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An hour later, I was strolling past Boxer’s room when I saw a pregnant brunette sitting by his bedside.
“Doc!” Boxer called out with a smile. “Come in here! I want you to meet someone.”
“Don’t talk to the doctor that way,” the pretty woman said, lightly smacking his arm.
Bile rose in my throat.
Of course.
I’d fallen for his easy charm and reluctantly been impressed that he’d refused opiates. He’d been intriguing, different. And I’d noticed.
I felt lower than low, but there was no way I could get out of meeting Boxer’s wife. But then I realized it wasn’t my fault. Boxer had led me to believe… He never mentioned anyone or wore a ring. I never would’ve sat and had yogurt with him if I’d known.
I mentally braced myself and smiled at the woman who was married to a dog, and I wondered if she knew it. “Hi, I’m Dr. Linden Ward.” I held out my hand to her, and she gave it a hearty shake.
“I’m so glad I got to see you so I could give you these in person.” She held a plastic container of cookies out to me. “I made these for you. My way of saying thanks for…well, being Boxer’s guardian angel.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “It was my pleasure. Really.” My eyes drifted to her belly. “When are you due?”
“In about eight weeks. Each day I keep getting bigger and bigger.” She laughed, her face radiant.
“Congratulations.” It was impossible not to smile at her genuine warmth. Too bad her husband was a complete and utter jerk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ugh. Preggo brain.” She smacked her forehead. “I’m Mia Weston.”
“Weston,” I repeated, my gaze darting to Boxer.
Not Ford.
“This isColt’swife,” Boxer said slowly, his smile deepening as if he knew what had been going through my mind. “They’re in love and committed and everything.”
Mia frowned in confusion as she looked at Boxer. But then she turned her attention back to me, seemingly unaware of the internal battle I’d been waging. “You met my husband the other night. He’s the big burly one.”
“You forgot grumpy,” Boxer added.
Mia wrinkled her nose at Boxer. “He’s not that grumpy anymore. I make him happy.”
“Sometimes,” Boxer teased.
“Hush, you.” She tweaked his nose, and I couldn’t help but smile at their sibling-like interaction.
“I would’ve been here,” Mia went on, “but we’ve got a twelve-year-old son and I was home with him.”
She didn’t look old enough to have a twelve-year-old son, but I kept that thought to myself. I also kept the thought to myself that she was a very lucky woman to be married to Colt, becausewow.
“Here,” she said, insisting I take the cookies.
I grasped the container. “Thank you for this, but it really wasn’t necessary.”
“If you don’t want them, I’ll take them. Mia bakes the best cookies,” Boxer said.
I clutched them tighter. “You’re on a restricted diet and sugar won’t help you heal.”
“Damn,” Boxer muttered. “And here I thought you were gonna take pity on me.”
“You don’t need pity,” I said. “You get enough of that from the nurses.”
“That’s our Boxer.” Mia rubbed her lower back. “I’ve got to get going. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Ward.”
