Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | Baby′s First Christmas

Baby's First Christmas
Cathy Gillen Thacker
A 7 lb. 8 oz. Christmas Package!When totally eligible E.R. doctor Michael Sloane found out he was going to be a father at the eleventh hour–make that the ninth month–he set out to tell single mom-to-be Kate Montgomery she was going to have his baby. Which was a good thing because Kate went into labor. They alone, strangers, delivered their healthy infant son on a North Carolina roadside. Now, with a baby between them, Kate and Michael could never go their separate ways again. If Michael had his say, they'd be sharing the baby's first Christmas as man and wife.



“I’m your baby’s father.”
“Is this a joke, Dr. Sloane?” Kate asked, swaying slightly before she clasped her very pregnant stomach.
Michael put out a hand to steady her. “Believe me, I couldn’t believe it when I found out, either.” But it had happened, and they had to face it together—as parents. Unfortunately he had had only a day to plan for the event. Kate had had nine months! “So now that we know what happened, what are we going to do about it?”
“Look, you don’t have to be beholden to me, Dr. Slo—”
“It’s Michael. And I want to be involved, Kate,” he said seriously. “So, if we’re going to have a child together—even by accident—we need to get to know each other.”
For a moment Kate couldn’t help but take the sexy doctor’s recommendation seriously, but then she regained her senses and said, “Next, you’ll be proposing marriage—”
“Well, not yet.”

Baby’s First Christmas
Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CATHY GILLEN THACKER
Cathy Gillen Thacker married her high school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why, you ask? Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of automobiles (some of which worked and some of which didn’t), several moves across the country, his and her careers, and sundry other experiences (some of which were exciting and some of which weren’t). But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world. You can find out more about Cathy and her books at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Chapter One
Kate Montgomery’s younger sister, Lindy, charged into the workroom at Gourmet Gifts To Go and slammed her crammed bookbag down between the stacks of Thanksgiving gift baskets and decorative Christmas sleighs still waiting to be filled. “He’s here,” she announced.
Kate looked up from the home-delivery order form emblazoned with the logo of her Chapel Hill, North Carolina, store. Although she and her twenty-six-year-old sister looked alike—they had the same pale blond hair and light green eyes—they remained as different as night and day. Lindy, who couldn’t get enough of school, was currently finishing up her PhD in mathematics. Whereas Kate had had all she could bear of classroom education after just four years of college.
“Who’s here?” Kate asked casually.
Lindy slipped off her UNC windbreaker with the sweatshirt lining. “That guy with the really sexy voice who keeps calling you for an appointment and won’t say why. He’s cu-u-u-te, Kate. You ought to go talk to him. After all,” Lindy said to Kate, a matchmaker’s sparkle in her eyes, “he might not be selling anything.”
That’ll be the day, Kate thought, her lips curving upward wryly as she added tins of smoked salmon and chocolate truffles to a gift basket already filled with goodies. “That’s what you said about the last half-dozen,” Kate reminded her sister patiently as she carefully fit in individual packets of raspberry-flavored cappuccino and fruit snack mix. “And I ended up listening to two life insurance salesmen ready to write policies on my baby in utero, a peddler of encyclopedias ready to educate my child via audiotape, a beachfront property time-share Realtor who wanted me to have a vacation home to take my baby to, a financial analyst who wanted to plan my baby’s college fund for him or her and—last but not least—a person who just knew, because I was pregnant, that I’d be needing to turn in my beloved Saturn sedan for a station wagon ASAP.”
Always quick to help out, Lindy cut off a length of blue satin ribbon and tied it around the handle of the wicker basket Kate was filling. “How do you figure all these guys know you’re pregnant?” she asked, pausing to make sure the bow was tied just so.
“And single? I don’t know.” Kate slid off the stool and straightened, one hand on her aching back. Today was one of those days she just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. She’d been having a lot of them lately. Though never had she felt this sort of aching, insistent pressure in her thighs, too. She smiled at Lindy, who was not only her only sibling but her closest friend. She strode past the Santa cookie tins and golden-mesh gift totes that were sold year-round. “But I guess I do need to go talk to this guy before he interferes with any of my regular customers.”
Lindy cupped a hand around her mouth and used the low singsong voice they’d adapted when both were starry-eyed teenagers, “Be nice now. He really is cute.”
Kate rolled her eyes at the blatant matchmaking. Suddenly, everyone—including her strongest ally—wanted her to get married again, but she knew there was no way that was going to happen. One disastrous marriage was enough. She was ready for motherhood. And nothing else. Meantime, there was this nuisance to be dealt with, afternoon deliveries to be made, a quick dinner with her mother and one final Lamaze class to attend. And all in the five hours before nine o’clock, her self-imposed bedtime these days.
Taking a deep breath, Kate tucked the satiny ends of her pale blond bob behind her ears, smoothed the lines of her black velvet maternity jumper and white satin blouse and breezed into the shop where Dulcie, the store’s assistant manager, and Jeff, another part-time employee and premed student, were busy chatting it up with a well-dressed man in his early thirties. Her glance sweeping past the window display promoting upcoming holidays and events—namely Thanksgiving, semester exams and Christmas— Kate focused on the center of activity.
Darn it all if her younger sister wasn’t right, she thought, amused despite herself as she glided gracefully between the rows of elegant gift baskets and gourmet treats. The persistent man of mystery was cute. Devastatingly so, even in profile. His dark sable brown hair was windblown and shiny clean, his ruggedly handsome face clean-shaven and, she noted as she neared, scented with a deliciously spicy aftershave. Tall and fit, he was dressed in khaki slacks, a pale blue shirt and tie and a navy sport coat that made the most of his broad, imposing shoulders.
“Here Kate is now!” Dulcie said, and beamed at her introduction.
The attractive stranger turned to her, enfolding her hand in the warm, strong palm of his. “I’m Dr. Michael Sloane. I work over at the medical center.”
And, Kate thought, alarmed, he wanted to talk to her in person and wouldn’t say why. As her next thought came with frightening speed, Kate’s hand flew to her swollen tummy and hovered there protectively. “The baby,” she said breathlessly. “Is there—”
“There’s nothing wrong with the baby.” Michael Sloane paused. His sensually chiseled lips thinned and he looked her over from head to toe before his sable brown eyes lasered in on hers with disarming intimacy. “Is there some place we could talk privately?”
If ever there was a person who looked like he’d been tapped to deliver bad news, it was Michael Sloane. Kate swallowed. “This is serious, isn’t it?” she asked softly.
“It’s—” He stopped abruptly. Took her arm firmly but gently. “Before we continue, we need to be somewhere you can sit down.”

AS MICHAEL had half expected, Kate dug in her heels and refused to budge. “Anything you want to sell me, you can sell me right here,” she told him stubbornly.
No doubt about it, Michael Sloane thought as he studied the five-foot-six-inch blond dynamo, the woman was every bit as memorable and feisty as the guys at the lab had said she was. In general, Michael had never really cared for short hair on women, but Kate’s silky pale blond bob suited her perfectly, even at this late stage of her pregnancy. Her face was heart-shaped and pretty, her features delicate, feminine and perfectly proportioned. Her light green eyes were framed with twin sets of thick blond eyelashes and delicate brows, her skin fair, her full lips and delicate cheeks a natural shell pink.
“I told you before, Ms. Montgomery,” he said, aware the bizarre circumstances he found himself in left him no choice but to be darned mysterious over the phone as he’d tried to get an appointment with her. Only to be cut off as soon as she found he wasn’t willing to disclose the very delicate nature of what he wanted to discuss with her over the phone for fear she’d be so upset she’d cut and run. “I’m not selling insurance,” he told her dryly. Although, as he took in her sexy, feminine build, he half wished he was.
“Then what, pray tell, are you selling?” Kate asked, pushing the hair from her heart-shaped face. “Opportunity?”
More like bad news, Michael thought, as he inhaled the intoxicating smell of her tuberose-and-jasmine perfume. Really bad news, at least as far as single mother-to-be Kate Montgomery was likely to think. Still, this was no discussion to be having while she was on her feet in the middle of the shop.
The door opened. A group of customers walked in.
Dulcie and Jeff went to wait on them, and Kate led Michael into the back of the immaculately kept store. On one side of a narrow hallway was a workroom and storage area. On the other were a lounge, office and bathroom. Kate led him into the small but cozy office decorated in shades of pale mossy green and cream.
Hoping fervently she wouldn’t scream, faint or cry uncontrollably when he told her the news, he gestured toward the sofa opposite her desk and suggested mildly, “Perhaps you’d like to sit down.”
Kate shook her head and kept her eyes on his. “I’d prefer to stand,” she said.
And, Michael thought, she’d prefer him to leave—immediately—judging from the expression on her face. “All right,” he said reluctantly, knowing he was going to have to blurt it out. “We’ll do it your way. As I said earlier, my name is Dr. Michael Sloane.” Michael reached into his coat pocket and produced several pieces of identification for her perusal. “I’m an emergency room physician at the medical center in Chapel Hill.”
Kate studied the ID in her hand without comment, then carefully handed it all back.
“I’m here because I have something to tell you about your baby’s biological father.”
Kate paled and backed up until her hips were resting against the edge of her desk. She folded her arms in front of her swollen tummy in a protective gesture. “You couldn’t possibly know anything about that,” she said stiffly, beginning to look all the more perturbed with his uninvited presence.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Michael paused, knowing however he said this, whenever he said this, it was likely to be a tremendous shock. He sat on the sofa opposite her and clasped his hands between his spread knees. “I know everything there is to know about him.”
Kate’s beautiful eyes turned stormy as she circled her desk and carefully lowered herself into the upholstered swivel chair behind it. “Then you also know he’s chosen to be anonymous,” she said tightly, as pink swept into her high, delicately chiseled cheeks.
“I know the person you selected to father your baby felt that way,” Michael corrected.
Kate’s green eyes did not waver from his. “So if you will kindly leave,” Kate continued.
Michael shook his head in mute disagreement. “Not before I tell you what I came here to say.”
Kate’s chest rose and fell beneath her white satin blouse and black velvet jumper. “And that is…”
There was no easy way to say this. Michael swallowed. “I’m your baby’s father.”

LONG, INCREDULOUS SECONDS ticked past. Kate shot to her feet. So did he. “That’s impossible,” Kate said flatly at last as she stormed around her desk to confront him.
His feelings rigidly in check, Michael towered over her. “How do you figure that?” he asked softly, studying her from head to toe.
“Because!” Kate flushed at the way he was looking her over. “You’re not at all what I ordered,” she told him hotly.
No surprise there, Michael thought. He hadn’t ordered this, either. But it had happened. And like it or not, this delectable-looking blond with the fiercely independent nature was bearing his child. “What did you order, then?” he asked curiously, determined to rescue them both from this mess whether she wanted his help or not.
Kate flushed and gave him a self-conscious look that spoke volumes about her comfort zone with men. “Someone of medium height and build—a maximum of five-ten, one hundred and eighty pounds.”
Michael struggled to keep his mind on the conversation rather than the slender and supple—yet very pregnant and feminine—body beneath her black velvet jumper. He had never realized a pregnant woman could turn him on like this. “And I’m six feet two inches tall and two hundred pounds.”
Her lips curved wryly as she folded her arms beneath the soft swell of her breasts and admitted, “Not to mention way too athletic and solidly built.”
His glance roved the incredible softness of her hair and face before returning to the sparkling intelligence of her light green eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one who thinks brains and athletic talent are traits that are mutually exclusive?” he teased.
“You said it, not me,” Kate replied, just as humorously. “Although now that you mention it—” she turned to give him an appraising glance that heated his blood “—you do look like someone who played a lot of ball.”
“Baseball, and you’re right, I did, all through elementary, junior high and high school. I was also on the honor rolls and a member of Phi Beta Kappa.” Neither of which was any big deal to him. Nor, he felt, should it be to her.
“See, that’s another thing.” Kate breezed past him and headed for the workroom, where a dozen or so gift baskets were lined up, waiting to be delivered. She fished a set of keys off a hook, picked up a basket filled with wine and cheese and headed for the exit, her hips sashaying lightly. “I didn’t want anyone who was too smart.”
Admiring her composure in the face of such a potential catastrophe, Michael held the door as she slipped past him.
“I didn’t want my child to be called a nerd by the other kids. Furthermore,” Kate confided petulantly as she slid the key in the lock and opened the back of the full-size powder blue Gourmet Gifts To Go delivery van, “I wanted the father I selected to have blond hair, fair skin and blue eyes.” She slid the basket onto the carpeted floor of the van, then straightened, leaned against the door and looked at him. “Not sable brown hair and eyes to match.”
Unable to help himself, Michael laughed. “This is the first time those traits have ever been held against me!”
“I’m not holding them against you!” Kate pivoted on her heel and headed into the building at a clip. “I’m just using them to point out the fact that the lab couldn’t possibly have mixed up your sperm with the sperm of the man I selected.” She lifted two more baskets-to-go into her arms and watched as Michael pitched in and did the same. “You’re just too far off from what I wanted,” she explained logically.
Michael helped put all four of the baskets in the van. He slid them all the way forward behind the captain-style driver and passenger seats. Straightening, he turned to her. He’d known this would be as hard for her—if not more difficult—than it had been for him. But it had happened, and like it or not, they had to deal with it.
“Except for the social security numbers,” he told her softly, looking at her and wishing like hell there were some way to fix all this without hurting her or the baby or him. “There, the father you selected and I were only one digit off, Kate. The last two numbers of my number were five, three. His were five, four.” Seeing she was about to stave off the truth and protest again, he touched a finger to her lips, reveling in the satiny softness as he effectively and quickly silenced what she was about to say.
“And yes,” he continued as another thrill shot through him, “they did indeed mix up the vials, because his sperm is still in the deep freeze, perfectly intact, not a drop missing.” Aware his finger and her lips were both heating, he dropped his finger from her lips. His frown deepening, he finished, “Mine, on the other hand, is all gone, and the experiment I agreed to participate in has not yet been done.”
Kate suddenly felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her heart pounding, she leaned against the open door of the van. She looked as shaken as he’d felt when he’d first done the detective work and confirmed for himself what had happened. “Is that how you found out there’d been a mistake?” she asked, aghast. “The lab called you?”
Michael nodded grimly. “They asked me to come down and donate some sperm for the experiment on ways to improve genetic testing. I said I already had, months ago. They said I hadn’t. Obviously something had happened, so an investigation was done.”
Kate gulped. Finally, it was beginning to sink in. “If this is a joke, Dr. Sloane,” she said, swaying slightly, “it is definitely not funny.”
Michael put out a hand to steady her. He guided her to a sitting position in the back of the van. “Believe me, I didn’t think it was funny when I found out about it, either,” he said grimly as he knelt in front of her. In fact, it still seemed like a nightmare from which he’d never wake up. But it had happened, and had to be faced.
Michael took her hand in his and clasped it firmly. “Look, I figured you wouldn’t want to just take my word for all this.”
“You’re right about that much,” Kate said hotly. She pushed his hand away and leaped to her feet.
“So I brought proof,” Michael said.
Ten phone calls later, Kate finally appeared satisfied he was telling her the truth. Once again, they squared off in her private office.
“The question is,” Michael said, as he stared into her flushed face, “now that we know what happened, what are we going to do about this?”

THOUGH IT HAD been a shock, Kate had had time to think about it, and she knew what she had to do. Play her cards to the hilt. “Why should we do anything?” she asked with a great deal more serenity than she felt. “We could sue the clinic, but what would that bring us, except more unhappiness. We’re just going to have to deal with the situation as it exists.”
Michael blinked, stunned by her casual assertion. “I beg your pardon?”
Kate palmed her chest. “You didn’t plan for this baby. On the other hand, I did.” In her opinion, that gave her vastly superior rights.
Michael’s eyes darkened as he closed the distance between them. “Be that as it may, this is still my child, too,” he stated.
“I know that.” Kate smiled. Feeling as though she had a tiger by the tail, she planted both hands on her hips. “But you don’t have to feel beholden to either of us.”
“I want to be involved,” Michael insisted.
“You feel that way now…” she said.
“I’ll feel that way forever,” Michael corrected, as his expressive brows lowered like thunderclouds over his eyes.
Kate shrugged, aware the aching pressure in her thighs, which had been there all day, was increasing—maybe because of the amount of time she’d spent on her feet, pacing back and forth, as she talked to Michael about their situation. “We’ll see,” she replied cryptically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
Kate stomped closer, not stopping until she and Michael were toe to toe. She angled her head at him, wishing he weren’t so tall, so fit or so unerringly handsome and masculine. “It means once the novelty wears off, you could lose interest in this baby and in me,” she said mildly.
He flashed her a crocodile grin. “I don’t think so.”
His soft voice sent another whisper of sensual awareness spiraling through her. Feeling as though she couldn’t breathe, Kate drew a deep—albeit shaky—breath and continued to study him like a problem she had no choice but to solve immediately. In the meantime, she still had her afternoon deliveries to do, a scheduled dinner with her mother and one last Lamaze class to attend.
“Look,” she said finally, “if you still feel the same way in a couple of weeks, we’ll sit down and talk.” She was being vague, hoping against hope that time would take care of everything.
“And work something out?” Michael pressed.
Kate didn’t want to do anything like that, but she knew—out of fairness—that she had to consider his position, too. “I’ll try to do what’s right for all of us, as soon as I figure out what that is,” she promised sincerely. “Meanwhile, if you’ll excuse me, I have seventeen deliveries to make.”
Michael caught her wrist in his hand and held her in place.
“I still want to help you,” he insisted.
The skin of his palm felt like hot silk around her wrist. “Everyone does,” she replied.
His grip gentled. “What do you mean?”
Kate shrugged. “Since I became pregnant, all sorts of people have seen fit to counsel me on the wisdom of my decision to be a single parent and raise this child alone. People who wouldn’t dream of telling me what brand of mustard to buy have no qualms at all about telling me I need a husband in a hurry.”
Michael smiled in understanding, his hold on her becoming more intimate before he reluctantly released her altogether. “But you don’t see it that way,” he guessed softly.
Kate sighed and—a hand to her aching back—leaned against the edge of her desk. In a continuing effort to get comfortable, she crossed her ankles in front of her and clasped the edge of the desk on either side of her. “It’d be nice if every child in this world could have a mother and a father who loved each other desperately, a ton of siblings and live in a house with a white picket fence. But that doesn’t always happen.”
Michael pushed the edges of his sport coat back and braced his hands on his waist. “Still, whenever possible,” he repeated, his kind brown eyes locking with hers, “I think a baby should have a mommy and a daddy.”
Kate, who’d done an awful lot of thinking about this very subject before becoming pregnant, stubbornly refused to concede the same. She angled her chin at him, determined to let him know, along with everyone else, that she could handle this. “I think every child needs lots of love, security and a sense of family. My child—” not our child “—will have all that and more,” she stated.
“What about my child?” Michael asked, his expression determined.
Kate looked away evasively, and her lips tightened mutinously. “When you plan for a child, then you can also plan the environment in which you will bring him or her up.”
Michael did a double take. “Surely you’re not intending to cut me out of our baby’s life entirely?”
Kate’s shoulders stiffened as she—once again—found herself in the unenviable position of having to defend herself. “I’m sure there will come a time, when our child is much older, that some explanation will be in order,” she asserted.
Michael placed a palm on the desk on either side of her and towered over her, “And until then?”
Kate planted a hand on his chest and pushed him away. Standing, she breezed past him haughtily. “Until then I suggest you think about it as much as you would’ve had your genes merely been guinea pigs in a genetics experiment.”
He caught hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work,” he said tightly, staking his claim on their baby—and, by default, her.
“It will work,” Kate insisted, inhaling the spicy, masculine scent of aftershave clinging to his freshly shaven jaw. “As long as you want it to work.” Wanting it to work was key. She headed for the front of the shop, where she informed Dulcie, Jeff and Lindy she was leaving to do her deliveries.
Michael watched her gather the turquoise duffel packed with her Lamaze stuff, the keys to the van, her cell phone, clipboard of addresses, area street maps and purse. He followed her out the back door to the van.
“I know this child exists,” he said, as Kate—who wished she could do something about the unprecedented aching in her thighs, which seemed to get worse with every passing second—unlocked the driver’s door and tossed in her gear.
“I’m going to want to know he or she is okay,” Michael continued stubbornly as the two of them continued to be buffeted by the brisk November air.
Feeling about as graceful as a whale on roller skates, Kate levered herself up and into the driver’s seat and fit the key in the ignition. “Then I’ll send you progress reports, okay?”
Michael stood between her and the door, preventing her from closing it. “No. It’s not okay.” His voice lowered a notch as his eyes held hers in a manner that let her know he wasn’t about to be dissuaded. “I’m going to need—I’m going to want—a hell of a lot more than that.”
Kate drew an exasperated breath as she reached behind her and drew her seat belt across her chest. “Look, just because I’m carrying your child—by accident, I might add—does not mean you need to be involved in my life, too.”
Michael regarded her grimly. “If we’re going to have a child together—even by accident—we need to get to know each other. The only way for us to do that is for us to spend time together.”
She considered that notion for a moment, finding it oddly—engagingly attractive, then discarded it.
Rolling her eyes, she claimed facetiously, “Next you’ll be proposing marriage—”
Michael shook his head. “Not at this stage.”
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heaven for small miracles,” she said dryly, as Michael leaned into the cab of the van.
“Although, now that you bring it up, maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” he replied, unwilling, it seemed, to throw out any possibility whatsoever that would bring him closer to the child she was about to bear, “should we eventually find we can get along.”
He was an attractive man. There was even, it seemed, a purely physical chemistry between them, as evidenced by the way she tingled whenever, wherever, he touched her, but the rest was just plain nuts. She studied his face. “You’re serious,” she whispered, able to feel for the first time how much he wanted this child in his life, in his heart.
“Very.”
Silence fell between them, more awkward than before.
The situation was amazing. Incredible. Unprecedented. And so very complicated. Kate had no idea what to do. She only knew she felt simultaneously threatened and oddly comforted, cossetted, by his presence.
Michael swore softly and ran a hand through his wind-tossed hair. “Look, I don’t want to make your life any harder, but this is my child—the only child I may ever have—and I want to be a part of his or her life, too. A big part.” Noting she was beginning to shiver in the increasingly cool afternoon air, he circled the front of the van and climbed into the passenger’s seat. He swiveled to face her, all the love he felt for their unborn child in his eyes. “If you were in my place, you’d feel the same way.”
True, Kate thought, as they stared at each other in contemplative silence. Suddenly she knew—as much as she might want him to—he wasn’t going to back off. If she didn’t want to end up in court, fighting for custody of her child before he or she was even born, she was going to have to cooperate with Michael Sloane. Or at least put up the pretense of doing so until he realized this was more commitment than he really wanted over the long haul. “What exactly are you suggesting?” she asked calmly as she shut the driver door and switched on the ignition.
“Only what’s fair,” Michael said as she turned on the heater. “That starting now, you let me be a part of our child’s life in every way. Including the birth.”
Kate’s knees turned to jelly as she thought about the implied intimacy of that. “You want to be in the delivery room?” she asked in a low, trembling voice as she splayed a hand across her chest.
“I am a doctor.”
But not my doctor, Kate thought. And the thought of being disrobed in front of him, for any reason, made her heart beat all the harder. Ignoring the tingles of awareness ghosting over her skin, she frowned and glanced at her watch. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
Michael looked as though he had expected that. “It’ll have to be fast,” he warned. “If the guys at the lab were correct about the date of your artificial insemination, you’ve only got a day or so.”
As if she needed reminding about that! Kate shrugged. “The baby could be late.”
“Or early.”
Swallowing around the sudden dryness in her throat, Kate glanced at her watch again. “I really do need to go.”
Michael frowned at the list of addresses on the clipboard and the rows of gift baskets in the back of the van. “You’re going to make all these deliveries yourself?”
Kate nodded. “I always do the late afternoon deliveries. Dulcie does the ones first thing in the morning. Jeff takes care of the ones at noon.” She paused. “I like this part of the business, too. It’s fun, seeing the expression of delight on the customers’ faces when they receive a gift from my shop. And I enjoy the change of pace after being in the shop all day.”
“Let me help you. You drive. I’ll carry the baskets up to the door. It’ll go twice as fast that way. Then maybe the two of us can go to dinner and finish resolving all this.”
Kate had to admit she could use the help. Because of her talk with him, she was running a good hour behind schedule for deliveries. “It’s going to take me several hours,” she warned. “And I have to go out in the country to do the rural deliveries.”
“Then you really shouldn’t be out there alone. Not this close to delivering. What if something happened?”
“Then I’d call for help on my cell phone,” she told him calmly, knowing first babies were generally notoriously slow in arriving. And she had yet to suffer her first real contraction. Nevertheless, he had a point. She didn’t want to put her baby in danger. And she had been feeling a little achy and tired all day. Maybe it was best if she accepted his help and let him tag along with her. It would give her a chance to show him she could handle work and a baby and subtly persuade him he didn’t want to be a father as much as he thought he did. If she were successful, it would be well worth the additional time she spent with him.
While she drove, Kate told him about the preparations she had made for the baby, going into detail about the nursery she had prepared, the type of crib and changing table and rocking chair she’d selected and the extensive layette of baby clothes. Michael was interested and impressed. Nevertheless, by the time they had gotten halfway through the list of deliveries, Kate felt oddly trembly and exhausted. When he offered to do some of the driving, too, she agreed with barely a murmur of dissent.
“You feeling okay?” Michael asked as he got behind the wheel and steered the delivery van onto the lonely country road.
“Sure,” Kate fibbed with a lot more assurance than she felt, then abruptly doubled over with a sharp cry of pain.
“What is it?” Michael asked, alarmed.
Kate clutched her tummy all the harder. “Guess.”

Chapter Two
“You’re in labor,” Michael proclaimed, surprised to discover that beneath the usual physician’s calm he was feeling the initial panic all first-time fathers felt.
Kate groaned and sank even farther into her seat. Breathing through the contraction—which appeared to last about thirty seconds—she put her hands on the edges of the upholstery and gripped it until her knuckles turned white. “It would certainly appear so, yes.” Kate pushed the words through a row of even white teeth. Delicate beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip.
She seemed awfully uncomfortable for a very first contraction, Michael thought. Unless… Oh, no. “Was this your first contraction?” he asked.
“I—” Kate gasped between panting breaths that told him another contraction was starting, just seconds after the conclusion of the first. “Suppose.” No sooner had she spoken than she let out a sharp little cry.
“What do you mean you suppose?” Michael demanded. Figuring the rest of the delivery baskets could wait, he turned the van in the direction of Chapel Hill.
“I’ve felt a little funny all day,” Kate confessed as she grabbed a tissue from her purse and pressed it to the dampness at the back of her neck.
“Funny how?”
“I’ve had this pressure—this sort of aching—in my thighs, like I overdid it exercising or something.”
“But no actual contractions until just now.”
“Right.”
“And you’re sure what you felt just now was an actual contraction?” Michael persisted.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
The important thing here was to stay calm. “When did the funny feeling—the pressure—start in your legs?”
“This morning, when I got up.”
Which meant, Michael thought, she’d likely been in the very early stages of labor all day. “I noticed you rubbing your back in the shop. Was your back aching all day?”
“Yes, but that’s been the case off and on for several weeks now, so I didn’t think anything of it. But—” Kate caught her breath as the cramping in her lower abdomen intensified. “It’s never been this bad,” she said with tears in her eyes.
Michael reached over and squeezed her hand. “Hang in there,” he said.
“I’m trying.” Kate waited until the worst of it had passed, then, still panting, reached behind her and grabbed the duffel bag she took to her Lamaze class. Inside were clean workout clothes, a blanket to stretch out on, a pillow, an unopened bottle of mineral water and a stopwatch.
“Try breathing in through your nose and slowly breathing out through your mouth,” he said as the next contraction gripped her without warning. “That’s it,” he said, as Kate gasped again and hit the start button on her stopwatch. “Take deep, slow breaths, just the way they taught you in Lamaze class. That’s it, Kate. Again. And yet again—”
At long last, the pain subsided. As it did, Kate released a long, ragged breath. And suddenly became aware—as did Michael—that she was drenched with sweat. From the looks of it, Michael thought, as she turned the temperature control knob to cool, this was going to be one hard and fast—maybe too fast—labor.
“How long was the contraction?” Michael asked as Kate’s color slowly returned to normal and he continued to drive in the direction of the hospital at a safe, steady pace.
Kate glanced at her stopwatch. “Three minutes and fourteen seconds.” She seemed surprised as she contemplated that, murmuring, “No wonder it felt like an eternity!”
“Okay, let’s time between contractions now,” Michael said. “Then we’ll call your doctor.”
Kate reset the stopwatch and absently rubbed her tummy. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen, Michael noted with relief. All blissfully free of pain. Beginning to relax, she lay against the seat. Without warning, Kate’s teeth began to chatter. A shiver spiraled through her slender shoulders. Kate gasped as another contraction gripped her. She turned alternately red then white. “Do you know your OB’s number?” he asked calmly.
Still fighting the contraction gripping her, Kate pulled the cell phone out of her purse. “Dr. Amanda Gantor. Just punch one,” she panted.
Michael did as directed and was patched through. He explained what the situation was, then listened as he received instructions. “Right. Yes. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He hung up as Kate’s contraction finally came to a halt.
“Let me guess,” she drawled, still panting from the strength of her last contraction. “Dr. Gantor wants me to go straight to the hospital.”
“Right. She’ll alert labor and delivery and the emergency room and meet you at the hospital.”
Kate nodded, letting him know she’d heard. “Good thing you’re driving.” She gasped, leaned forward and clasped her tummy as yet another contraction gripped her. She whimpered. “I don’t think I could drive and endure this kind of pain, too.”
“Do you have a labor coach?”
“My baby sister, Lindy. She’s a teaching assistant at UNC. She’s teaching a class right now.” Kate shifted in an effort to get more comfortable and found, as Michael had figured would be the case, that it was hopeless. “You met her at the shop.”
“Ah, yes, the one who said I was cu-u-u-te.”
“You heard that?” She slanted him an inquiring glance as she continued to shift restlessly.
Michael zoomed past a trailer park, a deserted country church and a farm. “I think she may have meant me to,” he confided, in an attempt to divert Kate’s attention from the pain. He smiled at her. “I had the feeling she would have liked nothing better than to set the two of us up.”
Kate nodded, humorously conceding this was so. “And that was before she knew who you were or what your connection to me was—is,” Kate groaned.
“You think this will up the stakes?” Michael paused at a four-way intersection, then seeing it was safe, continued on.
“As far as Lindy is concerned, heck, yes. She’s an incurable romantic.” Kate picked up her bottle of water, ripped off the plastic seal and cap and took a tiny drink.
Michael slanted her another glance. “But not you.”
“Nope. Not anymore.” Kate handed him the bottled water. “I am a very practical woman.”
Michael also took a small swig. “Good for you.”
Kate capped the water, grimaced and began to pant as she was hit with yet another labor pain. “I guess it’s lucky you’re a doctor so you know about Lamaze.” Kate stuffed her belongings into her Lamaze bag. “You can coach me through it until we get to the hospital and Lindy and a nurse take over.” Thirty seconds. Forty-five. Sixty. Seventy-five.
“No problem,” Michael retorted as they passed a road sign that said, Chapel Hill, twenty-four miles. “I could coach you through the Bradley and Gamper methods, too. But my real talent—” noting her contraction was continuing some two and half minutes after it began, he reached over to give her hand a comforting squeeze “—is in catching babies.”
Kate forced a weak smile and let herself take comfort from his touch, even as the pain increased. “With or without a mitt?” she asked, panting.
“Without.” He winked at her playfully. “Though I imagine it could be done either way.”
“That’s it,” Kate gasped, looking as if it was taking everything she had to resist the urge to scream with the pain. “Keep the banter coming,” she advised.
Michael nodded at her bright red cheeks. “You hurting a lot?”
Kate concentrated on her breathing. “Oh, let’s just say it feels like an eighteen-wheeler truck is inside me roaring to get out.”
“Hang on. We’re less than twenty minutes from the medical center.”
“Oh, no.” Kate raised her hips off the captain’s seat.
“What?” Michael was beginning to look as panicked as she felt.
“Oh, no-no-no-no,” Kate wailed in distress.
“What’s going on, Kate?”
She leaned back and gripped his forearm, hard. “I feel the baby coming.”
“That’s natural.”
Kate shook her head vigorously. She was trembling. “No. You don’t understand. The baby’s starting to come out of me, Michael. I can feel it. I can feel the—baby’s head!”
Michael guided the Gourmet Gifts To Go van into the first safe place he saw, the dirt road entrance to a farmer’s field. He put the van in park, switched on the hazard lights and set the emergency brake but kept the motor running, the air on. “I’m coming around,” he said.
He got out of the van, circled the front and opened her door. “I’m going to hit the recline button on your seat, take your seat belt off and lay you back.” He put his hands beneath her shoulders and hips, leaned in and scooted her back and up. “I’m going to have to take a look.”
She turned her head from him as he eased the hem of her jumper up and did what was necessary with clinical care.
“Well?” Kate asked when he’d assessed the situation.
“You’re right,” Michael said grimly. “There’s no time to spare. We’ve got to get you to the back of the van. Put your arm around my neck. That’s it.” He slid one arm beneath her knees, the other beneath her shoulders, then swept her effortlessly into his strong arms and carried her to the back. He opened the door and laid Kate gently on the carpeted floor of the van, pushing aside the gift baskets.
Perspiration streamed down her face. He went to get her Lamaze gear and shut the door. Kate struggled against the pain that was gripping her nonstop. “I’m going to have the baby here and now, in the back of my delivery van, aren’t I?” she panted as one contraction slipped into another.
Michael climbed in beside her and shut the rear door so there’d be no draft on her or the baby. “Looks like it, yes.” His expression all business, he lifted her hips and slid the blanket from her Lamaze bag beneath her.
“I can’t believe this,” she moaned. “First the mix-up at the sperm bank and now this!”
Michael knelt beside her and quickly divested her of her shoes, stockings and panties. “Maybe it’s just a Murphy’s law kind of year for us.” Swiftly, he checked on the position of the baby.
“Not for me.” Kate shook her head as he pushed the hem of her jumper high enough to allow him to work yet left it low enough to afford her some modesty. “I plan things out meticulously. Always have, always will, only to have everything suddenly go awry now in such a big way.” Kate groaned helplessly and tightened her hands into fists.
“If there’s one thing you can count on in this life, it’s that nothing ever goes according to plan anyway.” Working rapidly, Michael ripped into one of the undelivered gift baskets and extracted a bottle of wine. “Besides,” he continued, working to give her as much confidence as possible as he splashed his hands and then the birth area with germ-killing alcohol, “it’s been my experience that the best things in life are unplanned.”
“Well, you being the father of my baby and my going into labor now are the two absolute exceptions to the rule,” Kate muttered cantankerously. “As far as I’m concerned, the screw-ups stop here,” she said, looking panic-stricken as another contraction gripped her. She grabbed his arm. “I have to push.”
“Not yet, Kate.” Knowing he had to have something to cut the cord with, Michael plucked a silver-plated serving knife from the gift basket and sterilized that, too. “We don’t want the baby’s head to pop out too suddenly.”
“But you can see it?” Still holding tightly to his arm, Kate struggled against another gripping contraction.
“The very top of it, yes.” He put a hand on her abdomen, another on her thinning perineum. “I want you to pant or blow while I apply a counter pressure here to help the baby’s head come out gently and gradually.” Working with her to guide the baby into the world, he said gently, “That’s it, Kate, nice and slow. You’re doing great. Keep panting,” Michael said as the baby’s head began to emerge. Just a little at first, and then, several contractions later, all the way.
“There. Okay,” he said victoriously, glad all was okay so far. “The head’s out, and as soon as I get the baby’s mouth and nose clear—” Michael stroked downward on the baby’s nose, cheeks and throat “—he’s going to test his lungs for us.” Michael and Kate both grinned as the baby let out a choking, startled cry.
Knowing there was no time to lose, Michael continued to kneel between her thighs, both hands supporting the baby’s head, one above, one beneath. “Okay, Kate, I want you to push now.” Again, he supported and guided the slippery, squirming infant. “We’ve got one shoulder out,” Michael said, using gentle continued traction. “Now two. And here he comes.” Laughing exultantly, Michael lifted the kicking, screaming, healthy pink baby and placed him where she could hold onto him.
“We’ve got a boy, Kate. A beautiful baby boy. And he’s not too pleased about this,” Michael continued as he swiftly clamped the cord three inches from the baby’s abdomen. He cut the cord and carefully wrapped their squirming baby boy in Kate’s soft cotton workout pants.
“We’ll make it up to him,” Kate promised thickly as tears of joy streamed down her face. Laughing and crying simultaneously, Kate held their baby close to her heart. “Oh, Michael, he’s just perfect, isn’t he?” Kate whispered, looking as overwhelmed with the joy of the experience as he was.
Michael nodded. “He sure is,” he said thickly, aware of the love and pride welling inside him even as he checked their newborn son’s heart rate and respiration and did a routine medical assessment of the infant’s condition. “And he looks as healthy and strong as they come,” Michael said, as he touched the baby’s face, then Kate’s.
Kate caught Michael’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “Thank you for being here.”
Michael swallowed around the rising lump of emotion in his throat. “My pleasure.” Heaven knew there was no other place he would have wanted to be at this moment than with Kate and their baby.
She grimaced as another pain hit her.
Michael coaxed her through the spasms until the after-birth appeared. “Okay, we’ve got the placenta out.” Michael wrapped the placenta up, too, made both Kate and the baby as comfortable as he could, then retrieved the cell phone. “I think it’s time we called Dr. Gantor and the hospital, too.”

AS IT TURNED OUT, there was a fire station with an ambulance some fifteen minutes away from them. Deciding the sooner they got the two of them to the hospital the better, Michael drove Kate and the baby to a midpoint, then helped the EMS personnel transfer Kate and the baby to the stretcher and the waiting ambulance.
Realizing he was planning to follow them in the van, Kate reached out to grab him. “Stay with us,” she urged quietly. Incredible as it was under the circumstances, the two of them had bonded during the birth, and she didn’t want to lose that bond any more than she wanted to ride the rest of the way to the hospital alone.
Michael nodded. “Just let me close up the van,” he told her huskily.
By the time he got back, the EMS workers had started an IV in Kate’s arm. “So what are you going to name the baby?” the EMS worker asked.
Good question, Kate thought, looking at Michael, knowing this involved him, too. So much had changed in such a short time. “I was thinking about Timothy for a first name,” she told Michael quietly as he sat on the bench beside her.
“That’s nice.”
“And for a middle name?” the EMS worker prodded as he filled out the paperwork on Kate, and Michael continued to watch Kate and the baby.
“Initially, I was thinking about naming him after my grandfather,” Kate said softly, “but now I don’t know. I think maybe his middle name should be Michael. Timothy Michael Sloane-Montgomery. Or Montgomery-Sloane. What do you think?”
Michael’s eyes darkened as myriad emotions crossed his face. “I think nothing would make me happier.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think something was going on between you two,” the EMS worker teased.
Michael and Kate flushed simultaneously.
“Whoa,” the EMS worker said.
Exactly, Kate thought, as heat crept into her face. When word of this got out, people were going to think she and Michael had made this baby the old-fashioned way. And to tell the truth, they’d shared so much intimacy in such a short time, it almost felt as if they had. Except she didn’t even know how he kissed. Might—because of circumstances—never know.
Michael looked at the EMS worker. “If you wouldn’t mind moving up front with your partner—” he nodded at Kate and the baby “—maybe we could have a moment alone?”
“Sure.” Knowing Michael was a physician from the Chapel Hill emergency room, the EMS worker easily granted the request. “No problem. Take all the time you need.” He smiled at the happy trio, his glance resting on the blissfully sleeping baby nestled in Kate’s arms. “I’ll just radio the hospital and let them know both mother and baby are doing fine.”
Michael waited until the EMS worker was out of earshot then turned to Kate. He knelt beside her and took her hand in his. “Kate, this is a big step.” He searched her eyes. “Are you sure?”
Kate nodded. “Yes. If you hadn’t been there to bring my—to bring our—baby into the world—” Well, she didn’t even want to think about what might have happened. “Michael, I owe you so much,” she said softly, meaning it. “Timmy and I both do.”
It was swiftly apparent gratitude was not what he wanted from her, but it would do for now. “I’m the one who owes you, Kate,” Michael told her softly. “Not just for now.” Again, he looked at their sleeping newborn son and released a wistful sigh. “But for a lifetime.”
Thinking about it, Kate knew he was right. Through Timmy—and fate—she and Michael were going to be connected forever.

“IT’S ALL OVER the hospital,” Kate told Michael an hour later, after she and Timmy had been settled into a private room in the maternity ward.
“No kidding,” Michael drawled, even as he marveled at how pretty and together Kate looked after all she’d been through. “It’s bigger news than the original virgin birth.”
Kate sighed, her full breasts rising and falling beneath the soft cotton of her hospital gown. Her lips thinned to a soft, rosy line. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell my parents.”
Michael paced to the Plexiglas bassinet beside Kate, where their baby slept. Because she had requested the rooming-in arrangement, Timmy would be with her as much as possible during her stay in the hospital. Reassured their son was undisturbed by their low voices, Michael edged to Kate. He could imagine how difficult it was going to be for her to tell her parents about the mix-up at the fertility clinic. He hadn’t told his parents, yet, either.
Sliding his hands in the pockets of his trousers, he brought her quickly up to speed about her family. “They’ve both been called, by the way.”
“What?” Her expression incredulous and upset, Kate rose halfway off her hospital bed.
“When you registered for the birth, you listed both your parents as next of kin, but there were two phone numbers, your father’s law office and your mother’s home. The emergency room nurse asked me who she should call. I didn’t know, so the clerk called both.”
“Oh, no.” Kate covered her face with her hand. “Did they reach both my parents?” She looked at him from between spread fingers.
Michael nodded, wondering what the big deal was. “They’re on the way to the hospital as we speak.”
“Oh, no,” Kate moaned again, looking even more distressed.
“Something wrong?”
Kate nodded vigorously. “The two of them can’t be in the same room together.”
Kate’s sister, Lindy, who had been called to come to the hospital, walked in. Kate looked at her, distressed, and swiftly explained. “You have to do something.”
Evidently agreeing with Kate’s assessment of the situation completely, Lindy sprang into action. “I’ll head off Dad downstairs in the lobby. Meanwhile, when Mother gets here, you do your best to make her visit as snappy as possible. And then I’ll bring Dad up when the coast is clear.”
“What’s going on?” Michael asked curiously, figuring if he was going to land in the middle of some familial calamity, he should know the reason for it.
“My parents separated last summer, at my mother’s insistence, shortly after I told them I was pregnant with Timmy. My mother said she just needed some time and space to herself, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Kate shook her head and sighed. “I never thought either of my parents would have a mid-life crisis, and that goes double for my mom, who made the family her whole career.”
“Any chance she’s suffering from the empty nest syndrome now that you’re having a child of your own and your younger sister’s about ready to graduate?” Michael asked kindly. He’d seen it in other families.
Kate looked perplexed. “My dad and Lindy think so, but I’m not sure it’s quite that simple. Unlike my dad and me, my mother has always been ruled by her emotions. And right now her emotions are running at an all-time high. Add to that the fact my dad’s protesting her petition for divorce and feeling pretty hurt and angry. My mom is being really stubborn and closemouthed about whatever it is that is going on with her and—well, you can just imagine how awkward it is when they do see each other. Right now, it’s stretching it for them to say a civil word to each other. Suffice it to say—” Kate paused to draw a ragged breath “—I don’t want them up here together.”
“Too late,” a pale but elegant-looking blonde in a tailored suit said as she swept into the room, a well-dressed man in a business suit and Kate’s sister, Lindy, fast on their heels.
“Mom—Dad.” Kate flushed scarlet as Michael looked at Kate’s parents and took in the unmistakably stiff body language of a couple at war.
Kate’s younger sister lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I tried, but neither was willing to let the other go first.”
“There are some things parents should do together,” Kate’s mother said.
“This is still one of them,” her father agreed.
“Hello, Kate.” Kate’s mother bent to kiss her, her deep and abiding affection for her daughter evident. “Congratulations, darling.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Kate’s voice was muffled against her mother’s silvery blond coif.
She headed for the bassinet to look at her new grandson. “He is so darling,” she murmured proudly.
Kate’s father hugged Kate, too, then approached the bassinet from the other side. He regarded his new grandson with affection, finally murmuring, “He looks a lot like you did at that age, Kate.”
Kate beamed. “You think so?”
Her father nodded. “Absolutely.” Straightening, her father turned to Michael. He extended his hand. “I’m Ted Montgomery. This is my wi—this is Kate’s mother, Carolyn Montgomery, her sister, Lindy. And you must be Michael Sloane—the doctor who helped deliver Kate’s baby.”
“Right.” Michael shook her father’s hand, not sure this was the time to get into the details.
Ted gave him a look of sincere gratitude. “We’re very lucky you came along when you did.”
“I’m not so sure about that, if everything I just heard from the head nurse is true,” Carolyn said. She looked at Kate, then Michael. Her gaze zeroing in on him suspiciously, she asked in a low tone, “Is it true? Are you the father of Kate’s child?”

SILENCE REBOUNDED in the room. Even Lindy looked completely, thoroughly shocked. “I can explain,” Kate said, flushing.
“I think you’d better.” Kate’s father sat on the window ledge while her mother continued to pace, her high heels making a staccato sound on the polished linoleum floor while Kate filled them in on the mix-up at the lab.
“I just found out about it myself,” Michael told them.
“And he told me,” Kate added.
“I see.” Kate’s father looked grim.
No doubt he was thinking about all the legal and familial complications. Her mother looked upset, too. Whereas her matchmaking sister looked intrigued. “Michael and I have already talked about it. Everything’s going to be fine,” Kate hastened to reassure them.
Again, her parents exchanged uneasy glances that needed no verbal delineation, then her dad looked at Michael. It was obvious, divorce or no, he was speaking for both of them. “I assume that means you’re going to be reasonable about this.”
Michael nodded gallantly. “I wouldn’t think of behaving any other way. I’m not here to make trouble for Kate or little Timmy.”
Kate’s dad regarded Michael gravely. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Knowing her dad was just getting warmed up, Kate said quickly, “I’m pretty tired.” She looked at her parents, knowing at a time like this they were hard-pressed to deny her anything. “Maybe you could come back tomorrow. One of you in the afternoon and one of you in the evening?”
Her parents looked at each other, the tension that had been there earlier resurfacing. “I’ll take the afternoon,” her mother volunteered.
“I’ll take the evening,” her father said.
“In the meantime is there anything you need for me to bring you?” Kate’s mother asked.
Kate shook her head and fought the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her. She wished her parents would drop this foolishness and get back together. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“How about your suitcase, with your nightgown and robe?” Carolyn persisted.
“I’ve already promised Kate that I would go get it,” Lindy said.
“All right, darling.” Kate’s mother patted her shoulder gently.
“Call us if you need anything,” her dad said.
Her parents kissed her and left, walking far apart as if they were strangers. Lindy hugged Kate, promised to return with the suitcase and followed them out the door.
Michael stood. “I’ll go, too.”
“No.” Kate reached out and caught his hand before he could depart. “I need to talk to you a minute, Michael.” She tugged him closer until he sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry my father grilled you that way.” Kate shook her head in mounting exasperation, already knowing what Michael didn’t, that this was just the beginning of her father’s involvement in the situation. “Sometimes he can be such a lawyer.” Making mountains out of molehills.
Michael grinned, understanding and accepting her father’s protective behavior. “That’s okay,” he said gently. “In his place, I probably would have behaved much the same way. And speaking of reactions—your mother didn’t say much.”
Kate made a face and predicted dryly, “Which is another curious thing. Before the separation from my dad, she would’ve lectured me soundly and told me she knew this cockeyed plan of mine to have a child via artificial insemination would lead to trouble. Since she left my dad, she tells me to go for everything and grab as much gusto from this life as I can.”
That did sound like a mid-life crisis, Michael thought, as he playfully nudged her thigh with his and attempted to lighten the mood and get Kate’s mind off family problems she was unable to do anything about. “Hey, Timmy’s no trouble,” he teased with a wink. “In fact, as far as newborn babies go, he’s a little angel.”
Kate made a comical face at him, then chided dryly, “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it, Dr. Sloane.”
Michael bestowed on her a sexy grin and covered her hand with his. “Ah. You think I’m trouble, then.”
In a certain, very sexy way, maybe he was, Kate thought a tad wistfully. And suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Kate found after all the months alone she was in the mood for a little trouble of the romantic variety, as long as it didn’t unnecessarily complicate her life. Smiling, she said, “I think the situation we’re in is trouble.”
Michael shrugged his broad shoulders. “It is sticky, I’ll grant you that,” he said in a low, serious voice. “It doesn’t mean we can’t handle it. So far, after we both weathered the initial shock, we’ve proven that we can handle it just fine.”
His confidence—his willingness to conquer this challenge—was contagious. It lifted her spirits immediately. Unfortunately, Kate knew there were even rockier roads ahead. And she knew for certain that in the few short hours she’d known Michael, her life had changed. She wanted the chance to see where the future would lead.
Still holding his eyes, she drew a bolstering breath. “The nurse asked me earlier to fill out information for Timmy’s birth certificate. She left the forms in the drawer. You should probably have a look at them, too.”
Michael looked at her thoughtfully as he retrieved the papers.
“I didn’t know how we should fill them out,” Kate told him as he perused the sheets. “So I’ll just come right out and ask.” Kate brought herself up short. She took a deep breath, aware her hands were trembling. “Do you want your name on Timmy’s birth certificate? Do you want to be legally known as his father?”

Chapter Three
Michael hadn’t known what to expect when he had tracked Kate down, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would be so attracted to her, physically and otherwise, or be on hand to single-handedly bring their baby into the world in the back of a powder-blue delivery van. But all that had happened, and it had changed him—and probably Kate, too—forever. Just as the step they were about to take would change all their lives forever, too.
“I think it’s important for a lot of reasons that his birth certificate state the whole truth. So the answer is, yes, Kate,” he told her softly, “I do.” In fact, if the truth be known, he was now hoping for much more than that.
Kate looked into his eyes. Abruptly, she looked as overcome with emotion as he. It had been, Michael thought, one hell of an eventful day. “Then the truth it will be,” she echoed softly.
In the bassinet, Timmy squirmed beneath the white flannel blanket he’d been swaddled in and, his cherubic face pinkening, started to whimper. Michael and Kate turned in time to see his dark lashes flutter open to reveal a pair of big baby-blue eyes.
Michael smiled, amazed at the depth of the affection already welling inside him as he contemplated their newborn baby boy. “Looks like our son is waking up.”
Kate grinned, as eager to get more thoroughly acquainted with their baby as he was. “He’s probably hungry,” she stated, as a pink flush crept into her cheeks. Her glance cut briefly to Michael. “I haven’t breast-fed him yet.”
And, Michael knew, that was supposed to be done within the first five or six hours after birth. As soon as both baby and mother—who were usually exhausted from the birth—were up to it. Glad he was going to be around to witness this, too, Michael asked, “Do you want me to bring him to you?”
Kate pushed the button that raised the head of her bed until she was sitting up. Her green eyes glittered with excitement as she tucked the gently curving ends of her silky blond bob behind her ears. She shot him a grateful glance that made her seem—in his eyes, anyway—all the more angelically beautiful. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Timmy’s eyes widened as Michael slid one hand beneath his head and neck, the other beneath his back and legs, and lifted him from the bassinet. Michael grinned as Timmy stopped crying immediately and blinked at him.
“Hey, there,” Michael teased in way of greeting. “Remember me? I brought you into the world.” Timmy cooed and gurgled in response as Michael lowered him gently and put him in Kate’s arms.
Kate stroked the straight, downy soft hair on Timmy’s head as Timmy regarded her with unabashed delight. “I think he does recognize you, Michael.”
Michael studied his son’s cherubic face, deciding Ted Montgomery was right—Timmy did have Kate’s chin. And nose. And eyes. Along with his daddy’s dark, straight hair. “I think he knows your voice, too,” Michael said.
“Probably.” Kate chuckled. “I’ve done nothing but talk and sing and read to him for the last nine months.”
Somehow, Michael thought, as he went to get a diaper from the corner of the bassinet, that didn’t surprise him. He had known from the first Kate was going to be one devoted mother.
He brought the diaper back and watched as Kate unwrapped the white flannel blanket. They changed him together, marveling over his tiny perfect form, as Timmy squirmed. Deciding to reswaddle him after he’d been fed, Kate lifted Timmy toward her. Abruptly, she looked unsure how to proceed. “I’ve never done this before.”
“And you’re feeling self-conscious and would like some help,” Michael guessed, finding that perfectly understandable. He touched her shoulder compassionately, then volunteered, “I’ll go see if I can round up a nurse.”
When he returned—alone—a scant minute and a half later, Kate had lowered one shoulder of her gown, draped the white cotton diaper over one shoulder and was cuddling a loudly protesting Timmy to her breast. Trying not to think how beautiful and sexy Kate looked, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and announced as he neared, “They’re really swamped. Every baby on the floor has decided he or she is hungry now. They said maybe ten minutes.”
“I tried but I can’t get him to nurse.” Kate looked at Michael helplessly.
Knowing that wasn’t unusual for first-time mothers and their babies, Michael shut the door to her room to insure their privacy and crossed to her side. “Let’s see what we can do to get you more comfortable,” he told Kate gently, repeating what he had learned over the years as both a physician and an uncle.
“For the first few feedings, lying on your side may work best,” Michael told her with a reassuring smile. “So, the first thing we’re going to need to do is get you situated.”
Michael took a loudly squalling Timmy from Kate and cradled him against his chest. With his free hand he pressed the button that would lower the head of her bed. And then helped Kate—who was still moving a little stiffly after the delivery—into a reclining position. “And then pull your arm out of your gown entirely so you’ll have more freedom of movement,” he said.
“Right.” Kate flushed crimson.
“Okay.” Michael helped her free her arm while still maintaining her modesty as best as he could. “Can you shift onto your left side?” Keeping his actions as clinical as possible, he helped her do so. “Good. Let’s put this pillow beneath you.” He moved it longwise, so it cushioned her from head to breast. “And we’ll put your left arm up, like this, so you can rest your head on your upraised arm. And move this cloth aside.” Keeping his mind resolutely on the task at hand, he gently exposed her breast. “Now we’ll get Timmy in here—” Michael placed Timmy on his side, facing Kate, and brought the infant as close as possible to his mother “—and try again.”
Still crying and clueless about what to do next, the newborn turned away and wailed even louder. “See?” Kate cried, distressed, her whole body tensing at her son’s rejection.
Figuring the sooner mother and son connected, the better, Michael looked at Kate, asking to simply show her—through touch—what needed to be done. “May I?”
Flushing and looking a little shy, Kate nodded. Michael covered her hand with his and lifted her nipple toward Timmy’s lips. He touched the top of Timmy’s bow-shaped lips with the tip of Kate’s breast, then the bottom lip, then the top again, repeating the motion gently until Timmy’s mouth opened. Michael continued to help her as he explained, “Once Timmy’s mouth is open, place your nipple in the center so he can latch on.”
Kate’s gaze was fastened on both breast and baby. “He’s not doing it,” she said, obviously disappointed this was proving to be so difficult for both of them.
“Then let’s try it again,” Michael said, aware how silky and warm her skin felt beneath his fingers. “Upper lip. Lower.” Michael smiled as Timmy’s crying quieted and progress was made. “See, he’s starting to root around a bit. Yeah,” Michael said victoriously, as Timmy’s cheeks moved in and out in a clumsy attempt to nurse, “there he goes.”
“He’s nursing!” Kate said as Timmy stopped wailing and latched onto her breast with all his might.
“Darned if he isn’t,” Michael said proudly, feeling as contented and happy as Kate was that this first hurdle with their son had been climbed. “Now there are a few more things to watch out for,” Michael cautioned. He paused, wary of interfering too much. “If you want me to show you…”
Kate nodded and shot Michael a grateful glance. “Please,” she said, eager to learn. “Starting with how long I should nurse him.”
Michael repeated what the lactation nurse would tell Kate later. “For today, no more than five minutes on each breast. You can go ten minutes on each breast tomorrow. After that it’ll be fifteen.”
“How often will I nurse?” Kate asked, as she stroked the downy soft hair on the back of Timmy’s head.
A wave of almost unbearable tenderness moving through him, Michael advised, “Once your milk comes in, you’ll probably need to nurse him every three or four hours.”
Again, their eyes met. “What else should I know?” Kate asked Michael softly.
I’m drawn to you, and would be even if you hadn’t just unexpectedly borne me a son, Michael thought. Knowing, however, this was not the time or place for such a confession, Michael turned his attention to his nursing son. Briefly, he explained how to position Timmy to insure he had plenty of room to breathe while nursing, then said, “Make sure Timmy has a hold on the areola as well as the nipple—sucking on just the nipple will leave him hungry. And be sure he isn’t sucking on his own lip or tongue while he nurses.”
Her self-consciousness temporarily forgotten, Kate continued to nurse. She looked so beautiful and angelic it made his heart ache.
She bent to kiss the top of Timmy’s head, then asked curiously, “What happens if he does any of those things?”
“If he starts sucking on his lower lip, you can simply work it free with your fingertip while he continues to nurse. Otherwise, break the suction and start over again.” Michael continued to watch her another long moment, then glanced at his watch. “Ready to switch sides?”
Kate nodded.
Timmy protested at the interruption, but only half as vigorously as before. “This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Kate murmured. Michael noted she was beginning to look and act as completely exhausted and drowsy as their infant son.
“And it’ll get easier every time,” Michael assured her.
Kate grinned. “How do you know?”
“I’ve got four sisters.” Michael pulled a chair up beside the bed, turned it backward and straddled it. “They all have kids, and all of them nursed. It was hard for all of them in the beginning. Even for Winnie, who’s an obstetrics nurse by profession. But my mom, who’s also a nurse, coached them through it, on the phone and in person. So I know the drill—and then some.”
“Plus you have experience as a doctor.”
“Right again.”
In contented silence, they watched the baby nurse at her breast. “I think he’s falling asleep,” Kate noted, yawning.
Michael picked up Timmy’s tiny fist and kissed the back of it. “Poor fella. He’s probably all tuckered out.” Just like his mother, Michael thought. “Want me to put him in his bassinet?” he asked, when Timmy’s jaw went slack.
Kate yawned. “I think you’d better,” she said drowsily.
Michael lifted him away from her. He wrapped Timmy in the white flannel blanket and settled him on his side in the Plexiglas crib. By the time he turned to Kate, she was just as he’d left her, fast asleep. His heart going out to her, Michael slipped her arm into her gown and tucked the covers around her.
“Timmy wasn’t the only miracle today,” he murmured. Knowing she needed her sleep, he gently touched her cheek. Wishing he could kiss her, he slipped from the room.

“YOU’RE LOOKING chipper this morning,” Lindy said as she came in at ten o’clock the next morning with a brimming shopping bag in one hand, a coffee and bake shop bag in the other.
Kate knew that was true. “Maybe because I feel almost human again,” she said. She’d had a long, hot shower and shampoo and changed into her own robe and slippers. Sitting up in bed, she was smoothing the silky blond ends of her hair with a cordless curling iron. She shot Lindy a grateful glance. “Thanks for bringing my stuff over last night, by the way.” It would be a treat to face Michael Sloane in something other than maternity clothes or a hospital gown. “I don’t remember you coming in.”
Lindy opened the decaf cappuccino she’d brought for Kate and put it on the bed tray. “That’s because you were sound asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
Kate nodded, grateful for the extra sleep. “I only woke to feed Timmy.”
Opening her coffee, Lindy kicked off her shoes and settled in, cross-legged, at the foot of Kate’s hospital bed. “Why isn’t he still in here with you, by the way?”
“He will be later. Right now he’s down in the nursery, getting his own bath. They’re going to keep him there for a while.” She had to force herself to remain calm as she took a sip of cappuccino and admitted, “He’s being circumcised this morning.”
Lindy groaned in sympathy.
Kate nodded. “Yeah, I know,” she commiserated with her sister. “It sounds like it hurts to me, too, but Michael and Timmy’s pediatrician swear he won’t feel any discomfort. They’re going to use a local anesthetic, and Michael will be with him the whole time the procedure is done. And,” Kate sighed, “in the long run, it’s supposed to be better, health-wise, so we’re going to stick with tradition and have it done.”
Lindy pulled two light and flaky Danishes out of the bag. “This was a joint decision?”
Finding she was famished, Kate accepted one of the flaky buns. “Uh-huh.” The only surprise was how good it had felt, sharing that decision with Michael. What she’d thought would turn into an utter disaster had instead turned into something good.
Lindy took another sip of coffee. “I stopped by the nursery on my way to the room, and I have to tell you, I saw the name on Timmy’s bassinet.” Lindy leveled a warning look at Kate. “I don’t know what Mom will say, but Dad is going to flip when he sees it.”
Kate had figured as much. It didn’t change anything.
“It’s one thing to be grateful,” Lindy said sternly, for once being more sensible than hopelessly romantic. “It’s another to link lives with him this swiftly.”
“I know. If it had been anyone else coming into the shop yesterday, telling me something like that, I probably would have panicked and felt the need to get a whole team of lawyers immediately. But it was Michael, and he was so…reasonable in the light of such a complete and utter disaster.”
“Not to mention the fact he later delivered your baby and got you both to the hospital.”
Kate recalled how kind and wonderful and good Michael had been as he coached her through childbirth and showed her how to nurse. “And that experience brought us together very quickly,” Kate explained. It had also left them feeling unbearably close, despite the fact they were virtual strangers to each other.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I really can’t explain why I trust him as much as I do, I just do.” And somehow she knew, in her heart, that was not going to change. Even if her romantic past was telling her to proceed a lot more cautiously.
Lindy studied her. “Maybe you don’t have to explain it, maybe you just need to go with your instincts.”
Unfortunately, Kate thought, as she watched Lindy retrieve the shopping bag with a Thanksgiving turkey and a popular area mall insignia on the front of it, her instincts regarding the people closest to her had failed her more than once. But she didn’t need to think about that now.
“What have you got there?” she inquired.
Lindy beamed. “Gifts, of course, for you and the baby, from your employees at the shop. And a sample gift catalogue from Dulcie. She said you need to check this over and make sure it’s the way you want it because you need to give the printer final approval by Friday if you want the catalogues in the mail before Thanksgiving. And she also said to tell you they finished the deliveries that were supposed to be done last night, and retrieved the van, which was still in perfect shape.”
Kate thought about the upcoming holidays. Though she had planned well for the season and her very brief maternity leave, as she thought about Thanksgiving, which was roughly two weeks away, and Christmas, which was another six, she felt a little daunted. “How are things at the shop this morning, by the way?” she asked curiously.
“Busy. Can you believe you had fifty more orders for semester exam care baskets in yesterday’s mail alone? Sending out brochures to the parents of students was a great idea.”
Kate did some rapid calculations. “This brings the shop total to well over a thousand.”
“Dulcie thinks that given the increase in holiday business and your being out on maternity leave, you may want to hire some more seasonal help.”
Kate nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll call the newspaper and get an ad put in immediately.”
“Someone else could do that for you, you know,” Lindy chided. “You just had a baby.”
Kate grinned at her baby sister’s protectiveness. “As well as a great night’s sleep. I feel fine. Really. In fact, I’m raring to go home.”
Lindy frowned. Her green eyes grew troubled. “Just don’t push too hard, okay?”
“I agree with you there.” Michael pushed the Plexiglas bassinet into the room. He picked up Timmy, who was wide awake and wrapped in a blanket, and put him into Kate’s arms. “New mothers need a lot of rest.”
Lindy sighed contentedly at her new nephew. “He is so precious,” Lindy enthused while Kate held her baby close and glanced at Michael questioningly.
“The circumcision is done. He didn’t cry at all.”
Kate breathed a sigh of relief.
Lindy rose reluctantly. “Well, I better get going or I will never get that doctorate in mathematics.”
“Kate said you were a teaching assistant at Chapel Hill.”
Lindy nodded happily. “It’s a family tradition, haven’t you heard?” Lindy grinned as she bent to kiss Timmy’s cheek. “My mom and dad both went there. So did Kate.”
“So did I,” Michael said. “For undergrad and med school, which makes it even better.” Before either woman could say anything, he held up a staying palm. “Wait here a second.”
He left and came back carrying a white teddy bear with a powder-blue felt shirt emblazoned with the Carolina logo and a huge bouquet of flowers. “For you.” He handed the flowers to Kate. “And for Timmy.” He took the flowers, put them on the bureau, and put the teddy next to Kate.
“Nice,” Lindy said.
“Very nice,” Kate agreed as Timmy studied the teddy bear with wide baby-blue eyes.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Lindy gave Kate a one-shouldered hug and was off.
Kate and Michael looked at each other. Kate found herself wishing he could stay. “Do you have to work today?” Kate asked.
He nodded reluctantly. “I’ve got the noon-to-midnight shift in the emergency room downstairs. I’ll leave my beeper number here for you.” He handed her a card with the number scrawled on the back. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to give me a buzz. And I’ll be up to check on you and Timmy on my breaks. That is—” he hesitated “—if it’s okay.”
It’s more than okay, Kate thought. “I want you to be close to your son.” She wanted Timmy to have a dad. She wanted him to have Michael in his life. Not just for now, but for all the years he was growing up.
Without warning, Michael closed the distance between them all the way. He took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. Kate closed her eyes, anticipating the touch of his lips, the sweet soulfulness of a kiss that had been brewing for what now seemed a lifetime, and that was when they heard a pair of rapid footsteps screech to a halt and a very adult gasp of surprise behind them.
Reacting as if they’d been hit by a live wire, Kate and Michael broke apart and glanced automatically in the direction of the intrusion. A flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks, Kate looked at the fifty-something couple standing there. She’d never seen either of them before, but they looked familiar to her nevertheless. The woman had a head of thick, straight sable brown hair—like Michael’s—and was wearing a slim denim dress, cardigan sweater and flat shoes. The man had cropped salt-and-pepper hair. He was wearing a casual tweed sport coat, coordinating shirt and tie and slacks and had an air of gentleness about him.
“When we heard,” the woman began softly, pressing a hand to her heart.
“We didn’t believe it,” the man said for her.
“Michael!” The attractive woman propped her hands on her hips and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

IF THIS WASN’T a disaster in the making, Michael didn’t know what was.
“We didn’t even know you were dating this young woman!” Michael’s dad said.
That was because Michael had felt they had enough complications with just Kate’s family in the picture at the moment. But there was no helping it now. He strode forward amiably and brought his parents into the room.
“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Kate Montgomery and our son, Timmy. Kate, my mom, Ginny, and my dad, Hugh.”
Kate greeted them both graciously. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The feeling is mutual, believe me,” Hugh said gently, smiling at Kate and the baby before turning to his son. “Michael, I’m still waiting for an explanation.”
“First, I want to know how you found out about this.” Michael gestured his parents to chairs and shut the door behind them.
His mother looked hurt. “You aren’t the only one from Hickory who works at this hospital, remember? Tina Delaney is a nurse in oncology. She heard it from someone in radiology, who heard it from someone in the ER. She called her parents last night and told them, and they called to congratulate us.” Ginny flushed, looking both embarrassed and incensed. “And of course we had no idea what they were talking about, so we called the ER this morning to talk to you and were told you were with your new son, and they weren’t yet sure if you were coming in today or not.”
Michael swore silently, though he could hardly blame the emergency room staff, who had no idea of his decision to delay telling his family.
Hugh shot Michael a glance riddled with disappointment. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded sternly. “We waited all last night for a call.”
Noting Kate was looking pretty embarrassed and uncomfortable, Michael put his arm around Kate’s shoulders. “I wanted everything to be worked out first,” he told his parents. Briefly, Michael related finding out about the mix-up at the lab and the ordeal of Kate giving birth to their baby in the Gourmet Gifts To Go delivery van before the two of them had been given a chance to deal with the situation. “I didn’t want to call you until we knew how we were going to work all this out.”
Michael’s parents sat facing them in stunned silence. A knock sounded on the door. But at least, Michael realized, they were no longer angry with him for what they would have seen as highly irresponsible behavior.
“I didn’t really want to tell you anything unless I was going to be a part of the baby’s life,” Michael said as he went to open the door.
“And are you going to be part of Timmy’s life?” Ginny Sloane asked her son point-blank, looking as if she were unable to think about the alternative.
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Kate’s father said, as her parents unexpectedly walked in, one after the other, and joined the group.

FOR A MOMENT, silence reigned. Then introductions were made all around and Kate’s father took the floor. “Look, I know having a baby is a very emotional and exciting time in a person’s life.” Ted sent Carolyn a poignant look that spoke volumes about how much his daughters’ births had meant to him before turning to Kate and Michael. “And there is nothing more romantic than bringing that first baby into the world. But I feel the two of you are acting way too swiftly and emotionally for your own good.” He opened his briefcase.
“And to that end, it’s necessary for you both to protect your own interests, in a legal sense. So I’ve taken the liberty of having papers drawn up at my law firm this morning.”
Afraid Timmy, who had fallen asleep in her arms, would feel her distress if she continued to hold him, Kate gently leaned over and put him in the bassinet.
“This is a letter of agreement stating that Kate relinquishes all claims of financial support for herself and her son,” Ted continued as if this were the most logical thing in the world for them to be doing. “And though she clearly acknowledges Michael Sloane is—inadvertently—the father of her child,” he said with lawyerly ease, “Kate makes no demands on him, custodial or otherwise, as a parent, now or at any time in the future. In return, Michael will relinquish any and all rights to ever sue for custody of Timmy or make financial claims on Kate’s business or personal holdings.”
Kate stared at her father, aware he couldn’t have done more to extinguish the flame of attraction between her and Michael had he thrown a bucket of ice water on them. Which was, she realized belatedly, clearly his intent. “I can’t believe you did this,” Kate gasped indignantly, feeling hurt and angry beyond measure.
“Nor can I,” Ginny Sloane murmured, looking distraught as she lay a hand across her heart.
“I second that,” Kate’s mother said, staring at her estranged husband as if she’d never seen him before.
Ted held his ground. “You’ll all be grateful to me in the long run for taking care to protect both Kate and Michael from future legal action.”
“I think if these two kids should be talking anything, they should be talking marriage,” Hugh Sloane said, “if only for a short while, for appearance’s sake. Who knows?” Michael’s dad continued optimistically. “Maybe things would work out.”
For the past few hours, Kate had thought their future was ripe with possibilities—romantic and otherwise—too. But now, seeing the dissent among their families and her warring parents, she was less sure.
“At least then,” Ginny Sloane concurred as she looked at Michael and Kate, “you’d be able to tell Timmy you two gave it a shot.” Ginny shrugged. “If it didn’t work, it didn’t work.” But clearly, Kate thought, the hope was that it would work.
But she couldn’t force Michael into that. Any more than she would want anyone to force her into marriage because of something someone else decided. And having this baby had been all her idea. Michael had had no part of it until yesterday. “We’re not getting married just because of the baby,” Kate told Michael’s parents firmly.
“Agreed,” Michael said, backing her up. “There’d have to be a lot more between Kate and I for us to even consider taking that step.”
Not surprisingly, Kate noted, her parents looked abruptly relieved. “Then you won’t mind signing this document for Kate’s peace of mind, will you?” Ted asked, stepping forward.
Kate’s heart pounded as she watched Michael accept the legal documents from her dad.
“Sure I’ll sign them if it’ll make you feel better,” Michael said, grimly flipping to the last page and scrawling his name. “It’s true, anyway.” He finished writing with quick, angry strokes of the pen. “I have no intention of suing Kate, on any level, at any time now or in the future.”
Looking visibly relieved he’d bullied one person into doing what he wanted, Kate’s dad turned to her. “Honey?” he asked cordially. “Don’t you owe Michael the same peace of mind?”
Kate had to admit she didn’t want Michael to think she would ever come after him for financial support. Oh, hell. “Why not?” Kate muttered grimly, taking the pen from her dad. “I don’t have any intention of slapping him with a paternity suit, either.” Never mind asking him for money!
“If you’ll just witness the signatures…” Ted Montgomery turned first to his wife, then the Sloanes. Everyone signed on the dotted line. Finished, her dad put the papers away. “I’m glad we have that all worked out,” he said happily. “Now, about this business of the baby’s last name—”
Kate and Michael exchanged looks. On that, they were firm. “There’s no discussion,” Kate said resolutely, accepting the hand of support Michael offered her. “The name stays,” she announced as she and Michael tightly entwined fingers. “It’s Timothy Michael Montgomery-Sloane, hyphenated. He has two parents. He is going to carry both our last names. It will avoid confusion in the future.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/cathy-thacker-gillen/baby-s-first-christmas/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.