Page 13 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

"Hey, Mike." We shake hands. "How's it going?"

"Can't complain. Daughters are happy and well." He nods toward a pair of little girls in matching pumpkin sweaters, holding hands as they peer into a booth selling handmade jewelry. "What about you? Don't usually see you at these things."

"Just thought I'd check it out. Take a break from the hospital."

Mike raises an eyebrow. "Alone?"

I hesitate just long enough for his cop instincts to kick in. His eyes narrow slightly.

"Waiting for someone," I admit.

"Ahh." A knowing grin spreads across his face. "Anyone I know?"

Before I can answer, his radio crackles from his hip. "Gotta take this," he says, already backing away. "Have fun on your date, Doc."

Is it a date? Maya and I never defined it. We're getting to know each other for the baby's sake. Accelerated friendship, I called it. But as I check my watch for the third time in five minutes, my nervous energy feels decidedly date-like.

And then I see her, walking toward the park entrance…

Maya is wearing a rust-colored dress that falls just below her knees, paired with a denim jacket and ankle boots. Her dark hair is down today, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. No glasses—contacts, maybe—and the slightest hint of makeup that brings out the warmth in her eyes. She looks beautiful, approachable, and slightly nervous.

She spots me and raises a hand in greeting, and suddenly I'm walking toward her, drawn like a magnet.

"Hi," she says when we meet in the middle. "Am I late?"

"No, I'm early." I resist the urge to touch her, to offer my hand, or lean in for a hug. We haven't established those boundaries yet. "You look nice."

"Thanks." A hint of color touches her cheeks. "It's weird to be out of librarian clothes."

"Weird good?"

Her mouth quirks up. "Just different." She looks past me to the festival. "I haven't been to one of these since high school. Dad used to have a booth selling old books."

"What would you like to do first?" I ask. "There's food, crafts, music..."

"Food," she says immediately. "I'm starving. Apparently growing a person works up an appetite."

I laugh, relieved by her straightforwardness. "Food it is."

We make our way into the park, falling into step beside each other. The food trucks are clustered near the river, a mouth-watering variety of options from wood-fired pizza to tacos.

"Any cravings I should know about?" I ask.

"Nothing weird yet," Maya says, scanning the options. "Though I did eat pickles with ice cream at 2 AM the other night."

"That's... inventive."

"It was disgusting." She wrinkles her nose. "But somehow exactly what I needed."

She settles on a pulled pork sandwich from the local barbecue joint, while I opt for fish tacos from a truck I've never seen before. We find an empty picnic table with a view of the river and sit across from each other. Maya takes a massive bite of her sandwich, closing her eyes in apparent bliss.

"Good?" I ask, amused.

"You have no idea." She dabs sauce from the corner of her mouth. "I've been nauseous all week, but today I woke up ravenous."

"That's normal," I say, then catch myself. "Sorry, you probably don't need me to doctor-splain pregnancy symptoms to you."

She laughs. "Actually, I don't mind. The internet is terrifying. Everything either means I'm having a healthy pregnancy or I'm about to die horribly."

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