“Seriously.” She made eye contact with the elderly lady she’d bonded with while still in nursing school on her first volunteer project. “I’m fine. I just made the mistake of mentioning to Dr. Overprotective—” she flicked her thumb toward Dirk, hoping how much he meant to her didn’t show “—that I’d been feeling under the weather.”
“Nothing serious, I hope,” Judy said sympathetically, completely ignoring that Abby had said she was fine.
“Of course not. I’ve just had a little nausea and fatigue for a few days. No big deal.” At the woman’s look of concern, Abby added, “Nothing contagious.”
At least, she didn’t think so. If so, surely some of her coworkers would be having symptoms by now since she’d been fighting this for more than a week. For that matter, Dirk would be having symptoms. He’d definitely had up-close exposure the night of the Christmas party.
“I’m definitely not contagious,” she repeated, hoping to reassure her friends.
Her face brightening, Joyce clapped her hands together gleefully. “Ooh, when you walked in today, I just knew there was something different about you. Beside the fact you brought this gorgeous man with you.” The older woman sent a knowing smile Dirk’s way then returned her attention to Abby. “Just look at how you’re glowing.”
“Glowing?” Abby’s mouth dropped just as Dirk’s can crashed to the concrete floor as the woman’s meaning sank in. The sharp intake of his breath almost drowned out the loud clang. Abby was surprised the thunderous beat of her heart didn’t deafen them all. “If you’re implying… I think you’re making a wrong assumption.”
The two smiling volunteers looked at each other, then back at Abby and Dirk, their smiles fading as realization dawned. “You’re not pregnant?”
“Uh, no.” Abby coughed into her hand, trying to make sure she worded this correctly so she didn’t end up as before, protesting to the point that she was only convincing her friends of the opposite. “Of course I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.”
Dirk had used a condom. Although she’d been wrapped up in what they’d been doing, she was sure he had used protection. She’d found two opened foil pouches.
She faked another cough, whether to show her symptoms were from something else entirely or just to buy a few more seconds to think of what to say she wasn’t sure.
“You ladies are as bad as Dirk about overreacting.” She laughed as if their suggestion was preposterous. It was preposterous. Pregnant. Her. No way. “I’ve just been pushing myself a little too hard with the holidays and have picked up a minor bug of some sort at work. You know how I’m exposed to everything in the emergency room. It’s a wonder Dirk isn’t sick, too.”
But even as she gave the excuse she counted back the days since her last menstrual period and came up with a too-high number. Way too high a number. Oh. My.
This time she inhaled sharply, would have dropped a can if she’d been holding one. Her fingers curled into her palms, her nails digging painfully into the soft flesh.
Could she be? Was it possible? She’d never considered the possibility, hadn’t dared to consider her lovemaking with Dirk might leave her pregnant. They were consenting adults who’d used a condom. Not overzealous teenagers who’d had unprepared-for sex.
She wasn’t pregnant. Or was she?
She wanted kids. Someday, she wanted kids a lot. But not while unmarried and by a man who said he wanted to just be her friend. She wanted the dream. Snuggling in front of the fireplace together, sipping hot cocoa, enjoying each other’s company. She’d take his hand and place it over her much, much thinner belly from where she’d finally stuck to that exercise routine and, with hope in his eyes, he’d ask if she was. She’d nod. They’d fall into each other’s arms and be so happy together. A family. No more lonely Christmases. No more lonely ever.
But never had she imagined being pregnant, unwed and finding out while volunteering at a food bank with the prospective father having told her just the day before that they were only friends. By the look on Dirk’s face, this obviously wasn’t how he’d envisioned the moment, either.
Powerless to stop her hand, her palm settled over her abdomen. Was Dirk’s baby growing inside her? Would she give birth to a little boy or girl with eyes so blue they left the sky envious? With hair so inky black the night paled in comparison?
If so, what in the world would she do about an unplanned pregnancy by a man who she technically barely knew, but felt as if she knew better than anyone she’d ever met? A man who said he only wanted to be friends and professed not to even like Christmas?
CHAPTER SEVEN
DIRK’S ears roared with the intensity of a jet taking off inside his head. Any moment he expected the backdraft to knock him off his feet and send him crashing against the wall.
Mentally, he was already thrashing about the room. Emotionally, he’d already crashed and gone up in flames.
Abby’s big hazel eyes had widened with shock, had darkened with unwanted possibilities, with fear, then softened as her hand pressed her lower abdomen.
Hell, no. She couldn’t be. He’d used a condom both times they’d made love. He always used a condom. Always.
But, hell, how old had the condoms in his wallet been? Although he hadn’t lived the life of a monk over the past four years, he hadn’t exactly had a high prophylactic turnover rate, either. He’d never considered checking the condoms’ expiration date. They’d been, what? About a year old, maybe? God, it was possible they’d expired.
He should have checked. He should have known better. He was a doctor, trained not to make the mistakes a seventeen-year-old boy would make.
Abby might be pregnant, and it was his fault.
He didn’t want her to be pregnant.
The two women who’d hovered over them both like mother hens were obviously drawing the same conclusions.