Page 3 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor (Curvy Wives of Cedar Falls #3)

I make it to my car before the tears come.

They're hot and sudden, spilling down my cheeks as I grip the steering wheel like it's the only solid thing in my tilting world. I don't even know why I'm crying. Relief that he's real? Anger that he's so infuriatingly handsome even in wrinkled scrubs? Fear of the impossible choices ahead of me?

All of it, probably.

"Get it together, Maya," I whisper, wiping my face with the back of my hand. The dashboard clock tells me I have exactly seven minutes to pull myself together before my lunch break ends.

I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror—red eyes, flushed cheeks, mascara smudged beneath my lower lashes.

Great. I look exactly like someone who just confronted their one-night stand with a positive pregnancy test. I rummage through my purse for tissues and do my best to repair the damage, but there's no fixing the hollow feeling in my chest.

Daniel's face when he saw that test. I've never seen someone go so pale so quickly. For a moment, I thought he might actually pass out, and some vindictive part of me was glad. Let him feel a fraction of the shock I felt this morning.

But then... he said he'd support me. Whatever I decide. The words sounded rehearsed, clinical—the kind of thing doctors are trained to say to patients in crisis. But at least he said them.

My phone buzzes with a text from Lisa: *WELL??*

*He's real. A real doctor. We talked. Will call you later.*

I start the car and pull out of the parking garage, my mind replaying our conversation on a loop. The way he stumbled over his explanations. The genuine regret in his eyes when he apologized for not calling. The way he remembered where I work.

None of that changes the fact that he disappeared without a word after one of the most intimate nights of my life. None of it changes the fact that I'm carrying his child.

His child. Our child.

The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I'm not ready for this. I'm still trying to figure out who I am after Dad died, still trying to build a life that feels like mine and not just the hollow shell he left behind. How can I possibly be responsible for another human being?

But then, as I stop at a red light, another thought surfaces: maybe this is exactly what I need. Someone to care for. Someone who will love me unconditionally. Someone who will never leave.

I shake my head. That's not fair to place on an unborn child. That's not a reason to become a mother.

The light turns green, and I drive toward the library, forcing myself to breathe slowly. One step at a time. I'll get through this afternoon's children's reading hour. I'll catalog the new mythology section. I'll do my job, and tonight, I'll think about what comes next.

But for now, I just need to survive the day.

A few hours later

The library closes at eight on Thursdays. As usual, I'm the last one out, taking my time locking up after shooing the final stragglers toward the exit. There's something peaceful about an empty library—all those stories tucked away for the night, waiting patiently to be discovered tomorrow.

Tonight, though, the silence feels oppressive. My thoughts are too loud, bouncing off the quiet stacks, echoing through the empty reading rooms. I've been running on autopilot all afternoon, my body going through the motions while my mind spins in useless circles.

I step outside into the cool evening air, fishing my keys from my purse as I descend the wide stone steps. The parking lot is nearly empty—just my Toyota, Mrs. Hendricks' ancient Buick, and...

A sleek, gunmetal gray Audi that definitely doesn't belong in Cedar Falls.

Leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest, is Daniel.

I stop. He looks different than he did this morning—showered, changed into dark jeans and a forest green henley that makes his eyes appear even greener. His hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He's traded exhaustion for alertness, and the effect is... disconcerting.

This is the Daniel I met at the bar. The one who smiled at me across a crowded room and made me feel like the only woman in the world.

He straightens when he sees me, pushing away from the car. "Maya."

"Are you stalking me now?" I ask, but there's no real bite to my words. I'm too tired for anger.

"No, I—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I wanted to talk. Properly. Without me being half-dead from exhaustion or you needing to rush back to work."

"And you thought ambushing me in a dark parking lot was the way to go?"

He winces. "When you put it that way, it does sound creepy. I'm sorry. I can leave if you want."

I should say yes. I should tell him to go, to call me tomorrow like a normal person. But curiosity gets the better of me. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Everything." He gestures to the passenger door of his car. "Can I buy you dinner? Madeline's should still be open."

My stomach chooses that moment to growl. I haven't eaten since a granola bar at noon, too nauseated by morning sickness and nerves to manage anything else.

Daniel's mouth quirks up. "I'll take that as a yes?"

I hesitate, weighing my options. Going to dinner means spending more time with him, prolonging this strange limbo we're in. But it also means food I don't have to cook, and maybe some actual answers.

"Fine," I say, walking toward him. "But I'm driving myself. I'll follow you there."

His face falls slightly. "Right. Of course."

We drive separately to Madeline's Diner, a Cedar Falls institution that's been serving the best burgers in three counties since before I was born.

The neon OPEN 24/7 sign buzzes in the window, and the parking lot is half-full with the usual Thursday night crowd—a few truckers passing through, some high school kids lingering over milkshakes, the night shift from the paper mill grabbing dinner before work.

Daniel holds the door for me, and the familiar smell of grilled onions and fresh coffee wraps around me like a blanket. Madeline herself is behind the counter, her gray hair piled on top of her head, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she tallies receipts.

She looks up as the bell above the door jingles, and her face lights up.

"Well, if it isn't Lou's grandson!" she calls, loud enough for the entire diner to hear. "Haven't seen you in here for ages, Danny!"

I glance at Daniel, surprised by both the nickname and the connection. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek, but he forces a smile. "Hi, Madeline. Table for two?"

"Sure thing, honey." She grabs two laminated menus and leads us to a booth by the window. "Your grandfather was here just four days ago, telling everyone about how his boy is saving lives at Cedar Falls General. You know how proud he is of you."

Daniel nods, his smile growing more strained. "How is he?"

"Ornery as ever," Madeline says with a laugh. "Still thinks Lou's Diner is better than mine." She turns to me, eyeing me with unabashed curiosity. "And who's your friend?"

"This is Maya Sullivan," Daniel says. "Maya, this is Madeline, owner of the second best diner in Cedar Falls and the keeper of all the town's secrets."

"Sullivan?" Madeline taps her chin. "You must be James Sullivan's girl, the librarian. Your daddy was a good man. Terrible loss."

"Thank you," I say softly. "He loved your apple pie."

"Everyone does, honey." She winks at me. "I'll give you two a minute to look over the menu, but the burger special tonight is the Smoky Mountain—bacon, cheddar, and barbecue sauce."

When she's gone, I turn to Daniel. "Lou's grandson?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "Welcome to small-town life. Where I'll always be 'Lou's grandson' no matter how many medical degrees I have."

"You don't like it," I observe.

"It's not that I don't like it. I love my grandfather." Daniel stares out the window for a moment. "It's just... I've spent my whole life trying to be more than just Lou Morrison's grandson. To be my own person. But in Cedar Falls, that's how everyone sees me first."

"Is that why you drive a car that probably cost more than most people here make in a year?" The question comes out more judgmental than I intended.

His eyes snap back to mine, defensive. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like nice cars."

I raise my hands in surrender. "Sorry. None of my business."

We're saved from further awkwardness by the arrival of our waitress, a teenager with braces and a Cedar Falls High School sweatshirt under her apron. We both order the special and chocolate milkshakes.

When we're alone again, Daniel leans forward. "Look, I know I messed up. But I'm here now, trying to do the right thing."

"And what is the right thing, exactly?" I set down my menu. "Supporting me financially if I decide to keep the baby? Writing a check every month and going on with your life?"

His jaw tightens. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Because from where I'm sitting, you're the classic commitment-phobic playboy doctor with too much money and too little time for anything real."

"You don't know me," he says. "You spent one night with me. That's not enough to make those kinds of judgments."

He's right, and I know it, but admitting that feels like surrender. "Fine. Then tell me who you are, Daniel Morrison. Help me understand the man who might be the father of my child."

"I'm a third-year resident in emergency medicine," he says after a moment.

"I work eighty-hour weeks, sometimes more.

I live in a condo downtown that I barely see because I'm always at the hospital.

" He pauses. "And yes, I'm Lou Morrison's grandson.

He raised me, and he's the only real family I have. "

Our milkshakes arrive, thick and frosty in tall glasses. I take a sip, needing something to do with my hands. "I didn't know Lou Morrison had a grandson."