Two Doctors and A Baby. Brenda Harlen

why didn’t you knock on her door?” he challenged.

      She traced the base of her glass with her finger. “Because a part of me was afraid she’d refuse to give a recommendation...and another part was afraid she would give it.”

      He shook his head. “Every time I think I have you figured out, you say or do something that surprises me.”

      “I don’t need you to understand me—I just need a letter.”

      “I can’t give you that without some understanding of who you are and whether or not you’ll fit in with the rest of the staff.”

      She slid off her seat. “Then I guess I should be going.”

      He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the door. “Why Charisma? Why Mercy?”

      “Why not?”

      “You didn’t come here just for a job.”

      She met his gaze evenly. “I have family here.”

      “Speaking of family, what do Patrick and Connor think of your decision to move to North Carolina?”

      Her eyes narrowed at the mention of her brothers. “What do you know about Patrick and Connor?”

      “Quite a lot, actually,” he told her. “Patrick is twenty-seven, single and a deputy in the Echo Ridge sheriff’s department. Connor is twenty-eight, a graduate of the Thurgood Marshall School of Law currently employed as a prosecuting attorney, which is probably why he’s trying to keep his relationship with a certain young woman who works as a public defender under wraps.”

      “You had my family investigated?” she demanded, her question filled with icy fury.

      “Does that bother you?” he challenged. “Does it seem wrong that some stranger could come along and meddle in the lives of the people who matter the most to you?”

      “Touché, Dr. Garrett.” She reached past him to pick up her glass and tossed back the rest of her wine. “I guess that means I’m not going to get a recommendation.”

      “I’m not saying no,” he told her. Because he was a firm believer in the old adage about keeping friends close and enemies closer, and he wasn’t yet sure which category his half sister fit into. “I just want some more information.”

      “My life’s an open book—and one that you’ve apparently already read.”

      He ignored her sarcasm. “Can you meet me at the hospital tomorrow?”

      “What time?”

      “Two o’clock. By the fountain in the courtyard.”

      She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

      He followed her back to the foyer and plucked her coat off the hook just as another knock sounded. Since no one had buzzed from the lobby, he assumed that it was probably Lianne from across the hall. For a woman who was always baking something—muffins or cookies or banana bread—it baffled him that his neighbor never had all of the ingredients she needed. His brother, Ryan, liked to tease that Lianne asking to borrow sugar was code for her wanting to give him some sugar, but her flirtations were mostly harmless.

      But when he opened up the door, it wasn’t Lianne on the other side. It was Avery Wallace.

      “You’re on your way out,” she said, noting the coat in his hand.

      He shook his head. “It’s not mine.”

      Her eyes flickered past him to Nora, then to the island with the bottle of wine and two glasses. Her color went frosty and her tone, when she spoke again, had chilled by several degrees. “I’m sorry—I obviously should have called first.”

      He turned to hand the coat to Nora, whose gaze was openly curious as it shifted from him to his new guest and back again. Clearly she was hoping for an introduction, but he wasn’t inclined to make it.

      “I’ll talk to you later,” Avery said, already turning away.

      He caught her arm. “You can stay. Nora’s on her way out.”

      Thankfully, Nora didn’t have to be told twice. She slipped past him. “I’ll see you at two o’clock tomorrow.”

      He nodded, pulling Avery through the door before closing it.

      She tugged her arm out of his grasp, looking uncertain and slightly disapproving. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

      “I don’t know,” he said mildly. “How young is too young to be my sister?”

      “Your—” she looked back at the door through which Nora had departed “—sister?”

      He nodded.

      She frowned. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

      “Neither did I until seven months ago.”

      “Sounds like there’s a story there,” she mused.

      “I’d tell you about it sometime, but you barely stick around long enough to finish a consult never mind an actual conversation.”

      She flushed but did not respond.

      “So why are you here?” he asked. And then, because he couldn’t resist ruffling her feathers a bit, he said “Did you come to count the notches on my bedposts?”

      She sent him a scathing look. “You said you don’t have bedposts.”

      “Because I don’t,” he confirmed. “Which I’d be happy to prove to you if you come down the hall with me and—”

      She cut him off by shoving an envelope against his chest. “This is why I’m here.”

      He held her gaze for a long minute before he opened the flap and pulled out a single page. He immediately recognized the logo of Charisma Medical Laboratories at the top, then saw her name in the “patient name” box. “What is this?”

      “You did get that MD behind your name from medical school, didn’t you?”

      “Okay, I guess what I should have asked is ‘why is this?’”

      “New Year’s Eve.”

      His brows lifted.

      She huffed out a breath. “I should have figured you’d make me spell it out. We didn’t just have sex, Garrett. We had unprotected sex.”

      Justin nodded soberly. While he had no objections to casual sex, he was never careless about protection. Not since that one time when he was a teenager. That one time—one forgotten condom and one terrifying pregnancy false alarm—had been enough to scare the bejesus out of him and make him swear that he would never be caught unprepared again.

      And he never had—until he’d found himself in a hospital supply closet with Avery. Then everything had happened so fast, and his desperate need for her had overridden everything else.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, because although the words were grossly inadequate they were also true.

      “Obviously neither of us was thinking clearly that night or what happened between us never would have happened,” she said.

      He wondered how it was that—despite all the other thoughts screaming in his head—he could be amused by such a prim remark delivered in her characteristically cool tone. Wanting to shake some of that cool, he stepped closer to her.

      “We had sex, Avery. Incredible...mind-blowing...ground-shaking sex.”

      “I was there,” she acknowledged, her gaze remaining fixed on the ceramic tile floor. “I know what happened.”

      He tipped her chin up. “So why can’t you say it?”

      She jerked her head away. “Because I’m embarrassed.”

      “Why?”