Leah Martyn - A Mother for His Baby

Leaving him to pick up the pieces of the life they could have had together.

In his more fanciful moments, Brady likened the hurt she’d left behind to a thorn embedded so deeply it could never be removed. He could only hope that one day enough scar tissue would have formed over the hurt so that he barely felt it any more.

And maybe someday he’d find someone special to share his life with. And maybe not. Oh, hell, it was all too difficult, he thought, pulling back the sleeve of his white shirt to glance at his watch.

His mouth compressed slightly. Another couple of hours should see his official duties here ended and he could decently make his exit.

And next week he would begin a new phase of his life. The small rural town with its ring of blue mountains was calling him. He just hoped and prayed he’d made the right decision.

* * *

The newlyweds had left the reception and the farewells were still echoing in Jo’s head as she made her way swiftly along the city block to the parking station.

Some of the guests were going on to a nightclub and Fliss had tried to coax her along, but Jo had declined. She had to drive back to Mt Pryde early the next day to be ready for surgery on Monday.

Saturday night revellers spilled out of a pub, jostling each other, and Jo sidestepped quickly out of the way. After only a couple of nights in the city, she was longing for the relative tranquillity of her country lifestyle.

Crossing the street to where the deserted high-rise buildings lent a somewhat eerie feel to the atmosphere, Jo shivered slightly, taking a tighter grip on the strap of her little beaded shoulder-bag. It was then she became aware someone was following closely behind.

She quickened her steps, relieved to see the neon sign of the parking station up ahead. I don’t need this, she said silently, increasing her pace until she was almost running.

‘Hey!’ A deep voice rang out behind her. ‘It’s OK. I’m from Ben and Sophie’s wedding party—Brady McNeal.’

Spinning round Jo put her hand to her heart. ‘Oh—it is you.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’ Brady’s dark gaze homed in on her sudden pallor. ‘You OK?’

Jo managed a weak smile, feeling slightly foolish. ‘I will be now I know I’m not about to be mugged. We didn’t get to meet at the wedding,’ she added breathlessly, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Jo.’

‘Hi.’ Brady took her hand. ‘You’re the third doctor.’

Jo blinked. ‘Sorry?’

He grinned. ‘Sophie mentioned the gang of three. You, she and Fliss. You all trained together, didn’t you?’

‘Ah…yes. We’ve been friends for ages. And you’re a friend of Ben’s, I take it?’

He nodded. ‘We trained together, too.’

Jo gave a little laugh. ‘This is all a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?’

Brady’s smile was slow and a bit lopsided. ‘Perhaps we were destined to meet.’

Jo took a small step backwards, clasping the silk of her wrap more tightly across her chest. Was this a chat-up line? ‘Are you parked nearby?’ she countered awkwardly.

Well, he’d stuffed that up nicely. Brady had seen the sudden defensiveness hazing her green eyes. ‘I’m collecting my car from the parking station,’ he said briskly. ‘I imagine you’re on the same errand?’

‘Yes.’ Jo licked her lips, her heart thumping and pattering. They began walking again. ‘Are you just in town for the wedding?’ she asked conversationally.

‘My movements are a bit fluid at the moment.’

Well, that seemed to be that. Jo scrabbled in her purse for her parking receipt. ‘I’m on the third floor,’ she said, assuming they would say their goodbyes.

‘Me, too.’ Brady summoned the lift and waited for her to get in.

In the few seconds while the lift groaned its way upwards, the silence was awkward. Keeping her gaze carefully averted, Jo took a sneaky look at Brady McNeal as he hooked his suit jacket over his shoulder and slouched against the opposite wall of the lift. Nice eyes, she thought, and cheekbones to die for, and the snug fit of his suit trousers indicated a pair of long, muscular legs. She was still fanatisising when the lift jerked to a stop.

‘I’ll walk with you to your car.’ He took her elbow firmly as they vacated the lift. ‘These places are spooky at the best of times.’

And she was parked at the very end of a long, long row of vehicles. ‘Perhaps we should have both taken cabs in the first place,’ she suggested on a laugh made brittle by a flood of nerves when his guiding hand on her elbow slid down to entwine her fingers in his.

It was the lightest contact, casual and probably without meaning, yet Jo was suddenly, vividly aware of Brady’s masculinity. For an instant some maverick part of her longed for him to stop and whirl her into his arms. Hold her close. Kiss her…

‘Nah.’ Brady vetoed the idea of taxis with a huff of amusement. ‘I prefer to have my own wheels handy. You can never find a cab when you need one.’

‘And there always seem to be twenty people in line before you,’ she agreed, in a voice that was too high and too bright. ‘It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it?’ Determined to keep up the innocuous chatter, Jo changed conversation channels quickly.

‘Uh, yes, it was. Let’s hope they can stay the distance.’

‘Of course they will. They’re dotty about each other.’

The corners of Brady’s mouth tucked in on a small grimace. ‘There are valid reasons to go into marriage other than being dotty about each other, Jo.’

‘Reasons like money or position?’ Jo couldn’t keep the faint note of censure out of her voice.

Brady was taken aback. They weren’t his reasons at all. Would never be. His reasons were entirely personal. Way too personal to share with someone he’d just met. Even someone as delectable as the lady by his side.A slow, fence-mending smile edged his mouth. ‘No. Speaking personally, I’d never want to marry someone for those reasons.’

It was said with obvious sincerity and Jo felt her heart warm again. She managed a fleeting smile. ‘I wouldn’t either. Ah…’ She pointed ahead. ‘That’s my car at the end, the white hatchback.’

Brady looked at the gleaming paintwork and grinned. ‘Been through the carwash for the occasion, has it?’

‘Something like that. But by this time tomorrow it’s bound to be nice and dusty again,’ she predicted ruefully.

Brady’s dark brows peaked. ‘You don’t work here in the city, then?’

‘Haven’t for ages. I love my relatively quiet existence in a country practice. What about you?’

Brady released her hand abruptly as they came to a halt beside her car. ‘For the moment I’m staying with my parents at Bardon. Taking off to a new job shortly.’

‘Well, good luck, then.’ Hurriedly, Jo delved into her bag again for her keys. Unlocking the door of the car, she stood back for a second. ‘It was…nice meeting you, Brady,’ she said, a bit stiltedly.

‘You, too.’ He stretched in front of her to open the door of the car. His shoulder nudged her arm and the side of her breast before she could step out of the way.

‘Thanks.’ Jo’s thoughts were in wild disarray as she slid into the driver’s seat. Suddenly, everything that was male about Brady had assailed her. Everything from the clean crisp smell of apple-scented laundry softener on his shirt to the subtle male aftershave on his jaw as he’d swooped across her to open the door. ‘Take care, then,’ she said from behind the safe haven of her wound-down window.

‘And you.’ Brady sketched a casual salute, before turning away.

Jo watched as Brady loped back along the row of parked cars and then dodged through the line, obviously to collect his own vehicle.