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No matter how many laps he swam in the pool in the dark and the chill, Greg couldn’t get the heat out of his body. A baby was on the way. He’d heard the heartbeat every day for the past three days. Replaying it over and over. And he needed his family in order. Needed to provide.
To do.
He’d never been a sit-around-and-wait type of guy. He was always the one who studied puzzles and found the solutions.
But the solution to the puzzle before him seemed to be nonexistent. How did he and Elaina go from being lovers to parents without anything personal growing between them?
How did he learn things about her, become a part of her life, without getting involved?
And yet, for the sake of his child, he had to stay free and clear from anything that could turn bad. And every single time he’d been involved with a woman, it had eventually gone wrong. The sex stuff, he was great at.
More than that...he seemed to have trouble distinguishing between love and lust. Need and want. Forever and for now.
Or, more accurately, he tried to create forever, need and love out of lust, want and for now. And let himself get used up in the process.
And when something like that ended, it didn’t leave the type of atmosphere where one could give a child a secure, happy, loving life.
He’d lost count of the number of times he’d swum the length of the pool, something he’d done each of the three nights since the day he’d heard his child’s heartbeat. He would get off work at midnight, drive to his parking place in Elaina’s garage, avoid looking at the door that led into her suite where she’d told him she’d stay, leaving him the house when he got home, and, instead of showering, opt for a cold swim. After a twelve-hour shift in the ED, he was still thrumming with adrenaline.
But the excess energy wasn’t all due to work.
He was adjusting to a life that had drastically changed course. He had his plan. Just had to get through the twists and turns he hadn’t foreseen, and those he had, too, to end up where he needed to be in his life.
Dragging himself out of the pool when he figured he’d done enough to acquire a need for sleep—and the ability to get there—Greg wrapped the towel he’d brought out with him around his waist and let himself quietly back inside the dining room door.
He was surprised to see Elaina standing in front of the mounted microwave. She didn’t say anything, as though maybe she thought he wouldn’t notice her.
Fat chance of that. He could smell that she’d walked through the kitchen hours after she’d been there. Heard her walk through the living room to the kitchen every single morning—with his door shut and white noise ocean sounds playing from his smart speaker.
Unlike him with his rotations, she worked a semiregular shift. Regular in that she had the same hours every week—semi in that she picked up a lot of extras and adjusted for weekend duty twice a month. She had to be at work early in the morning. And was still in the critical three-month miscarriage portion of her pregnancy. He worried about her overdoing, though, medically, he knew that her working should pose no danger.
“You okay?” he asked, glad for the darkness that kept his suddenly upright and only loosely covered groin concealed.
“Just getting some decaffeinated tea with lavender—Dr. Miller said that I could have chamomile as long as I watch the strength, don’t steep it long and don’t do it every night, but there’s no danger with lavender, so I’m...um...making some tea with lavender.”
All the time he’d known her, he’d only heard her ramble once before. In the parking lot after the ultrasound. Was she struggling as much as he was?
Could they talk about it?
Should they?
Certainly not while he was standing there dripping on her tile floor. Wearing only a towel and loose-fitting trunks that weren’t going to keep his body contained if he stood there much longer, adjusting to the gloom, noticing the short silk robe she had on, reminding him exactly what was underneath—or not.
“Are you feeling okay?” He was a doctor and she was carrying his child. He had to know.
“Fine. Just having trouble sleeping and I have to be at work in six hours.”
Satisfied, he turned away from her and toward the space that he’d begun to think of as his. As far as he knew, she hadn’t even been down that hallway since the day he’d moved in. “Good night,” he said, eager to make his escape before he made a mistake.
“I didn’t know you were out there...when I came out. I heard you get home, heard you come in, but thought you were in your room.”
He turned halfway back—enough that he could look in her direction, not enough that she could see him head-on. Because the wrong “head” was definitely “on.”
“Elaina, this is your home. You’re free to move about as you please and certainly don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
The microwave beeped and she took out her cup. She dropped a tea bag into it and dipped it up and down. “Is this your first night in the pool?”
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