’s understandable. I was pretty shocked myself when I found out.” She leaned her head on her upturned palm, her elbow resting on her sewing desk. “He wanted to know how it happened, how far along I am, whether he was definitely the father.” She shrugged. “The usual.”
“There’s a usual?” Caitie asked. “Who knew? So what happens next?”