He looked up as Lane walked out. Today, she had her hair in a French braid and wore a black and cream suit. As he opened the door for her, he thought, “She looks like she could have walked out of a fashion show.”
“Where to? Lady’s choice.” He noticed that she still had on that damn boulder.
“How about Aunt Em’s Diner,” Lane replied.
Mick laughed. “Craving desert, are you?”
During the murder investigation a few months ago, he had taken her to lunch at the diner because she was craving pie. Of course, that was the day he’d found the murder weapon that had been planted under her bed. The day he’d had to take her in for questioning. The day Bellini had come to the station like a knight in shining armor to rescue her from the big bad detective. No, their last trip to Aunt Em’s hadn’t worked out so well. He hoped today would go better.
He parked, walked around the SUV and opened her door. As they walked into the diner, he thought she looked a little pale. But when they entered she turned deathly white and he barely reacted quickly enough to catch her so she didn’t fall on the floor. He grabbed his phone, dialed 9-1-1, gave them his cop code and asked for an ambulance.
*****
Lane woke up in the ER with an IV in her arm and Mick hovering over her.
“How do you feel,” he asked.
She shook her head. “Good, I’m good. Where am I?”
“You fainted at Aunt Em’s. You’re at Shawnee Mission.”
He could barely keep his tone civil. He was torn between concern for her and contempt for Bellini. The doctor who had examined her had seen the engagement ring on her finger and assumed he was the lucky fiancé as she congratulated him, not on the upcoming marriage, but for the baby they had on the way.
“I did what?”
She’d fainted only once in her life. It was when she was pregnant and the smell of greasy food had over powered her. Oh, the smell of the greasy diner was the last thing she remembered. She was looking at Mick and tried to turn away, but it was too late. She vomited all over him. Oh, God. Her mind was spinning out of control. Yes, she’d missed her period, but she was fourty-nine and she’d thought she was going through the change.
She squinted her eyes at him. Her voice was barely audible. “Am I … pregnant?”
Mick had grabbed a towel and was cleaning himself off the best he could. She’d vomited all over him the first time they met. She’d had a migraine then and the smells of death and stale popcorn in the theater had caused her to projectile vomit all over his suit.
“You’re asking me?” His voice was a low growl. What the hell? Bellini had knocked her up and was nowhere to be found. She’d said she hadn’t talked to him in a while.
She looked at him, her blue eyes wide, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Well, since you brought me to the ER and you’re the only one here at the moment who might have spoken to the doctor. Yes, Mick, I’m asking you.”
God, he’d been in love with her since the first moment he’d met her. He continued to hope she would realize that she needed a full grown man, not some pup who had a really bad habit of screwing any woman who stood still for long enough. Maybe that wasn’t fair to Bellini, but right now he didn’t care. Ben Bellini might be his basketball buddy, but he wasn’t feeling very friendly toward him just now. Lane was here, in the hospital, and was pregnant and dehydrated and God knew what. She was fourty-nine, that meant a high risk pregnancy, the doctor had told him before Mick explained that he wasn’t the fiancé. No, he wasn’t the fiancé; he was just the schmuck who was in love with her.
Mick was fifty-two, and about to become a grandfather. The last thing he needed was a baby, but if that baby belonged to Lane Parker, then sign him up. He was back where he’d been two months ago. He’d walk into hell and sell his soul to the devil, if Lane Parker would love him. This might be the break he needed.
Mick reached out and took her hand. “Yes, you’re pregnant.”
“Mick, do you think you could find the doctor for me?” She reached for her phone and called her office. Meg picked up on the first ring. “Meg, I’m going to be out for the rest of the day. Yes, everything’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The doctor came into the cubicle. “Mrs. Parker, I’m Doctor Bohnam. Congratulations, you’re pregnant. I guess you didn’t know.”
“No, I had no idea. Is everything else okay? Is there any reason I can’t go home now?”
“No, you were a little dehydrated. Morning sickness I’m guessing. You need to see your own doctor as soon as possible. There are increased risks with a pregnancy at your age.” The young female doctor leaned toward Lane. “Although I hope I look as good as you do when I’m your age.”
“Thank you? Are there discharge papers or something I need to do?” Lane couldn’t believe how stupid, insensitive, and crass some people could be, but it wasn’t her job to educate either the world on etiquette or the doctor on her bedside manner.
“I’ll send the nurse in.”
Pregnant. Well, wasn’t that something? Pregnant. She knew she needed to talk to Ben, but he’d said he needed a break and he was in the middle of that huge trial. She needed to get home. She needed to call her doctor and get a recommendation for an obstetrician. Pregnant.
Mick came back in as the nurse was finishing the discharge paper work. Lane looked at him. “Can you take me back to the office so I can pick up my car?”
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Mick, I’m pregnant, I’m not helpless.” Why did some men think that being pregnant meant a woman was suddenly helpless? She hoped the exasperation she felt hadn’t come through in her tone.
“Sure, let me go bring the Explorer up to the door.”
She shook her head. Apparently he didn’t agree that she wasn’t helpless, well she wasn’t going to waste her breath arguing.
Chapter 4
God how tiring
Mick drove Lane back to her office. He knew he should strike while the iron was hot. Bellini seemed to be out of the picture, Lane was pregnant. She needed a man and he wanted to be that man.
“Look, I understand that you’re pregnant and not helpless, but let me follow you home. You fainted.” He smiled. “It’s my duty to protect and serve. Let me make sure you get home all right.”
She smiled back at him. Hadn’t he said something like that months before? She’d had a migraine and he’d insisted on not only driving her home, but staying with her until Ben arrived. The headache business made sense. His wife, Gloria had died of a brain tumor, and Lane’s headaches had brought the memory of Gloria’s death front and center for him. The pregnancy though, she didn’t know what was making him act all grouchy and protective over her pregnancy. But, what could it hurt if he followed her home.
She smiled at him. “That’s thoughtful of you, Mick.”
He’d followed her home and walked her into the house to be sure she was safely inside and looked around. Just as he thought, there was no sign that Bellini had been near the place.
Lane turned toward him. “Thanks, Mick. I appreciate your help today. I think I’m just going to change and have a nap.”
She was giving him the bum’s rush toward the door. Fine, she needed a nap. He’d come back this evening. His window of opportunity was open and he wasn’t going to give up easily.
Lane called her doctor’s office as soon as she’d gotten rid of Mick. She’d left a voice mail message on the nurse’s line saying she was pregnant and asking for names of obstetricians who specialized with pregnancies in women over 40. She’d changed into her jeans and was sitting in the family room in a recliner with her feet up waiting for the call back. She had her laptop and was searching the internet for anything and everything she could find about pregnancy after the age of 45. There were mixed reviews. Her favorite was the item that said it was virtually impossible to get pregnant with your own eggs after the age of 45. Well, virtually wasn’t literally and she was living proof. There were several websites that discussed issues around pregnancy for “older” women, and she surfed from site to site.