Hoover Medical Plaza, 11:01 a.m.

Chet flipped through another magazine. Kim, the receptionist, had promised he wouldn’t have to wait long. He hoped she didn’t let him down. He needed this appointment. But he and Cook were wasting valuable time, and as nice as Chief Harris was she wouldn’t be too happy about that.

Cook, his partner on this task, jammed his cell back into his pocket. “We need to grab lunch after this, man. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.” Chet closed the magazine he’d thumbed through and set it aside. He stared at the back of the receptionist’s head beyond the sliding glass that separated the lobby from the sign-in desk, hoping she would turn around and notice that he was still waiting.

He didn’t have time for this… but he had to know. Worry wrapped around his chest and squeezed like a vise.

“What’s the deal with the uptight coroner lady? Sylvia Baron?”

If Cook hadn’t said her name as if he were relishing a thick, juicy steak, Chet might have thought nothing of the seemingly innocuous question. But Chet could see where this was coming from and, worse, where it was going.

He looked to see that the other four people in the waiting room were buried in magazines or their cell phones. “What the hell, Cook?” he whispered. “Dr. Baron is so far out of your league you can’t even smell her perfume.” He made a face and shook his head.

Cook leaned closer. “No, no, you got me all wrong. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Chet lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t bullshit me, Officer Cook,” he said under his breath. “The woman is the daughter of a senator. She was born with a silver spoon up her ass. That’s what makes her so uptight.”

Cook grinned. “I was thinking it was the absence of a good lay. I’d be happy to take care of that particular problem for her. She is hot.”

“She is about eighteen, twenty years older than you, bro,” Chet reminded him.

“I got no problem with that,” Cook assured him. “I love older women.” He looked around as if he feared he’d just been overheard. “Not the chief, of course. I mean she’s hot and all but she belongs to Burnett.”

Chet shook his head again. “You should never repeat any of that out loud ever again. Trust me, if you want to live, you should keep all that to yourself.”

He hoped he’d never said anything that stupid when he was Cook’s age. Depression set in on the heels of that thought. God, he was old. Thirty-one this coming weekend.

Damn.

“You just wait,” Cook said with all the cockiness of a twenty-three-year-old who didn’t understand how life worked just yet. “If I get the chance, I’ll have the doc loosened up in no time.”

Chet laughed. “That’s assuming you can get close enough for her to even notice you’re breathing.”

“I’ll get close enough,” Cook guaranteed. “She’ll be noticing a lot more than my respiration.”

Fortunately, the nurse popped her head out and called Chet’s name. “I’ll be back.” He hesitated before following the nurse. “We are not here. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And how are you today, Mr. Harper?” the nurse asked, as she led the way to an exam room.

“Great. Thank you.”

He hoped.

After being weighed, having his vitals taken and waiting ten more minutes, Dr. Bolton finally showed up

“It’s not time for your physical,” she said, surprised to see him.

Chet was lucky. He never got sick. “Next month.” Now for the touchy part. “I have a question about that surgery I had after Chester was born.”

“The vasectomy?”

Chet’s gut felt queasy. “Yes, ma’am. I was wondering what the protcol is for getting it reversed.”

She studied him a moment. “I see.”

He felt like a total sleazeball. What was it about having a doctor say I see that made a person feel like they’d done something wrong? Maybe because most of the time they had? What the hell had he been thinking? Worse, how the hell was he going to explain this to Lori? She insisted she wasn’t interested in having kids for now. Didn’t even want to discuss the possibility. But there was a big difference between choosing not to and having the option taken off the table.

He should have looked into this before. He’d heard of guys getting the procedure reversed. He’d figured that was what he’d do if the need ever came up. When he’d started doing his research a few weeks ago the possible complications were a big nasty surprise.

“I met someone and the relationship is progressing and I… need to know.”

“You haven’t told her?”

Why was it those four words, far worse than I see, sounded like a death sentence? The thought of telling Lori made him want to throw up. Mainly he just didn’t want to make a mistake by not being adequately prepared for the next step. The other night they’d even talked about the kind of house they might buy together one day. He hoped he hadn’t waited too long already.

“Well, as you will recall, both the urologist who did the surgery and I counseled you about that. It was a big decision, not one that should have been taken lightly.”

“It’s what my wife wanted.” Why couldn’t he just have an answer? “I was trying to save my marriage.”

Dr. Bolton didn’t say anything to that. She didn’t have to. The marriage had fallen apart anyway.

“Okay,” she finally said. “There is a procedure, as I’m sure you know if you’ve done your research, for reversals. It takes several hours of surgery to reconnect the plumbing, so to speak, and then some time in recovery before you can go home. Usually, if there are no complications, you can be in and out in a day. There’s considerable pain and some downtime from work. A day or two. Sexual activity can be resumed in about three weeks.” She gave a little shrug. “If you’re asking me can it be done, the answer is yes.”

“What’s the success rate?” According to his research, since it had been only three years there was a higher success rate.

“Considering the short time since your original surgery, there’s a good chance. Fifty percent or better in most cases. There’s a test to see if your body has started producing sperm antibodies. If it has, then the likelihood of success is very poor.” She placed his chart on the exam table they wouldn’t need today. “There are risks involved with any surgery. We would need to get you in to see a good surgeon and have him discuss those issues with you, work up the necessary labs before moving forward. The surgeon who did your vasectomy is retired, but there are several others I would recommend.”

“How soon can we do that?” He was anxious to learn all he could so he and Lori could talk about this. He didn’t want to tell her until he knew what they were up against. The idea of her finding out before he told her scared the hell out of him.

What really terrified him was the possibility of her being hurt because he kept this from her. To keep a secret from the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was just wrong.

“I’ll have Kim take care of it.” Dr. Bolton hesitated before moving on. “Chet, you’re a good man, and if this woman is the kind of woman who deserves you, you need to be completely honest with her. There is no other bigger killer of relationships than deceit.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bolton. I’m going to make this right.”

Back at the desk and feeling like a cad, he waited for the appointment to be made and paid his copay. Cook wasn’t in the lobby. That made him nervous as hell. By the time he was out the door, Chet was sweating bullets. He found Cook in the parking lot near the car talking on his cell.

Instantly, Chet’s heart rate doubled. He’d had to silence his phone. He slid it from his pocket to ensure Lori hadn’t called.

She hadn’t. He managed a breath. Damn, he didn’t like this sneaking around. He didn’t see how guys cheated.

When Chet walked up, Cook ended the call. “I called in lunch over at Pete’s Subs. He’s holding a table for us.”

Chet shook his head as he climbed into the driver’s seat. How nice it must be to have just one worry—when he would eat next.

“Guess who eats at Pete’s Subs every Thursday?” Cook dropped into the passenger seat.

“You’re kidding.” This guy had it bad. Maybe food wasn’t his only worry.

“At twelve thirty on the dot with her boss.”

Chet started the engine. “Did you ever consider that maybe she’s already getting what she needs from her boss? Leeds is rich. Being the county medical examiner gives him some amount of power in the community. Ladies like Baron go for old guys like that.”

Cook harrumphed. “No way. He’s gay. I checked.”

“I don’t even want to know how you check to determine another man’s sexual preference.”

“I have friends who are gay and bisexual,” Cook informed him. “Now who’s uptight?”

“Just making you aware of how a statement like that can be misconstrued,” Chet pointed out.

“Did you get your shot?”

Chet had told Cook he needed a tetanus booster. “Good for another ten years.”

He just hoped the plumbing was still good for more than shooting blanks.