He frowned, puzzled. “What’s what?”
“The E. In your signature. E. Jefferson Bradford. It just occurred to me that I’m sleeping with a man whose first name I don’t even know.”
Jeff groaned. “This is the important question you just had to ask?”
“Yep.” She smiled enticingly down at him. “What’s your first name, Jeff?”
He rolled onto his side, turning his back to her. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me in an hour, at six, and I’ll make dinner for us.”
“Jeff!” She grabbed his shoulder and pul
led him onto his back again. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“I know. And I’m not going to.”
“You won’t tell me your first name?” she demanded indignantly. “Why not? You know all my names.”
He gave her a bland smile and reached up to pat her cheek. “I’ll tell you my first name on the day we get married.”
“You’ll…what?” Openmouthed, she stared down at him.
“You see, it’s like this,” he continued calmly. “I hate my first name. I never tell anyone my first name. Only members of my immediate family know what it is. I’ll tell you when you’re part of my immediate family.”
And then he rolled over.
Autumn glared at the tanned width of his back, imagining all the painful things she could do to it. This was his idea of a marriage proposal? This from the man who’d courted her with flowers and candy and Valentines? Whatever happened to getting down on one knee and begging?
Not that she wanted him to propose, she assured herself hastily. She hadn’t even gotten around yet to admitting that she loved him. She certainly wasn’t ready to consider marriage. But he could have asked!
“I,” she informed him coldly, “am going to take a shower. Enjoy your nap.”
“Take a bath,” he muttered in response. “And keep that arm dry.”
She let out her breath in an irritated huff and slipped from the bed, deciding to take a very long bath.
The water had just stopped running in the bathroom when the telephone rang. “Jeff, would you get that?” Autumn called. “Tell whoever it is I’ll call back later.”
Jeff reached out for the receiver on the bedside table, propping himself against the pillows. He expected the caller to be Webb, checking on Autumn. “H’lo,” he greeted, stifling a sleepy yawn.
There was a pause, and then a woman’s voice asked hesitantly, “Is this Autumn Reed’s number?”
“Yes, it is,” Jeff replied, straightening and pushing a hand through his hair. “She can’t come to the phone right now. Can I give her a message?”
“This is her sister, Spring. Your name wouldn’t be Jeff, would it?”
Jeff lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m Jeff Bradford. Has Autumn mentioned me?” he asked, pleased with the idea. He could never be sure with Autumn.
“Of course. You’re the pediatrician she’s been dating.”
“That’s right. And you’re the pregnant optometrist,” he said with a grin.
Spring laughed. “Well, yes, I guess I am. It’s nice to meet you, Jeff. In a manner of speaking, of course.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. Maybe we can do this in person someday soon.”
“I’d like that. So how is my sister?”
Taking the question literally, Jeff told Spring about the accident, reassuring her that Autumn would be fine in a few days.