Daddy On Call. Judy Duarte

tells me you didn’t get much rest.”

      She shrugged a shoulder and offered him a shy hula-girl smile. “You’re right. I didn’t sleep well.”

      He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go with that, since she was certainly able to determine her needs on her own. But neither could he completely ignore her statement. “Are you staying with your aunt?”

      “Yes, we’ve been…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been visiting her, and we’ve been catching up.”

      “Does she still live at the Eberly Arms? From what I remember, it used to get pretty loud there.”

      “It’s not so bad anymore, but last night Aunt Addie had a spell that worried me. So I woke up periodically to check on her.”

      Unable to quell his curiosity—professional or otherwise—he asked, “What kind of spell?”

      “She has diabetes and her blood sugar level dropped. It took me a while to figure out she needed a glass of orange juice.”

      “Is she under regular medical care?”

      Leilani nodded. “Yes, but since I arrived I’ve noticed that she gets a little…forgetful sometimes. I’m afraid she might not be checking her sugar level regularly or taking her insulin properly. So I have her doctor’s number and plan to give him a call once his office opens.”

      They stood there awhile, sexual attraction—at least on his part—buzzing and sparking like a high voltage wire downed by a storm. Her scent, something floral and springtime fresh, mingling with buzzing pheromones, drew him to her. He tried his best to ignore it, but he wasn’t having any luck.

      “Now I have another reason to stick around for a while,” she said, “so I called my office this afternoon and requested a leave of absence. I’m going to stay with Aunt Addie until I can be sure she’s following her doctor’s orders and until Carrie recovers.”

      Luke didn’t mention that the jury was still out on Carrie’s full recovery. “By the way, I’m not sure if you’ve heard. Her boyfriend was arraigned and charged with attempted murder.”

      “I’m glad to hear it.”

      “There’s also been talk about taking the baby early,” Luke added, revealing what he’d learned earlier.

      “Have they scheduled the birth?”

      “No. They’re still waiting. At this point, each day the baby stays in the womb, the better chance he has.”

      “I told you that Carrie asked me to look after him if something…happened to her.” Leilani tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a pearl earring much like June Cleaver would have worn.

      “You’ll make a great mom,” he told her, meaning every word.

      Her lips parted as though she meant to respond, then she clamped them shut.

      “How about a cup of coffee?” he asked. “Maybe breakfast?”

      “No thanks. I’d better pass. Besides, your fan club probably doesn’t need to see us together.”

      He shifted his weight to one foot and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

      Something that resembled humor glimmered in her eyes. “Several of the nurses think you’re pretty hot. And they’re eager to join the ranks of your notable conquests.”

      He was aware of that, but for some reason it embarrassed him to have Leilani privy to idle chat, speculation and rumor. “I don’t make a habit of dating the women I work with.”

      The humor disappeared from her gaze, and skepticism took its place. “Oh no?”

      He doubted Bethany had been talking to anyone. The reason he’d dated her in the first place had to do with her ability to be discreet and the fact she didn’t seem to play the games some of the others did. “If there’s been talk, it’s not true.”

      “Aw, come on, Luke.” She crossed her arms, facing off with him in a way that made her appear a lot taller than her five-foot-four stature. “I’m not buying that.”

      “Why not?”

      “I’ve kissed you before, Doctor. And I have every reason to believe your nickname wasn’t fabricated.”

      Feeling both flattered and called on the carpet at the same time, he arched a brow. “My nickname?”

      “Hot Lips.” Then she uncrossed her arms and swept through the lobby, leaving him to ponder the heated, breath-stealing kisses they used to share.

      And the fact she didn’t believe he’d lost his touch.

      

      The next day Luke was off duty. After getting his minimum required sleep, he made a call to the hospital and managed to get Leilani’s cell number, which she’d left as a contact on Carrie’s chart.

      He hoped to convince her to have dinner with him that evening. Nothing fancy. Maybe someplace by the ocean, where they could sit outside and watch the waves roll in. He did his best thinking outdoors, where walls didn’t close in on him.

      A seaside café is also romantic, a small voice whispered.

      Too damn bad, he answered. He wasn’t going to try and impress her with candles and wine. He just needed to talk to her—out in the open air. And far from a hospital setting.

      If Kami crept into the conversation, so be it. It was time for her to hear Luke’s side of the story. To realize he hadn’t meant for any of it to happen.

      But when he dialed her number, her voice mail answered on the first ring, which made him suspect she’d turned off her cell.

      Odd.

      He showered, shaved and threw on a pair of jeans and a light blue button-down shirt. All the while, he struggled with the idea of just showing up at her aunt’s place and talking to her in person.

      An hour later, he gave up the fight and drove to Eberly Arms Apartments, where Leilani had said she was staying. Once he parked his black Expedition in the garage, he took the elevator up to the fourth floor. It might have been twelve years, but he still remembered exactly where her aunt lived.

      Apartment 4-E.

      The building hadn’t changed much, just grown faded and run-down. It was quiet though. No one loitering in the halls.

      He pushed the bell, although he didn’t hear a buzz or a ring. So he followed it with a knock, then waited for someone to answer.

      God, he hoped it was Leilani. Her aunt had never made any bones about her low opinion of him—even before Kami died—so he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her now.

      The door opened, revealing a dark-haired boy who appeared to be about twelve.

      Oops. Maybe the old memory wasn’t as good as he thought it was. He glanced at the number on the door. He could have sworn it was 4-E. Leilani had mentioned her aunt lived in the same place, but maybe she’d moved into another apartment in the complex.

      “I’m looking for Leilani Stephens,” he told the boy. “Is she staying here?”

      “Yeah.” The boy turned and yelled into the living room. “Mom, some guy wants to talk to you!”

      Mom?

      Although stunned, Luke couldn’t help scanning the kid from the top of his dark brown hair to the white socks on his feet.

      Leilani hadn’t said squat about having a kid. And the fact that this one was about eleven or twelve set off all kinds of bells and whistles in Luke’s brain.

      “Yes?” Leilani entered the room and approached the door. When their gazes met, recognition dawned and her face paled.

      She was obviously surprised to see him, but something else in her expression suggested