if I started making clones of myself.’ He wanted to add that it would be a shame to tamper with the beautiful body she’d been given but it sounded inappropriate even in a joke. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her soft curves pressed against him right now in anything other than a sympathetic and completely professional manner.
The sobbing stopped and she lifted her head from his chest, either because she’d rediscovered her sense of humour or he’d completely creeped her out. He held his breath until he read her face and exhaled when he saw the wobbly smile start to emerge.
‘I mean, you’re a natural with Simon, with all the kids. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for parenthood.’ Her bottom lip began to quiver again in earnest and Matt made it his personal mission to retrieve that smile.
He tilted her chin up with his thumb so she stopped staring at the floor to look at him instead. She needed to believe what he was telling her. Believe in herself.
‘I’ve picked up a few child-wrangling tips along the way. Parenting isn’t easy and that parent/child bond simply needs a little nurturing. I have a few short cuts I can share with you if you promise never to breathe a word of my secrets. I would hate to dent my reputation as the resident child-whisperer.’
‘Heaven forbid. I’m sure that would break the hearts of many around here who worship the ground you walk on.’ She blinked away the tears and for a split second it would be easy for Matt to forget where he was and do something stupid.
If they weren’t standing in a hospital corridor he might’ve imagined they were having ‘a moment.’ She’d made it clear she wasn’t one of his devoted followers and yet her body language at present said entirely the opposite.
Matt’s stomach growled, a reminder he hadn’t eaten anything substantial since mid-morning, and distracted him from her dilated pupils and those swollen pink lips begging him to offer some comfort. He couldn’t go back on his word to help but he did need a timeout to regain his composure and remember who he was. That definitely wasn’t supposed to be a man prepared to cancel a hot date in order to spend some unpaid overtime counselling families.
‘Listen, there’s a pub across the road—the Frog and Peach. Why don’t I meet you over there in ten minutes to talk things over? We can grab a drink or a bite to eat and come straight back here the minute Simon wakes up.’ There was nearly always a contingent from the hospital propping up the bar at the end of their shift and he was counting on someone else to jump in and come to Quinn’s aid before he committed to something else he’d come to regret. The phone call he was going to have to make would end his most recent love interest before it even began.
She gave a wistful glance at the room behind her before she answered. The sign of a true mother thinking of her son before herself, even though she didn’t realise it.
‘I’ll leave word to contact us the second he opens his eyes.’ He wasn’t going to beg but he did want to fulfil his obligations ASAP so he could finish his working day and head home. Alone.
‘Only if you’re sure…’ Her hesitation was as obvious in her doe-like eyes as it was in her voice.
Matt wasn’t any more certain this was a good idea than Quinn but a chat in a pub had to be infinitely safer than another five minutes with her in his arms.
QUINN SCROLLED THROUGH her phone, paying little attention to the social media updates on the screen. She wasn’t in contact with any of these people; they weren’t part of her actual life. Recent events had proved that to her. Virtual acquaintances could be chock-full of sympathy and crying emoticons on the Internet but a distinct lack of physical support from anyone other than Mrs Johns next door had made her see an online presence was a waste of her valuable time. This sudden interest in what people were having for dinner, or who had the cutest kitten meme, was simply to occupy her hands and give the impression she was at ease on her own.
Matt had directed her towards the pub across the road and assured her he’d be with her as soon as he could get away. The Frog and Peach, as nice as it was, was a busy hub in Paddington and she was self-conscious sitting outside, occupying one of the much sought after tables.
She envied the carefree patrons meeting their friends to toast the end of their working day. It reminded her of the camaraderie she’d once had with her fellow teachers inside and outside of the school. A friend was the one thing she was desperately missing right now—someone she could share a laugh with, or pour her heart out to without judgement. Mrs Johns was the closest thing to that, volunteering to babysit if she ever needed a hand, but it wasn’t the kind of relationship where she could really confide everything that was getting her down at the minute. She only really had her mum to talk to on the end of the phone for that, but even then she was almost ashamed to be totally honest about her situation and admit she wasn’t coping when her mother had been her fostering inspiration. When she did return home to her Yorkshire roots, she wanted it to be a journey of triumph with Simon as happy as she’d been as a child who’d finally settled.
Quinn drained the water from her glass. After the day she’d had fretting over the surgery and making a fool of herself crying on Matt’s shoulder, she could probably do with something stronger but she wouldn’t touch alcohol while Simon was under her care. She took her responsibilities seriously and she couldn’t sit here getting pie-eyed when she still had to get them both home across the city.
‘Are you finished?’ A male member of staff was at her side before she managed to set the empty glass down.
She nodded but felt the need to explain her continued occupation of valuable drinking space. ‘I’m just waiting for someone.’
There was a brief flicker of something replacing the irritability in the young man’s eyes and Quinn’s cheeks burned as she realised it was sympathy. He thought she’d been stood up. It was the natural assumption, she supposed, as opposed to her waiting for her foster son’s surgeon, who she’d emotionally tortured until he’d agreed to meet her here.
‘I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’ She began to defend her party-of-one residency but the busy waiter had already moved on to clean the next table, uncaring about her social life, or lack of one.
Unfortunately, the jitterbugs under her skin weren’t entirely down to her anticipation of an evening in a hot doctor’s company. The excitement of a singleton let loose in the city didn’t last for ever and these days the skippety-hop of her heart tended to come from fear of what was going to happen to Simon next.
Still, as Matt finally came into view across the street there was a surge of girlish glee she’d imagined had vanished out the door with her ex. There was something about seeing him in his casual clothes that felt forbidden, naughty even. She was so used to him in his formal shirt and trousers combo, or his scrubs, that a pair of jeans and tight T-shirt seemed more…intimate.
There was something voyeuristic watching him negotiate the traffic, oblivious to her ogling. It was amazing how one scrap of plain material became so interesting when stretched across the right body, marking out the planes of a solid chest and rounding over impressive biceps. As he jogged across the road, with his jacket slung over his arm, Matt had no clue how good he looked.
Long-dormant butterflies woke from their slumber, mistaking the handsome man coming towards Quinn as a potential date, and fluttered in her stomach as she followed his progress. They quickly settled when she turned to check her
