Maitland Maternity: Triplets, Quads and Quints. Kasey Michaels

understood completely. “Don’t worry. Not much longer and you can eat them, too.”

      She sighed and was so tempted to lean her head on his strong shoulders that she stiffened.

      “So, how long are you planning on working?”

      She looked up in surprise. “I’m going home. I said I would.”

      “No, I mean, how long before you go on maternity leave?”

      “I’m going on maternity leave when I go into la- bor.” Her voice was crisp, as if there was no room for discussion.

      He frowned at her. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

      “My doctor and I have discussed my decision and she agrees with me. And it’s none of your business.” He acted as though he should have a vote in her decision. She hadn’t seen the man in seven months. Even then she’d only spent seven or eight hours with him.

      “Maybe not, but as a medical professional—”

      “Don’t expect me to bow down. I work with medical professionals every day. While I respect your work, that does not make you God!”

      The waitress returned with their food. She also brought a glass of milk. “I forgot, Dr. Abby said for you to drink milk at every meal. Remember? Shelby says it’s on the house,” she added with a smile before heading back to the kitchen.

      “Nice place,” Hunter said without actually commenting on the milk. “Who is Shelby?”

      Briana took another deep breath. She’d planned to have her glass of milk at bedtime, but she guessed she’d have it now. Sometimes she thought everyone in Austin intended to supervise her babies’ arrival. “She’s the owner of the diner, and sort of family to the Maitlands.”

      “Sort of?”

      “They’re like cousins.”

      “Okay.” Then, as if they were really friends, he began telling her about his day, very innocuous stories that began to soothe her without her even realizing it. If anyone had said she’d share dinner with Hunter Callaghan and enjoy it, she’d have laughed in their faces. Especially about ten o’clock this morning.

      By the time she’d finished her milk, vegetables and chicken, Hunter had cleaned his plate. “Very good food. I can tell I’ll be eating here often,” he said with a smile.

      “Not much of a cook?”

      “I can manage, but usually I put in long hours and I’m just too tired to want to cook. I suspect that happens to you, too. Everyone I talked to today mentioned what long hours you worked.”

      “Not lately. Abby’s pretty strict with me.”

      “Good. I want my girls taken care of.”

      He said those words so casually, as if they both knew these babies were his. But she’d told him they weren’t. “These are not your girls! They’re mine. All mine.”

      “You shouldn’t be so greedy, Bri. You’re getting three. Surely you can share.” His smile had a teasing tilt to it, but Bri didn’t see anything to laugh about.

      “I told you you’re not the father!”

      “A little louder and the rumors will be flying tomorrow.”

      He was right. She had forgotten where she was. And she was letting him upset her again. She drew another deep breath. “I need to go home now.”

      “As soon as I pay, we can go.”

      “I can pay for my meal, Doctor. And I don’t need you to see me home. I’m perfectly fine now.”

      He gave her a steady look before saying, “Okay, you can drive home. I’ll just follow you to be sure you get there all right.”

      “Ohhh! You’re worse than Caleb!”

      “Who’s Caleb?” he demanded sharply.

      “My baby brother. He thought he should start driving me back and forth from work. But Abby assured him I could manage a while longer.”

      The waitress came over to offer dessert, but Hunter gave her his credit card instead, saying they needed to go.

      She rushed away, anxious to impress the doctor with her efficiency before Bri even protested.

      She pulled a ten-dollar bill out of her purse and shoved it at him. “I said I’d pay for my meal.”

      To her surprise, he accepted the ten and folded it, stuffing it in his dress shirt pocket. “Okay, Miss Independent. Ready?” he asked as the waitress had him sign the receipt. Then he slid out of the booth and offered her a hand.

      She started to refuse his help just to be rude, but it wasn’t easy to slide out of the booth with both her and the girls, so she let him help her.

      She was startled, however, when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered urgently.

      “Escorting you home, just as I said,” he responded, as if his behavior was normal.

      “Take your arm down!” she urged, still whispering, not wanting to make a scene in front of people she knew.

      “I just thought you could use a little support.” He immediately did as she requested, however, which pacified her.

      When they got outside, she said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, but tomorrow there will already be a lot of talk about us eating together. If you appear too friendly, they’ll think—never mind. Let’s just keep our dealings on a business level.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Well, thank you for—for having dinner with me. I’ll see you around nine, when it’s convenient.”

      “Right.”

      She started off in the direction of her car, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he fell into step beside her.

      “What are you doing?” she demanded.

      “Walking you to your car.”

      “I told you that’s not necessary.”

      “Honey, even if you weren’t pregnant with triplets, my mother would disagree with you. She was very strict about how we treated women, my brother and me. I have no choice, or she’ll never let me sleep tonight.”

      She remembered him mentioning his mother when she’d suggested he sit and she stand in the storeroom. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want your sleep to be interrupted tonight!” she snapped.

      “I knew you wouldn’t,” he agreed with a smile. “Do your feet swell these days?”

      She considered telling him it was none of his business, but it seemed simpler to just say, “Yes.”

      “When we get to your place, I’ll give you a foot massage. I’m pretty good at those.”

      As heavenly as that sounded, and only a very pregnant woman would appreciate the sacrifice she now made, she refused his offer.

      “Don’t worry,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I enjoy giving foot massages. Maybe I have a foot fetish. You can give me your opinion afterward.”

      He was teasing her and she knew it. She wanted to laugh and tease him back, but the last time she’d decided to quit trying to be strong and lean on Hunter, she’d ended up pregnant. Not something she wanted to try a second time. He’d broken her heart once. She wasn’t going to risk her heart—or her girls—again. She’d been raised to be strong, to compete with her brothers. She mustn’t forget.

      When they reached her car, she said, “Thanks again for the escort. I’ll see you in the morning.”

      “Now, honey, quit trying to ignore the foot thing. My car just happens to be right over there. If you’ll