Page 8 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

"Of course." He signals for the check, and Madeline herself brings it over, eyeing us with curiosity.

"Everything tasted good?" she asks, looking between us like she's trying to solve a puzzle.

"Perfect as always," Daniel says, handing her his credit card before I can protest.

"Tell your grandpa to stop by when he can," she says as she walks away. "I've got a new pie recipe I want him to try."

Daniel fakes his smile. "Will do."

The evening has grown cooler outside. I wrap my cardigan tighter around myself as we walk to our cars.

"I'm off this weekend," Daniel says as we walk to the library parking lot where my car still sits. "If you want to talk more. Or just... I don't know. Get to know each other a little better."

The idea is both appealing and terrifying. "I'll think about it."

We reach my car, and I unlock it, turning to face him. In the dim glow of the streetlight, his face is all angles and shadows, beautiful in a way that makes my heart ache. For a moment, I remember what it felt like to kiss him, to feel his hands on my skin, to believe that something magical was happening between us.

"Thank you for dinner," I say, breaking the spell.

"Maya," he says, and there's something in his voice that makes me look up. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... whatever you decide about the baby, can we start over? As friends, at least?"

The question catches me off guard. "Why would you want that?"

Daniel takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Because that night wasn't just physical for me. There was something... I felt connected to you in a way I haven't felt with anyone in a long time. Maybe ever."

My breath catches. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"I know. I'm an idiot." His smile is self-deprecating. "But I'd like a chance to be less of an idiot, if you're willing."

I should say no. I should protect myself from this man who has already hurt me once. But something in his eyes makes me hesitate.

"I'll think about it," I say again, but softer this time.

He nods, accepting the non-answer. "Good night, Maya."

"Good night, Daniel."

I get into my car and watch in the rearview mirror as he walks back toward his flashy Audi, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool night air. And despite everything—the shock, the anger, the fear—I find myself hoping, just a little, that we might find a way forward together.

Chapter 4 - Daniel

I sit in my car long after Maya drives away, hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, trying to make sense of the last twenty-four hours.

Yesterday morning, I was just Dan Morrison, an overworked ER resident with a grandfather who talks too much and a flashy car. Now I'm... what? A potential father? The guy who knocked up the town librarian after a one-night stand?

The thought makes me dizzy. I lean my head back against the leather seat and close my eyes, but all I see is Maya's face—those expressive dark eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, the way her mouth turns down slightly at the corners when she's upset, how her shoulders square when she's trying to be brave.

She's terrified. I could see it written all over her, even as she tried to hide it behind anger and pragmatism. And why wouldn't she be? I'm terrified, too, and I'm not the one whose body is about to change. I'm not the one who will face the judgment of a small town like Cedar Falls, where everyone knows everyone's business and rumors spread faster than wildfire.

My phone chimes with a text. For a wild moment, I think it might be Maya, but it's just Ethan, a fellow resident, asking if I want to grab a beer tomorrow night.

I don't respond. I can't imagine sitting in some bar, making small talk about difficult patients or hospital politics while this bomb ticks away in my life.

A baby. My baby. Maybe.

I turn the key in the ignition, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but this empty parking lot. The Audi roars to life, and I pull out onto Main Street, driving aimlessly through the quiet streets ofCedar Falls. I pass the high school I graduated from, the football field where I broke my arm sophomore year, the park where Grandpa Lou taught me to throw a baseball. All these landmarks of a childhood I couldn't wait to escape, only to end up right back here.

I find myself driving toward the outskirts of town, toward the small house with the weather-beaten porch. Lou's place. I haven't been by in almost two weeks—an inexcusable stretch given that he's seventy-two and lives alone. But the thought of sitting across from him at his kitchen table, trying to make conversation while keeping this secret lodged in my throat, is more than I can handle tonight.

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