Confidential: Expecting! by Jackie Braun Page B

beyond the sex.
    Sex…for weeks…without interruption from—
    Another thought niggled as she contemplated that time frame, and nausea rose up to taunt her. Mallory pressed a hand to one temple. The room seemed to spin. She wished she could blame it on tequila, but she’d sipped nothing stronger than water. And thank God for that, given what she was thinking right now.
    “Oh, no,” she moaned, and slumped back in her seat.
    Vicki’s eyes widened. “Mal, you okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
    Mallory shook her head. “I’m not okay.”
    “Are you going to be sick?” Vicki glanced around in a panic for their waitress. “I’ll get the check and meet you outside.”
    “No, no.” She waved off the suggestion, though a little fresh air wouldn’t have hurt. “I’m not sick, Vicki. I’m…I’m…”
    Her friend leaned forward. “You’re what, hon?”
    Pregnant? In love?
    She couldn’t bring herself to say either aloud. Instead she murmured, “I think I may be heading toward hooked.”
     

    Later that evening, alone in her apartment, she read the display on the early test kit she’d purchased on the way home. She was indeed going to have a baby. Logan’s baby.
    Slumping down on the closed lid of the toilet, she let out a long breath. She was scared to death and excited beyond measure.
    She’d been physically attracted to Logan from the very start, but she’d suspected for a while now that so much more was at stake. Maybe that was why she hadn’t told Vicki or anyone else about the relationship. She hadn’t been ready to face what was happening.
    Her heart was on the line, the same heart the other men in her life—the really important ones—had made a bad habit of breaking.
    Now even more was on the line than that.
    How was Logan going to feel when she told him he was going to be a father?
     

    Logan whistled as he wrapped up his work at the radio station for the day. His Doctor-in-the-Know program had ended an hour ago and on a professional high note. For once he’d felt as if he really was doing some good. A caller had complained about her elderly mother’s recent odd behavior. Sadly, it sounded like the early signs of dementia, although it could have been a drug interaction or even a vitamin deficiency. Off-air, he’d stayed on the line with her, suggesting a list of questions the woman should ask her mother’s doctor.
    Perhaps reaching out to people who felt they hadnowhere else to turn for advice was every bit as important as serving clients in a private practice. Perhaps even more so.
    All he had to do before leaving for the weekend was finish some paperwork and catch up on correspondence from fans. Logan made a point of clearing his e-mail at the end of each week and selecting a few from listeners who’d been unable to contact him on-air, which he then discussed in his Monday morning “mailbag” segment.
    As he sifted through the e-mails, though, his mind was on Mallory. They had plans for the evening. There was nothing especially new in that. They’d spent time together almost every day, meeting for lunch, going out for dinner, taking evening sails on Tangled Sheets.
    He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He didn’t want to. The more time he spent with the woman, the more time he wanted to spend with her. She was one of the most fascinating people he’d ever met. So many damned layers. And he was enjoying peeling back each one to see what was revealed.
    His interest was not that of a psychiatrist, though his training made it easier to understand why she could be so confident in some aspects of her life and so utterly vulnerable in others. If he ever met her father—not that it looked like there was much chance of that—Logan was more likely to sock the guy in the jaw than to shake his hand. That was saying a lot, since generally he frowned on violence and considered it a poor substitute for civilized discourse. But give him ten minutes alonewith Mitchell Stevens and Logan