Two Doctors and A Baby. Brenda Harlen

levels. He nodded to Avery and, after confirming that her patient could feel nothing, she drew the scalpel across her swollen abdomen.

      A planned caesarean usually took between five and ten minutes from first cut until the baby was lifted out. In an emergency situation like this one, an experienced doctor could perform the procedure in about two minutes.

      Dr. Terrence—who had scrubbed in to assist—worked to keep the surgical field clean, swabbing with gauze and holding the incision open while she worked. They were approaching the two-minute mark when she reached into the uterus. Clear fluid gushed around her gloved hand as she cradled the small skull in her palm and carefully guided the head, then the shoulders, out of the opening.

      Her hands didn’t shake as she lifted the baby out of the mother’s womb. Her hands never shook when she was under the hot lights of an operating or delivery room. She didn’t let herself feel any pressure or emotion while she was focused on a task. Her unflappable demeanor was, she knew, only one reason some of the staff referred to her as “Wall-ice.”

      The baby’s color was good, and when Avery wiped his mouth with gauze and gently squeezed his nostrils, she was immediately rewarded with a soft cry.

      “Is that—” Camryn’s voice hitched. “Is that my baby?”

      “That’s your baby,” Avery confirmed.

      “He’s a boy,” Callie told her sister, watching with misty eyes as the cord was clamped and cut. “You have a beautiful, perfect baby boy.”

      “I want to see him,” the new mother said.

      “You will—in just a moment.”

      “Seven pounds, five ounces, nineteen inches,” another nurse announced from the corner of the operating room, after the newborn had been wiped, weighed and swaddled.

      Camryn wiped at a tear that spilled onto her cheek as the baby was placed in her arms. “Where’s Brad? I want to see him. I want him to see our baby.”

      “He’ll be here as soon as he can,” Callie soothed.

      While the nurse and her sister talked quietly, Avery continued to work, suturing up each layer of abdominal tissue. But even as she focused on her task, she was thinking of the awe and wonder on Camryn’s face when she saw her baby for the first time—and immediately fell in love with him. Avery had seen it happen countless times, but it never failed to tug at her own heart.

      Half an hour later, when she finally left the new mom with her baby, she again crossed paths with Dr. Garrett in the hall.

      “How’s dad?” she asked, referring to the baby’s father whom he’d been working on in the adjacent room.

      “Aside from two broken ribs, a punctured lung, mild concussion and a head laceration that required twenty-two stitches to close, he’s doing just fine.”

      “Twenty-two stitches? I just put in more than twice that number and delivered a baby.”

      “Competitive, aren’t you?” Though his tone was teasing, his smile was weak.

      “Maybe a little,” she acknowledged.

      “Boy or girl?”

      “Boy.”

      He slung a companionable arm across her shoulders as they headed down the hall. “Good work, Wallace.”

      “You, too, Garrett.”

      They walked together in silence for a few minutes, until Avery caught him stifling a yawn. “I imagine it’s been a very long night for you,” she said.

      “It’s New Year’s Eve,” he reminded her.

      “Was,” she corrected.

      He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “What?”

      “It’s after midnight now.” Afterward, she would wonder what caused her to throw caution and common sense to the wind. But in the moment, it seemed perfectly natural to lift herself onto her toes and touch her lips to his cheek. “Happy New Year.”

      She could tell he was as startled by the impulsive gesture as she was, but when he looked at her, she saw something more than surprise in his eyes. Something that made her heart pound harder and faster, that made her weary body ache and yearn. Something that warned her she’d taken the first step down an intriguing—and potentially dangerous—path.

      He took the next step, pulling open the nearest door—to a housekeeping supply closet—and tugging her inside. She didn’t balk or protest. For more than three years, they’d danced around the attraction between them. They weren’t dancing anymore.

      “Happy New Year,” he echoed, then crushed his mouth down on hers.

       Chapter Two

      His kiss was hot and hungry and demanding. She kissed him back, just as hotly and hungrily, responding to his every demand and meeting them with her own. If she’d been able to think clearly—if she’d been able to think at all—she might have drawn back. But the moment his lips touched hers, all rational thought slipped from her mind. In fact, her brain seemed to have shut down completely, letting the hormones that flooded through her veins lead the way.

      And they were leading her to a very happy place. A place where his hands were all over her, touching and teasing, giving her so much pleasure and still making her want so much more.

      He eased his lips away from hers. “I like the sparkly things in your hair, Wallace—they really dress up your scrubs.”

      “What?” She frowned as she reached up, startled to realize that her hair was in a fancy twist instead of her usual ponytail. So much had happened since she’d left home, she’d almost forgotten about the party and the decorative pins she’d impulsively added to her updo for the occasion. “Oh.”

      “You were out celebrating the New Year,” Justin guessed.

      “I never actually made it that far,” she told him.

      “I’m sure your date was disappointed.”

      “It wasn’t a date,” she said. “Not really.”

      “Good.” He slid his hands up her back, drawing her closer, and lowered his head to nip playfully at her bottom lip.

      This was dangerous. He was hardly touching her and her resistance was melting. He wasn’t her type. Not at all. He was a player and a doctor and everything she didn’t want in a man.

      But right now, she didn’t care about any of that. Right now, she did want him. Or at least her body wanted to feel the way she knew he could make her feel, the way he was making her feel.

      “But I am sorry your plans were ruined,” he said.

      “They were actually Amy’s plans—and I was kind of relieved to escape another blind date.”

      “Then you weren’t planning to ring in the New Year with wild, sweaty sex?”

      “The thought never crossed my mind.” His hands grazed her breasts as they skimmed up her sides, making her breath hitch. “Until now.”

      “Really?” He smiled against her lips. “You’re thinking about it now?”

      She slid her hands beneath his scrub top, over the smooth, taut skin of his abdomen. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it now.”

      “If you want to hold that thought, I’m off shift in a couple of hours.”

      She scraped her teeth lightly over his jaw. “I’ll change my mind in a couple of hours.”

      “I definitely don’t want you to change your mind.” He whisked her scrub top up over her head, unveiling her pink lace bra, and his brows lifted. “You sure you