Alone in the classroom, Caden started loading himself up to leave. He threw the strap of his medical bag over his left shoulder, the bag that held the adult dummy over his right shoulder, then he picked up his clipboard full of the inevitable paperwork in his left hand, the bag for the infant dummy in his—
“I’ll get that.”
The woman he didn’t want to keep thinking about beat him to it, startling him in the bargain.
“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to sneak back in. These shoes are quiet.”
He nodded at her shoes, some kind of sporty little loafer with a rubber sole. “No wonder you could leave the class so quietly for your call.” Do not look at her legs. “Aren’t you going to the pub with the rest?”
“It didn’t seem fair to leave you with all the cleanup.”
He reached for the bag she’d taken.
“I’ve got it.” She lowered her voice, although they were alone. “A pregnant lady should be able to carry a baby, right?”
“You fainted less than an hour ago. Give me the bag.”
She lifted the bag a few times like it was a barbell. “This isn’t even ten pounds. I got it.”
He grabbed the handle and took it from her. “Sorry, but it violates every man-code out there to let a pregnant patient be my pack mule.”
“Former patient.” But Tana stuffed her hands into the pockets of the modest khaki shorts that revealed such sexy, sleek legs and followed him obediently…for about two steps. Then she jogged ahead of him to get the door with a smirk. “You didn’t say I couldn’t be a doorman.”
He shook his head. “Stubborn?”
“As a pack mule.”
“Well, then, lock the door behind you while you’re at it.”
She jogged ahead of him and got the door for the main entrance, too. The sun had set, but the sky was still a lighter shade of gray than the parking lot asphalt. Only two vehicles remained, his pickup truck and an older-model van. It must have been hers, but she trailed him to his truck in silence.
Caden wasn’t sure what she wanted. “Planning on getting my truck door for me, too?”
“I wanted to thank you. It was very nice of you to let me take the test even though I skipped out on most of your class.”
He reached over the side of the truck to set the smaller dummy in the bed, then shrugged the heavier, adult one off his shoulder. “You were a pro. I’d be willing to bet you’re a CPR instructor yourself.”
“It’s been a long time since I taught it, but my lifeguard cert is current.”
“Lifeguard? That’s pretty cool.” Do not imagine her in a red bathing suit. Do not. He put the medical bag in the truck bed, then opened his own door, just in case she was under the delusion that he’d stand by and let her do it for him.
“Not as cool as a firefighter, but thanks. My old job required me to be certified. That way, they didn’t have to hire a lifeguard for swim meets. I coached at Houston City College.”
“Again, pretty cool.” He stood by the open door of his truck. He couldn’t climb into the cab and shut the door on her, but she made no move to leave him.
Caden had intended to have a getting-to-know-you conversation with Montana McKenna over a drink, with the hope that it would lead to more. That hope had been crushed, but he found himself having that conversation in a parking lot despite himself. “You’re coaching the women’s swim team, I take it?”
“I’m the director for all the aquatics. Men’s, women’s, diving.”
That sounded impressive to him. What an interesting woman…to be just friends with.
She’d turned her attention to the sky. He watched her watching nothing.
She noticed the silence after a moment. “Don’t tell me you’re struck speechless at the thought that a woman is leading the men’s team?”
“Not that you’re a woman. Just that someone as young as you has such a senior position. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, but I’m over thirty.”
“Like I said, you’re the youngest head coach I know. I’m right there in the thirties with you, but I’m not the city’s fire chief.”
“Yet?”
He shrugged. He’d been moving up the ladder at a good enough pace. He was in no rush to reach the point where he’d spend more time pushing papers on a desk instead of going out on calls. It would happen when it happened. As a lieutenant, he was in charge of his team, but he was still part of the action, part of every call, every shift. He enjoyed being a firefighter and paramedic.
Speaking of being a paramedic…she was still his patient, as far as he was concerned. “We should be having this conversation while you eat something. Do you feel okay to drive to the pub?”
“I was going to walk. It’ll take fifteen minutes to get there on foot, or fifteen minutes to drive there with all the stop signs and one-way streets. At least if I walk, I won’t waste time circling the block, looking for a parking spot for the swim-mobile.” She nodded toward the van.
The Tipsy Musketeer was just off campus, but she’d been laid out on a classroom floor not very long ago.
“It would be better if you didn’t walk it. You need to be putting calories in, not burning them off. I can drive you over, if you don’t want to move your van. Hop in.” He gestured toward the passenger side, keeping things in the friend zone. He was not going to escort her around the front of his truck. He was not going to get the door for her as if they were on a date. She was taken. Pregnant. Really, really, already taken.
He kept sports drinks and nutrition bars in his truck, part of the set of gear he always had on hand for his go-bag, because there were no lunch breaks while a fire burned out of control. He unzipped the duffel he stored behind his seat and took out a bottle, then climbed into the cab and handed it to her. “Sorry that it’s not cold. Drink it anyway.”
She took a swig. “At this rate, I’m not going to eat anything at the pub, because I’m going to be running to the bathroom every five minutes.”
“That’ll be a good sign. If you don’t have to go, then you’re not drinking enough.”
He glanced at her as they waited for a red light. He was accustomed to talking about bodily functions with patients all the time, so he talked about it too easily. He probably needed more of a filter when he was off the job.
Tana didn’t seem offended. She looked good in his truck. She smelled good as she held the drink between her bare knees, pulled a ponytail holder off her wrist with her teeth and pulled her hair up and back. He caught the smell of a flowery shampoo again.
That was irrelevant, again.
“That was my free medical advice,” he said. “You know what that’s worth.”
She laughed. “Aren’t pregnant women famous for having to go to the bathroom all the time, anyway?”
She had a nice laugh, not a giggle, not a guffaw. They’d be at the pub in a matter of minutes. He’d shake hands with the lucky man who’d seen her first, drink a beer, go home and be absolutely no worse off tomorrow morning than he’d been this morning, even though he now knew what her laugh sounded like.
“It’s going to make coaching a fun challenge this year. The locker rooms aren’t that close to the pool. The big meets are crowded. Multiple schools, men’s, women’s, diving all going at the same time. I might have to throw a few elbows to get from the pool deck to the locker room.”
He sneaked another peek at her as he drove. She had a faraway look in her eyes as she watched the town go by. She was saying all the right, light things, but she looked a little lost.
He was imagining things. She was a bright woman with a great job and a baby on the way. “I bet you can throw an elbow like no one’s business. You’ll make it work.”
She drew in a deep breath, held it, let it go. Maybe that was a swimmer thing.
“It’s going to be so weird.” She slowly shook her head. “I can’t even imagine this season anymore. I don’t know how pregnant I’ll be.”
“One hundred percent pregnant.” It was an old joke.
Her smile was fleeting. Forced, too. “I’m not sure when my due date will be.”
There was absolutely, positively no way he was going to ask her the question he’d asked dozens of other female patients in dozens of medical situations. When was your last period? No way in hell.
“Drink up,” he said.
“Sorry.” She downed half the bottle. “You probably don’t want to chitchat about pregnancy with some woman you just met. It’s just that you’re practically the only other person in the world who knows about it. You, me and the doctor. I found out today, during your class.”
“That was your phone call?” He remembered his sister-in-law’s face when she’d made the big announcement over a family dinner. She’d been beaming with happiness. Even before the announcement, Caden had known something was up, because she’d been as antsy as a kid trying to keep a secret at Christmastime.
Tana hadn’t looked very happy about anything while she’d executed those chest compressions on the CPR dummy.
“I’m sure your friends will be toasting you with cranberry juice tonight.”
Tana flinched a little. “No, keep it secret. Please.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to be making that announcement. I didn’t have anything to do with it.” He laughed through a prickle of some somber emotion. “You don’t want to tell your friends?”
She didn’t laugh at all. “No. They’re super nice, but they’re also my coworkers. Shirley coaches diving and reports to me. Pregnancy and a new job aren’t the best combination. Technically, an employer can’t discriminate against you, blah, blah, blah, and all that, but I intend to have my plans squared away before I break the news to anyone at the university. I need time to prove myself first.”
Caden pulled the truck into a spot on Athos Avenue, the historic main street of the town, and killed the engine. The silence made the cab feel too close for the distance he was trying to keep.
“Your secret is safe with me, even if I didn’t already have to follow patient confidentiality rules.” He didn’t want to watch her guy arrive at the pub, didn’t want to see the way she’d take him aside to tell him the good news privately, but she deserved to have her moment of bursting with happiness. “You’ve got to tell someone the good news.”
She raised an eyebrow and pointed at his chest.
“Someone besides the paramedic who keeps telling you to drink more. Will the father of the baby be coming tonight? Do you have family around here?”
“I’ll head back to Houston this weekend. Some news should be given in person.” She sounded pretty grim about it. She chugged the rest of the bottle, then she opened the truck door and stepped down to the curb.
“Tana…” Shut up, Sterling. Shut up.
She looked up at him in the last of the gray twilight, all big brown eyes in a too-pale face once more.
“Are you okay?” he asked as gently as he could ask a friend. “Usually, having a baby is a good thing, but… Is this not good news, maybe?”
She held her breath again.
He held his.
Then she exhaled, and he swore some of the tension left her shoulders. “No, you’re right. A baby is good news. My parents aren’t going to be too thrilled, that’s all. They have a very rigid idea of what things should be done in what order, but we thirtysomethings are adults. We can do things in whatever order we want to, right?”
“Right.”
At least she hadn’t said the father of the baby would be unhappy with the news. Her thirtysomething adult of a man better stand by her side when she told her parents. Caden would, if he were him. A woman like Tana didn’t come along every day. And if she were carrying his child?
The idea gave him another odd prickle of jealousy or wistfulness or something. This evening was going nowhere good.
“Let’s go get some food,” Tana said.
“Actually,” he began, then stopped to clear his throat. “Actually, I’m going to have to take a rain check. I start my shift at dawn tomorrow. I’ve got to get some stuff done at my house tonight.”
It was a flimsy excuse, and judging by the way her smile slipped, she knew it.
“I wish you could stay.”
Her sincerity killed him. She was something special—and she was going to head down to Houston to tell a man in person that he was going to be a father.
“Thank you for everything,” she said. “The test, the glucose tablets, listening to me talk about pregnant women and locker rooms. It was really nice of you. All of it. You’re a—a really nice guy.”
“I’ll see you around.” He probably would, too. Masterson was a big college but a small town. Nine months was a long time to not run into somebody.
She stepped back and put her hand on the door that would shut them off from one another. Her frown had returned.
The second before the door closed, he called her name. “Hey, Tana?”
“Yes?” She waited, hand on the door.
What? What are you going to say? He couldn’t get the contrast between her and his sister-in-law out of his head. Every woman deserved to be as happy as his sister-in-law had been.
“Since I’m the first person in Masterson who knows you’re expecting, I get to be the first person in Masterson to congratulate you on the big news.” His smile was not forced. “Congratulations, Montana McKenna.”
“Thanks.” It took a moment, but she smiled. It started small, even shy, but she ended up beaming at him. “Thanks. Really.”
Happy. Beautiful. That was how she should look, even if it blinded him.
“Good night,” he said.
“Good night.” She stepped back and shut the door.
He started the engine, but he didn’t back out of his space until he’d watched her cross the street safely, open the etched-glass door of the pub and disappear inside.
“Goodbye, Montana McKenna.”