baby. My love.’ Sniff. ‘I promise you, Flipper, I’m going to be the best darned mother you’d ever wish for.’ Sniff. ‘I love you so much already.’ Would love cover all her failings? Help her make wise decisions regarding just about everything? Would her love make up for the lack of a father?
Tossing the towel in the general direction of the drying rail, Sasha fumbled for a tissue and blew hard.
No, Grady, the job’s not up for grabs. As much as my baby needs a dad, I’m not letting you in. It’s bad enough you shoved my love back in my face, and on a bad day I might even take another chance on you, admit extenuating circumstances, but what if you left again? That could hurt Flipper, which is non-negotiable. So, byebye, Grady.
But, for the record, her real father’s out of the picture, too. He made it clearer than a fine winter’s day that he wants absolutely nothing to do with this child. As far as I’m concerned, he’s had his chance.
Kick.
‘Hey, baby girl. You should be sleeping in after your late night.’ Dropping the soggy tissue in the waste basket, Sasha picked up her knickers and stepped into them. Reached for her bra, which got tighter by the day. ‘You know we’re running late, Flipper? The centre will be buzzing with people who’ve knocked themselves about over the weekend, playing rugby or netball, plus the usual line-up of colds and flu.’ The zip on her pregnancy trousers caught. ‘Flipper, you’re putting on weight.’
As she shoved her arms into her blouse there was a loud pounding on her front door. ‘Who the heck?’ Just what she needed, a visitor when she should already be on the road. Then she relaxed. It’d be Jessica. There’d been a message on the answering-machine when she’d got in to call her friend urgently, no matter what the time of day or night. Fairly certain Jessica would be phoning to warn her about Grady’s reappearance, she’d opted to wait until she saw her at work rather than talk for what had been left of the night about how to deal with him.
Heading for the front of her cottage, she left buttoning her blouse and tugged on a woollen cardigan. She swung the door wide, shivering in the cold blast that immediately whacked her. ‘Hey, you can save your breath. I already...’ Her voice petered out as her eyes encountered the one person she’d never expected to see at this moment.
‘You already what?’ Grady asked in such a normal tone, like he always dropped by her place, that the temperature of her blood went from normal to boiling in a flash.
Remain calm. Breathe deep. ‘What are you doing here?’
Grady’s eyes widened but otherwise he remained unperturbed. ‘I need a ride to the medical centre. My car’s at Mike’s.’ His hand slid through that wonderful, nearly shoulder-length black hair that she refused to remember running her fingers through. ‘I presume you’re heading that way shortly.’
The heat in her veins evaporated immediately. A ride to the centre? In her car? He was doing something so mundane as asking a neighbour for a lift and yet she wanted to yell no at him. Yearned to close her door in his beautiful face and lean back on it, while pretending that the guy on the other side meant no more to her than yesterday’s lunch. So much for not letting Grady get to her.
Be calm, act rationally. Do the right, the sensible thing. ‘No problem. Give me a minute. I’ll grab my jacket and bag.’ She didn’t try to sound chirpy. Too tired for that. And wired. Grady mightn’t have kept her awake last night but she hadn’t forgotten for an instant that she’d seen him, that he was back, that she’d missed him more than she’d ever guessed. That her body went a little crazy whenever he was near. Shouldn’t pregnancy dull the sex buzz?
A buzz he didn’t seem to be feeling as he said, ‘Thanks. I’m covering for Mike this morning while he catches up on much-needed sleep. They didn’t get back from Nelson until about five.’
The vague hope that she could drive fast, dump Grady at Mike’s and get on with her day vanished. They’d be in the same building most of the morning until she headed off on her rounds. She’d be unable to avoid him. Even if she didn’t see him she’d hear his deep voice when he talked with patients as he led them to his consulting room or when he took a coffee break in the kitchen. So? What happened to doing friendly? Grady seemed to be managing that. Surely she could? Or didn’t he feel anything about the past? Had he got over it so well that he really thought friendship was possible?
Get real. Grady told you he didn’t love you any more. What was there to get over?
Spinning on her heel, she left him on the doorstep and headed for the kitchen to collect her gear and something to have for breakfast once she got to work.
‘Sash,’ he called after her.
Spinning back, she glared at him, holding in the pain that using the diminutive form of her name caused. Today she would not lower herself to plead that he refrain from using it. Instead, she slapped a hand on her hip and, barely resisting tapping her foot, waited.
‘Sorry. Sasha.’ His chest lifted, fell back into place under that navy jersey that fitted him like a second skin, accentuating all the details of his chest she’d prefer to forget. The tip of his tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth. ‘You might want to take a few more minutes and finish getting dressed.’
What? She glanced downwards. Great. Her blouse was only half-buttoned, exposing her new, getting-bigger-by-the-day cleavage. Her feet were bare. Heck, she hadn’t put any make-up on yet or done her hair. ‘Make that ten minutes.’
* * *
Grady watched as Sash did that spin-on-her-heel thing again. Her back was straighter than straight, her long, mussed hair bouncing as she charged away. And his belly squeezed hard on the boiled egg he’d eaten half an hour ago. Did those golden locks still feel like silk? Did she still enjoy having them hand-combed by someone else?
The wind roared across the lawn, pelted his back with cold and knocked the door against the wall. He stepped inside and closed winter out. Now what? Did he wander through the house like he was welcome? Or wait here just inside the door like a nervous kid outside the headmaster’s office? Like he’d ever done that.
He strode towards the door opposite where Sash had disappeared, hopeful of finding the kitchen. What if her partner was there? Then he’d front up, introduce himself and explain why he was here. He would not say he’d deliberately come by to meet him, to find out who he was and see if they already knew each other.
That baby bump was still there, hadn’t disappeared overnight. Hadn’t been a figment of his overactive imagination. Breakfast rolled over. Regurgitated egg tasted disgusting. Hadn’t tasted that flash first time round, come to think of it. He’d eaten on autopilot, knowing he’d regret it later if he didn’t have breakfast but not overly interested in what he ate. His head space had been filled with images from last night of Sash. Angry, cautious, smiling—not at him—shocked, and very, very protective of her unborn child.
The cupboard that was obviously the kitchen was empty. No partner here. Grady didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. The moment of reckoning had only been delayed.
‘Right, let’s go.’ Sasha’s hand appeared in the periphery of his vision as she snatched up keys lying on the bench.
‘Sasha.’ Grady knew he should stop right there but the words kept on coming. ‘Do you live here alone?’
‘Yes,’ she called over her shoulder, as she strode away to the front door. Her hand on the door handle tightened
