The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? by Susan Crosby

much more suitable for him.
    “Your friendship has come to mean a lot to mealready,” he said, his breath disturbing her hair. He stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you.”
    Friendship . The word righted her world again, put her in her place. She smiled brightly, probably too brightly. “You’re welcome.”
    He went down the stairs and was gone, leaving her body aching and unsatisfied—and grateful. She was ready for marriage, a family.
    She didn’t need the complication of Dr. Ted Bonner.
     
    Ted spotted Sara Beth standing in front window, watching him. He raised a hand toward her then got into his car without waiting for a return wave. He drove off in a burst of speed.
    Why the hell had he hugged her like that? Let his hand drift down to the tempting curve of her rear? He’d been wanting to touch her since he’d come up to her bending in front of his refrigerator earlier, then later on when she’d helped him make his bed after the furniture men had left. She’d leaned over to smooth his sheets. He’d almost cupped that fine rear, had been stopped by her standing up, banging into him, a habit they’d gotten into, being clumsy around each other.
    Friends with benefits . He’d been thinking about it all day, as she’d frequently gotten into his space, brushing against him to get a better look at something, smiling at him or pursing her lips as she studied a piece. She had a quick, easy laugh, light and joyful, and a slow, smoldering heat that appeared less often, but did appear, although he had to catch her off guard to see it.
    And then there was the hug. He’d taken her into his arms without thinking, prepared to just give her a good-night hug, a thanks-for-everything short embrace. Then it had become something else. Even she had felt it. She’d moved closer to him instead of away. Her breath turned shaky. She’d gone up on tiptoe, which had aligned their hips. He’d pulled back before she could feel his reaction to her, had seen her nipples pressing against her T-shirt, an invitation he wished he could accept.
    Friends with benefits . He needed to give that more thought. Sure, he wanted marriage—but not yet, not even anything close to it. If he took a break now and then from his work, it needed to be for fun, for pleasure, not with an eye toward the future, no matter how much he wanted otherwise.
    For pleasure . The thought settled, a hazy fantasy that lingered as he parked and went up to his loft. He admired the newly decorated space for a minute, then decided to take a shower. His answering machine caught his eye, and he remembered the message from Tricia earlier, a call he’d ignored while Sara Beth was there.
    Friends with benefits. Tricia would fit the bill, at least the benefits part, and without complications. She’d invited him to dinner next Sunday for his birthday. He had no doubt they’d end up in bed, if that was what he wanted.
    And he wanted. But not Tricia.
    He wanted Sara Beth O’Connell. Exclusively.

Chapter Eight
    A few days later Sara Beth peered into Lisa’s office. “You texted?”
    Lisa gestured her in. “Shut the door, please.”
    She was looking more stressed each day, her mouth set, a furrow between her brows. It was hard for Sara Beth to see her this way.
    “How about we go out tonight?” Sara Beth asked, sitting. “It’s hump day. Half-price drinks at Shots. Free fries with the burgers.” The always-crowded pub and grill was nestled in the center of the Cambridge medical community.
    “I can’t. I really wish I could.” Wisps of Lisa’s long hair had fallen around her face, a slight messiness that was rare for her, and it was only eight o’clock in the morning.
    Sara Beth leaned toward her. “I miss you. And I’m worried about you. You’ve lost weight. You can’t afford to lose weight.”
    “I’ll be fine.” She sat back, all business. “I need an update on your investigation, please.”
    Sara Beth frowned at the change of subject.