She shot him a look that held a soupçon of her usual fire. “I’m not an invalid.” Reaching for Naomi’s hand, she twined their fingers. “Don’t be mad. I didn’t want to steal Cecelia’s thunder the other night. I’m pregnant, too. And apparently not handling it nearly as well as our newly engaged friend.”
The self-derision on her face hurt Hutch. “It’s not a contest,” he said.
Naomi gaped. “You’re pregnant?” She glared at Hutch.
He held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”
“Then who?” Naomi seemed genuinely befuddled.
Maybe Simone had been telling the truth about not having a man in her life. That shouldn’t have pleased him so much. Simone tried to sit up again, and again, he shook his head. “Too soon. Stay put.”
“Fine. Anyone ever tell you you worry too much?” She transferred her attention to her shell-shocked friend. “I wanted to have a baby, Naomi. And I didn’t want to wait. So I used a sperm donor.”
“A sperm donor...” Naomi repeated the words slowly.
“Don’t look so stunned,” Simone pleaded. “It’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do.”
“But it’s not something the Simone I know would do.”
Hutch saw Simone’s bottom lip tremble. “That’s enough, Naomi,” he said. “This has been a rough day for her.”
“Sorry,” she groaned. “What’s the matter with her?”
“She’s suffering from extreme morning sickness.”
“I’m right here,” Simone snapped. “And I don’t know why they call it morning sickness. It lasts the whole damn day.”
He and Naomi looked at each other, trying not to laugh. Hutch lifted a shoulder, edging toward the door. “I really do have some phone calls to make.” He looked at Naomi. “Shout if you need me.”
In the kitchen, he prowled restlessly. Neither of the phone calls was urgent, but he had needed some space to clear his head. He already regretted his impulsive decision to take on Simone’s crisis. The odd thing was, she was the one who usually jumped without looking. There was a time when he had admired her joie de vivre and her impulsive spirit.
He’d been the older one, the stick-in-the-mud. He’d often wondered if that was why she broke up with him. Perhaps his overly conscientious approach to life had struck her as boring and pedantic.
It didn’t matter now. If they hadn’t had anything in common five years ago, that was even more true now. Hopefully, her nausea would soon settle down and he could go back to pretending she was just another pregnant woman.
* * *
Simone looked at Naomi. “Help me sit up, please.”
Naomi frowned. “Hutch said that wasn’t a good idea.”
“Are you kidding me? Since when are you in the Troy Hutchinson fan club?”
“I didn’t say I was a fan, but the man’s a brilliant doctor, and you, my girl, look like something out of a zombie movie.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Despite her protests, Naomi stood up and grabbed extra pillows to put behind Simone. “Satisfied?”
Simone closed her eyes. “I’ll be satisfied when I can eat a milk shake and a cheeseburger without puking.”
“Can I get you anything?” Naomi hovered.
“No. Thank you.” Unexpected tears stung her eyes. “I feel so stupid.”
Naomi chuckled. “Well, you should. If anybody was going to knock you up, it should have been that Greek god doctor of yours.”
“He’s not my doctor,” Simone said automatically. “And besides, we’re not anything to each other.”