Page 14 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

"Fair point." I take a bite of my taco, considering. "The nausea usually eases up after the first trimester for most women. Not all, but most."

"When will we know? If everything's okay, I mean."

The question holds an edge of anxiety that makes me want to reach across the table and take her hand. I don't.

"Dr. Larsen will probably schedule an ultrasound soon," I say. "Around eight weeks is standard for a first look. This is your sixth week, right?”

"Yeah." She looks down at her sandwich. "Based on, you know..."

"Right." The night we met. The night that changed everything.

A slightly awkward silence falls. I search for a neutral topic. "So, how's the library?"

"Good. Busy." Maya seems grateful for the shift. "We just got a grant to expand our children's section. I'm designing a reading nook shaped like a treehouse."

"That sounds amazing."

"It's nice to have a project to focus on. To think about something besides..." She gestures vaguely at her belly.

"I get it." And I do. I've been throwing myself into work with even more intensity than usual, staying late to review charts,volunteering for extra shifts. Anything to quiet the voice in my head that keeps repeating *you're going to be a father* on endless loop.

"What about you?" she asks. "How's the hospital?"

"Hectic. We're short-staffed in the ER, as usual." I finish my first taco. "I've been thinking about looking at private practice options after residency. More regular hours."

"Oh?" She looks up, surprised. "I thought emergency medicine was your passion."

"It is, but..." I hesitate, not sure how much to reveal. "Priorities change."

Her eyes widen slightly, understanding what I'm not saying. That I'm already thinking about how to restructure my life around the baby. Around her.

"Daniel, you don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to," I interrupt gently. "But I want to consider all options. That's all."

We finish eating in silence, watching a pair of ducks navigate the lazy current of the river. It's peaceful, sitting here with her. Easy in a way I didn't expect.

"Want to walk around?" I suggest when we've disposed of our trash. "Check out the crafts?"

"Sure."

We wander through the rows of booths, stopping to admire hand-thrown pottery and intricate quilts. Maya pauses at a display of handmade children's toys—wooden trains and soft fabric dolls.

"These are beautiful," she says, running her fingers over a small stuffed rabbit with embroidered eyes.

"They are," I agree, watching her rather than the toys. There's a softness to her expression, a hint of wonder that makes my heart ache.

The woman running the booth, gray-haired and grandmotherly, beams at us. "Are you two expecting?" she asks.

Maya freezes, her hand still on the rabbit. I step in smoothly.

"Just browsing today," I say with a polite smile. "Everything is lovely."

"Well, keep me in mind when the time comes," the woman says with a wink. "I'm here every year."

We move on quickly. Maya is quiet, her shoulders tense.

"I'm sorry about that," I say once we're out of earshot. "People in this town are—"

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