Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell

Darby stole a glance toward him and fought a very feminine sigh of appreciation. God, he was breathtaking. And, for the weekend, he was all hers.

“You’ve barely spoken the last thirty miles of our drive.”

“You’ve talked enough for the both of us,” she pointed out.

He had. Blake could carry on a conversation with a stump. His gift of the gab was a trait she envied. Although she’d taken classes to help her overcome her shyness, she’d been introverted for the earlier years of her life. She hadn’t wanted to be shy, but when you preferred to have your nose stuck in a book than to drive into Pea Ri

dge to cruise the shopping mall—well, popularity wasn’t your middle name.

“Didn’t your mom tell you not to do that? Your face might get stuck like that.”

Designer aviator glasses protected Blake’s eyes from the blazing sunshine brightening their drive. If the manufacturer could hire him to model those shades, they’d sell billions. He made them look that good.

“Like what?” she asked, thinking life was unfair if one man could have been blessed with so many talents. Looks, intelligence, wit. Yet, Blake wasn’t one of those men who walked around thinking he was a million bucks. Despite his teasing about his many charms, he was one of the most genuine persons she knew. Actually, he was the most genuine person she knew. What you saw was what you got.

She liked what she saw way too much.

“Like we just drove past another chicken barn with the windows down.”

Darby bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Not long after they’d crossed the Alabama state line Blake had rolled down the windows to experience some fresh country air. He’d gotten fresh country air, all right.

“Most likely we did pass another one.”

This time it was his face that wrinkled—him who looked like he might need to pull the SUV over.

“I’ll never eat chicken again.”

Darby laughed out loud. “There are chicken barns in Tennessee. So don’t tell me you’d never experienced a chicken barn up close and personal before.”

“Apparently I’m still a city boy at heart,” he admitted unashamedly. “From the car is as up close and personal as I want to get to a barn of any type. Especially one as foul as what we smelt earlier.”

“Foul?” Shaking her head at his double entendre, Darby laughed again. Just as well she wasn’t planning to take him with her when she dropped in on her folks tonight.

Her stomach jerked again. No doubt her brothers and their wives would start pushing for her to move home. They always did. Her family hadn’t been able to understand why she’d been so driven to leave Armadillo Lake, to get her degree and make something of herself, to see the world. They especially hadn’t understood when her plans to join a traveling medical program had taken a one-eighty turn and she’d stayed in Knoxville.

Then again, they’d never met Blake.

“What were you thinking about that made you scowl?”

She should have known he wouldn’t let her change the subject. He rarely did.

“About the reunion.”

He glanced away from the road just long enough for her gaze to meet the mirrored lenses that hid his eyes. He shook his head in confusion. “Most people look forward to high school reunions, to catching up with their old classmates, seeing who married who, who has the most kids, who gained forty pounds, who still has their hair.”

“Yeah, well.” She turned to stare out the window at the growing all too familiar landscape, her belly lurching. “I’m not most people, City Boy.”

“That you’re not.” He chuckled, then surprised her by reaching across the gap between their seats and taking her hand into his.

Clasping their fingers together, he squeezed.

Her belly gave another jolt, a much larger one than before, and she faced him.

“No worries, Darby. Whatever it is that has you wound so tightly about this weekend, everything is going to be fine. You’re going to dazzle all your old classmates with your intelligence, success, beauty, and especially with your impressive date.” Smiling, he briefly dipped his head, glancing at her from above the rim of his shades. His black eyes bored into her. “I promise.”

The warmth emanating from Blake’s hand to hers almost made her believe everything would be all right concerning the reunion—that every fantasy she’d ever had of returning to Armadillo Lake and making everyone eat armadillo…er…crow, would come true.

Regarding the way every single cell in her body surged to life at how his hand still held hers, at how much she liked his hand holding hers, at how many hopes she had pinned to their spending the weekend together—well, that was another matter altogether.