Page 15 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

"Nosy," she finishes. "I know. I grew up here too, remember?"

"Right." Sometimes I forget that Maya is as much a part of Cedar Falls as I am, with all the complicated history that entails. "Do you want to leave? We could go somewhere else."

She considers for a moment, then shakes her head. "No, I'm okay. Just caught me off guard."

"We should probably get used to it," I say wryly. "Small town, unexpected pregnancy..."

"God, the gossip." She looks horrified. "By the time I start showing, everyone will be counting backward to figure out when it happened."

"Would it help if we came up with a cover story? Secret engagement? Whirlwind romance?"

She snorts. "Because that's so much more believable than 'we had a one-night stand and here we are.'"

"At least it's a good story for the kid someday," I offer. "Better than 'we met in college and got married after graduation.'"

That draws a genuine laugh from her, the sound warm and bright in the autumn air. "True. Though we might want to edit out some details."

We've reached the small stage where the band is now playing, a local group covering folk rock classics. Couples sway to the music on a makeshift dance floor of flattened grass. Without thinking, I hold out my hand.

"Dance with me?"

Maya looks at my outstretched hand, then up at me, surprise written across her face. "Here? Now?"

"Why not? We're supposed to be getting to know each other, right? I'd like to know if you dance."

She hesitates, and for a moment I think she'll refuse. Then she places her hand in mine. "I warn you, I'm terrible."

"I find that hard to believe," I say, leading her toward the other dancers.

"Believe it. My dad used to say I dance like I have two left feet, and both of them are asleep."

I laugh, placing my other hand lightly on her waist as we begin to sway to the music. "I'll take my chances."

Despite her warning, Maya moves with grace, falling easily into rhythm with me. We're not quite embracing, there's still space between us, but I can smell her strawberry shampoo, can feel the warmth of her through the denim of her jacket.

"See?" I murmur. "You're a natural."

"The bar is very low at small-town festivals," she replies, but she's smiling.

The band transitions into a cover of "Landslide," the singer's voice a husky contralto that spills over the crowd like honey. Maya's expression turns wistful.

"My dad loved this song," she says softly. "He used to play it on his old record player on Sunday mornings."

"You miss him a lot."

It's not a question, but she answers anyway. "Every day. But especially now. He would have been so excited about a grandchild."

Her voice catches on the last word, and without thinking, I pull her closer, my hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back. She doesn't resist, letting her head rest against my shoulder for just a moment.

"I'm sorry he's not here," I say into her hair.

"Me too." She pulls back slightly, composing herself. "What about your grandfather? Have you told him yet?"

"No." The question makes me tense involuntarily. "Not yet."

"Are you going to?"

"Of course. Just... waiting for the right time." The truth is, I've been avoiding Lou's calls all week, unsure how to tell the man who raised me that I'm about to become a father under less-than-ideal circumstances.

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