Free Expecting the Doctor's Baby by Teresa Southwick Page B

was referring to was about what they’d done horizontally. “And dedicated?”
    â€œMostly I think you need some pointers in how to get along well with others.”
    â€œI see. So—”
    â€œDr. Mitch.” Rhonda walked up to them and looked Sam over. “Hello, again.”
    â€œHi.” Sam smiled in her usual friendly way, giving no indication she was aware of the grilling she was about to get.
    Mitch had been dreading this encounter because his nurse didn’t miss anything. “Did you need me for something, Rhonda?”
    â€œNo.” She tucked a strand of bleached blond hair behind her ear and turned her attention to Sam. “I remember you from a couple of weeks ago. Samantha?”
    â€œRight. It’s nice to see you again. And call me Sam.”
    â€œThe pleasure is all mine, Sam, if you’re the one responsible for the positive change in our Mitch.”
    He barely managed to keep in the groan. “I’m the same lovable guy.”
    â€œHe’s made some improvement?” Sam asked, ignoring him.
    â€œImprovement?” Rhonda scoffed. “It’s a miracle. He dispenses praise and encouragement like he’s being paid per compliment.”
    Sam jotted something down on her clipboard, then looked up and smiled. “I’m so glad.”
    â€œAnd just the other day he was actually whistling.” Rhonda slid him a wicked look just to let him know she suspected that Sam was the woman he’d been unwilling to name. “Mitch is so not a whistler that the event was memorable.”
    â€œI can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that,” Sam said, smiling brightly.
    â€œYeah. He’s like the bluebird of happiness these days.” Rhonda reached for the pager at her waist and glanced at the display. “Paramedics are on the way. ETA two minutes. I’ll page you when we’ve got the patient ready for you. Gotta go. Good to see you again, Sam.”
    â€œSame here.” As the nurse hurried down the hall, Sam looked up at him and smiled. “See. A little tweaking goes a long way.”
    There was tweaking and there was tweaking, he thought. “Look, Sam, my shift is over in about thirty minutes. Have dinner with me.”
    â€œNo.” She walked away and he caught up with her in front of the double doors that separated patient trauma rooms from the waiting area.
    He put a hand on her shoulder and she slowly turned. “No? Just like that? Not even an explanation?”
    â€œI’m your relationship coach.”
    â€œExactly. You should know better than to be so abrupt. A polite ‘I’m sorry I can’t because I have other plans’ would be far less hurtful.”
    â€œIt would also be a lie. I don’t have plans tonight.”
    â€œThen have dinner with me.” He folded his arms over his chest as he looked down and met her amused gaze. “You have to eat.”
    â€œI definitely do. But not with you.”
    â€œYou’d rather eat alone?” he asked.
    She started to say something, then shook her head. “That question is like asking someone if they stopped beating their wife. But I’m going to answer honestly. No, I don’t especially enjoy eating by myself.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to seize the opportunity. “But we have a professional relationship and I won’t cross the line into personal with you. So don’t go there, Dr. Mitch.”
    â€œWho says it’s personal? We’d simply be two people sharing a meal.” He snapped his fingers. “We could even make it a working dinner. You could tweak me while we’re at it. Critique my table manners.”
    The corners of her mouth twitched, clearly indicating she was having a lot of difficulty holding back a smile. “Has anyone ever mentioned that you’re incorrigible?”
    â€œMy ex-wife,” he said.
    â€œYou were