Page 22 of Secret Baby for Dr. Grump

It’s not Nancy. It’s someone I never expected to come to my doorstep. I stare in shock, noting that while Luke looks well put-together, his hair’s a bit messed up…probably from my hands.

Who am I kidding? He looks hot as hell with that messy hair.

Stop thinking about that.

The Luke I’ve been working with always looks neat and perfect down to his combed hair. If I didn’t know better, I would think he rushed from the hospital toward this place…which can’t be, right?

“Takeout?”

I blink, taken aback. “What?”

Brown eyes peer into mine, then gesture at my wallet. “Who did you forget to pay?”

“Oh. Just a sit—neighbor.” Stop. Talking. I clear my throat, about to explain, but I suspect that I’ll stick my foot in my mouth the more I talk about this particular topic. So I switch topics. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried.”

“Worried about?”

Luke gives me a pointed look. “You said there was an emergency, but you didn’t say what and left immediately.”

Oh, I don’t even remember. I just remember getting the text and panicking a bit, especially since it took a phone call for me to get the full news from Nancy and to assure her that I was on my way home. All I got was that Riley was sick and…

Riley.

Oh, God.

The panic returns, strong enough that a whimper gets stuck in my throat. My defense mechanism kicks in and I frown at him, struggling to keep the whimper in check.

“Then you should have called me and asked.”

“I did.”

Oh. Nervously, I hurry to grab my phone from my bag, my mind in a jumble as I try to keep my panic at bay. In truth, I’m also stalling because I don’t know how to deal with this yet.

Do I invite him inside so he doesn’t worry further? Riley’s door is closed and she’s fast asleep, but…

No.

Then do I make up a lie or something? Or just tell him point-blank to leave without explaining anything?

I look down at my phone, frowning further when I see the missed calls and the two texts he sent me: first, to ask if I’m okay, and second, to call him as soon as I get his message. I want to blame him for this scenario, but in truth, it’s my fault for not checking my phone right away.

“Liv, what’s the emergency?”

His tone is urgent, but the switch from Miss Davis to Liv today sends a shiver down my spine. I shake it off.

“It’s nothing. My neighbor Nancy texted me to report an incident, but it wasn’t as life-threatening as I thought. It’s all solved now.”

“Life-threatening?”

“Not life-threatening. I just assumed it was, but it’s not.”

I can tell he’s confused and brace myself for the question: what was the incident? I frantically scan my mind for something to pop up, but it’s stubbornly blank.

Fire? Water leakage? Neighborhood thief?

“I see.”

---