Sue MacKay - A Father for Her Baby

A while? How’s that for a joke? Why wasn’t he laughing? A while. Far too long. Huh? No. She meant not nearly long enough. Didn’t she? Oh, yeah, definitely not long enough. Yet here he stood, a few feet from her, as big and strong and virile as ever. And that was with layers of thick warm clothes covering that body she apparently still remembered too well.

You shouldn’t be remembering a thing about that amazing year. You’re long over him and the hurt he caused. True? Absolutely.

She fought the need to revisit Grady and everything he’d meant to her, instead aimed for calm and friendly, as though his unexpected appearance didn’t matter at all. ‘What are you doing here?’ Big fail. Her voice rose as though a hand gripped her throat. Memories from those wonderful carefree days she’d stashed away in a mental box some place in the back of her head were sneaking out and waving like flags in a breeze, threatening to swamp her.

Swallowing hard, she focused on now, not the past. Why had Grady turned up? Golden Bay was her territory. Not his. He’d only come for summer holidays and that had been years ago. He’d be visiting. But who? Not her, for sure. Her tummy sucked in on itself, setting Flipper off on a lap of her swimming pool, nudging Sasha every few seconds, underlining how unimportant Grady was in the scheme of things.

Sasha dug deeper than she’d ever done before for every bit of willpower she could muster to hold off rubbing her extended belly. She would not draw those all-seeing blue eyes to her pregnant state. That was hers alone to cope with. She certainly didn’t need Grady asking about her baby.

His smile seemed genuine, though wary. Which it damn well ought to be. ‘Hi, Sash. This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you while I was here.’

Sash. That certainly set free a load of hot memories. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched. Grady still drawled her name out like he was tasting it, enjoying it.

He couldn’t be. He’d lost any right to those sensations the day he’d told her he didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet he was checking her out. Her pulse sped up as that steady gaze trawled over her, starting with her face and tracking slowly down her chin, her throat, over the swell of her breasts under the thickness of her jacket, on down to Flipper. As his gaze dropped further the breath she’d been hanging onto trickled over her lips. He hadn’t noticed the six-month bulge. Guess the thick jersey and heavy jacket she wore made her look larger than normal anyway.

Now his gaze had reached her legs—forever legs, he used to call them. Another memory leaped out of the box. Grady’s strong hands gently rubbing sunscreen from her toes to the tops of her thighs. Slam. The lid shut firmly.

Then Grady stepped right up to her and enveloped her in those strong arms she would not remember. Her head bumped against the chest she’d never found the likeness of again. And out of nowhere came the need to lay her cheek against him and tuck her hands around his waist. Even to tug that shirt free and slide her hands over his skin.

No, Sasha, you can’t. Are you that stupid you’ve forgotten his parting words? That memory never went into the box. That one you kept out in the open as a warning never to make the same mistake.

Except she had got it wrong again. Had learned nothing in the years since Grady. She jerked backwards. Too quickly for him to let go of her, so that her baby bump shoved forward, right into his solar plexus.

His head snapped up, those startled eyes registering shock. He pulled away from her fast, as though he’d walked into an electric fence. In the shadows and flashing lights from the emergency vehicles she saw a multitude of questions spinning her way. He pushed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, forced his chest out and splayed his legs slightly. Such a Grady stance. The don’t-mess-with-me posture even while his face showed how much he wanted to ask her about that bump.

Tough. Her baby had nothing to do with him. He’d want to know who the father was, no doubt wondering if it was someone he knew from way back when they had been part of a whole crowd of teens at the beach. He could guess all night long, he’d never get it right.

He looked away, looked back at her. Tugged one hand free and rammed his fingers through his thick hair. Stumped.

She blinked as her throat clamped shut on the delayed shock charging up her body, opening that box of memories again, wider than ever. I remember you very well, Grady O’Neil. Too well. I remember—too many things I’d prefer not to. The air trickled out of her lungs. Those memories were capable of melting all the black ice on the Takaka Hill road.

Why had she never considered this moment might happen? Because Takaka had been their playground only when they’d been teenagers knocking around together. Knocking around? That was one way of describing what had gone on between them. They’d been inseparable. Totally in love with the intensity of teenagers overdosed on hormones. She’d stupidly thought they’d be together for ever.

So wrong about Grady. So wrong about the greaseball she’d walked away from four months ago. She really needed a ‘how to’ book on establishing perfectly balanced relationships with the opposite sex.

She closed her eyes. Opened them. Nothing had changed. Grady still stood in front of her, questions blinking out, begging for answers. No way, sunshine. Not telling you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she croaked, ‘I didn’t realise you knew Mike.’

‘I met him two days ago when I dropped by the medical centre. He and Roz invited me to have dinner with them tonight, which is where I was when this call came in.’

Jonty called from the open back doors of the ambulance, ‘How do we get these stretchers out of here?’

Saved by the fireman. Sasha hurried to clamber inside the wide vehicle and unlock the stretchers from the wheels they wouldn’t be using tonight.

‘Ta.’ Jonty grinned. Then pulled a grim face. ‘We’re bringing Lucy up first so you and Grady can do what you have to with her in the warmth of the ambulance.’

I have to work with Grady? Her skin broke out in goose-bumps, even as she gathered her strength around her like a mantle. ‘Sure.’ She pressed her lips together and started getting out equipment they’d need. She’d work with the devil if it meant helping Sam and Lucy.

The devil might be easier to get on with.

Blinking back a sudden rush of tears, she tried to concentrate on the job. Damn her tear ducts. They’d taken on a life of their own since she’d become pregnant.

The ambulance rocked as Grady clambered up the step. Did he have to suck up all the air? Surreptitiously she studied him, saw the pinching at the corners of his delectable mouth. Absurdly she wanted to reach out and touch him, run her finger over those lips and say, Hello, how’ve you been? Great idea, Sasha. Not.

‘Sash, can you move back a bit so I can get inside?’ His vivid cerulean eyes locked onto her and the bottom fell out of her stomach. That memory box lifted its lid again as she looked deeper into those eyes that used to twinkle at her while sending her hormones into a dance, eyes that had undressed her, grown slumberous with desire. Eyes that had turned the colour of thunderclouds as he’d told her they were over. Eyes that now held nothing but a simple request.

So he was playing the friends card. She’d do that too. Cool, casual. Aloof even, but friendly.

Flipper chose that moment to kick hard, making her gasp. Sinking down onto the stretcher frame, she rubbed her side. Felt another nudge from her girl. This baby had an attitude problem. Reminding her mum exactly what her new life was all about—her daughter.