Bluegrass Baby

The idea that his one-time lover might be avoiding him left him a bit bewildered, if truth be told. Women had a tendency to cling to Kyle, to make him set boundaries in a relationship.

They didn’t ignore his calls.

As he stepped outside the hospital for some much-needed fresh air, he spotted Milla outside the Foster Clinic, sitting under a tree and eating a sack lunch. She hadn’t seen him yet. And she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Maybe now was a good time to talk to her.

He cut across the lawn, felt the sunlight on his face, caught the sound of a lark in one of the trees overhead. As he approached, she glanced up.

Had her eyes widened in surprise?

“Hey,” he said by way of greeting. “You look comfortable.”

She didn’t, though. She looked more like a skittish fawn caught in the meadow alone. She offered him a shy smile that looked forced. Brittle. “Hi.”

Okay, so his instincts had been right. She’d been avoiding him. For some reason, that didn’t sit well.

“Let’s talk about the other night.” The words flowed from Kyle’s mouth without any effort on his part, surprising him. He usually wasn’t one to bring up intimate subjects.

But he didn’t like the idea of Milla going her own separate way without talking to him. He didn’t like it at all. Even in his love-’em-and-leave-’em days he had shown more courtesy than that.

She set her sandwich on the napkin covering her lap. “You’re right. We should talk about it.”

“Are you having regrets?” He wasn’t sure why he asked, since regret was written all over her pretty face.

“We shouldn’t have become involved like that, under the circumstances.” She bit her bottom lip, then looked at him as though he should know exactly what was on her mind.

“What circumstances are those?”

She paused for a while, trying hard to be tactful, or so it seemed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to date, since we work together.”

She was implying professional ethics played a part in her rejection, but he figured there was more to it than that. She’d known the circumstances before this…this affair or whatever it was. She’d known it when they’d had dinner, while they’d made out like teenagers in the parking lot. And she’d known it after following him home.

If it hadn’t bothered her then, why now?

Because of your father, you idiot.

Where had that archaic insecurity come from? Kyle had put that bastard stigma out of his mind years ago, ever since going off to college.

But he’d moved back to Merlyn County. And for some damn reason, the memory of the scorn he’d grown up with rushed to the forefront of his mind today, reminding him of who he was and where he’d come from.

His mom had been ostracized from her community, a small town outside of Binghamton, after falling for Billy Bingham’s charms and bearing his firstborn son without the benefit of marriage.

As a kid, Kyle had felt as if no one truly accepted him, including his father and the entire legitimate branch of the Bingham family. It had seemed as if they were all waiting for him to screw up.

He’d since come to grips with his illegitimacy, but Milla’s comment ruffled the shame he’d tried hard to bury. “Does this have anything to do with my father?”

“No,” she told him, yet she worried her lip, suggesting she might be lying or holding something back. Suggesting that her predawn disappearance did have something to do with his paternity.

“But?” he prodded her to continue, to admit what was really bothering her. And he almost hated himself for doing it.

What did he care? Milla Johnson wasn’t the only pretty young woman in Merlyn County.

Yet, right now, she was the only one who interested him.

She blew out a sigh. “I’m not sure whether you know this or not, and it certainly doesn’t make a difference to me, but my aunt Connie died giving birth to one of your father’s kids.”

Kyle’s footloose daddy had sure gotten around. A carefree bachelor who spent money like water and captured the heart of almost every girl in the county, the late Billy Bingham had fathered a passel of kids, all of whom he’d taken care of. Three carried the Bingham family name, while several others preferred not to be acknowledged.

Growing up as one of Billy’s brats, Kyle could certainly understand why. In fact, he’d often thought his own life would have been a hell of a lot more tolerable had his mother chosen not to give Kyle his father’s name.

Milla’s cousin was one of the siblings Kyle hadn’t known about.

“So, sleeping with your cousin’s half brother makes you uneasy. Or is it more than that?”

“No, I’m okay with it.” Milla wrapped the remains of her sandwich in the napkin and dropped it into the paper bag resting on the lawn beside her. She stood and met his gaze. “My mom still harbors a lot of resentment toward your father. But I don’t. The reason we shouldn’t see each other is because we work together. A relationship would make things…sticky.”

He supposed she had a point, but regret clogged his throat.

That was weird. He’d never had a woman turn him down before. And not for a reason like Milla had given him. Hell, they could remain discreet at work.

Or was it something else? Something she hadn’t admitted?

Could their lovemaking have disappointed her?

Kyle had never had to worry about whether things had been good for the lady in his bed. And he doubted that was the case now. But maybe things hadn’t been as great as he’d thought they were.

He could ask her, he supposed. But she didn’t seem to want to talk about it anymore. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to, either.

Kyle Bingham didn’t chase after a woman. Never had; never would.

It wasn’t his style.

As Milla watched Kyle go, his white coat flapping in the summer breeze, tears welled in her eyes and the bitter taste of regret lingered in her mouth. She felt as though she’d thrown away the winning ticket to the lottery.

But a woman couldn’t lose what she’d never really had.

Milla certainly didn’t love Kyle Bingham, but he was the kind of man she could easily fall for, a man who had the power to hurt her. Deeply.

It was better this way.

Really.

But there had been an undeniable attraction between the two of them. Okay, there still was, on her part. And what was worse, the sex had been great. So great that it would probably haunt any relationship she might have in the future, since she doubted another man could measure up.

Still, there was more to a relationship than hot sex. At least, that was the rose-colored dream she clung to.

Milla wanted a man she could trust to love her, to make a lifetime commitment, to stick around long enough to have children and watch them grow up—unlike her own dad, who hadn’t called or dropped her a line since the day he’d driven away.

Besides, she and Kyle did work together, at least until he finished his residency. And that only made things awkward. Unnecessarily complicated.