The One Man to Heal Her

Yet asking him in seemed … not dangerous—it couldn’t possibly be dangerous as this was Will …

‘He must be missing Dad,’ she said, mainly to avoid a decision. Buddy had walked up Will’s arm and was perched on his shoulder, nibbling gently at his earlobe. ‘He’s usually very shy with strangers.’

Two o’clock in the morning—that’s when Will had reached the decision to collect Alex’s luggage from the hospital and see what he could do as far as the paperwork was concerned. If he went early, he’d decided, she would probably still be asleep and he could leave the lot in the front porch.

That way he’d avoid seeing Alex, and as images of her and replays of their evening had already kept him awake for hours, he’d come to the realisation that the less he saw of her the better.

At least until he’d sorted out a few things in his mind and body. His body’s reaction to her was understandable enough, she was a beautiful woman, but the voice in his head that kept whispering ‘hurt’ and ‘vulnerable’ and other warning words was a different matter.

He’d already worked out, at least a year ago, that when he did find a mother for Charlotte, it would be a different kind of marriage. Two mature people finding companionship and sexual satisfaction and, yes, love of a kind, but not love love.

Love love hurt too much when you lost it—devastated and destroyed you. There was no way he could go through that again—and Alex, with the pain of her past, deserved better than some lukewarm version of the real thing.

So now he was standing at her front door, a galah on his head, feeling like an absolute galoot.

‘Thank you so much,’ Alex said, and he felt a stab of disappointment, sure he was about to be dismissed. Not that he’d expected to be invited in—hadn’t expected her to be up—but, seeing her in too-small, pink, floral pyjamas, he really didn’t want to go.

‘Have you had breakfast?’ she asked.

Hope rose again.

‘No, Charlotte’s stayed over with Mum because I’m on call this weekend so I thought I’d drop this stuff off early so you’d have it when you woke up. Thought it would save you dashing over to the hospital to get some clothes to wear.’

She smiled and the day seemed brighter, and while his head might be calling him all kinds of a fool, his heart swelled just a little in his chest and beat a little faster.

Attraction, that’s all it was—physical attraction after too long a celibacy. But knowing that didn’t stop him carrying her suitcases inside, the bird now flying in front of him as if to show him the way.

Alex led the way up to her bedroom, then, aware of how girlish it still looked—her bedroom at sixteen—she hesitated.

‘Just leave them here in the hall, I’ll sort them out from there. Dad left a note about food in the fridge and I was about to cook a hearty breakfast before facing whatever lay ahead.’

She turned towards him.

‘Now it seems you’ve handled most of what lay immediately ahead, so the least I can do is feed you.’

She looked worried, puzzled, uncertain—exactly the way Will felt—but she recovered first, offering a rueful smile as she said, ‘It’s weird, isn’t it, meeting again like this?’

Weird didn’t begin to sum it up! Although why, he couldn’t fathom …

‘Go and sit on the deck,’ she told him when they reached the kitchen, and he saw the majestic sweep of the river through the windows. ‘Bacon and eggs okay? And I’ve coffee made if you’d like a cup while you wait.’

To Alex’s relief, Will accepted a cup of coffee and headed out onto the deck, lessening, though not by much, the tension in her nerves. She was reasonably certain the attraction she was feeling towards him was nothing more than his familiarity. Coming home had been like landing in another life, and he was a familiar figure to cling to while she found her way around.

Not that she could cling to Will.

It had been more than three years since his wife had died and even though he’d said he’d got out of the dating habit, there had to have been other women in his life—or another special woman.

And, anyway, it felt wrong, this attraction to him. If he was looking for a woman he’d be thinking in terms of a mother for Charlotte—someone stable and committed to both him and his daughter.

And given the mess she’d made of relationships in the past, she’d hardly qualify for either role.

The bacon was sizzling and she pushed it to one side of the pan and added eggs.

‘How do you like your eggs?’ she called through the window.

‘Sunny side up,’ he replied, and the fact that she liked hers that way as well did not mean one damn thing!

She made toast, set it, butter, salt and pepper, honey and marmalade on a tray with their cutlery and carried the lot out to the table, then hurried back in for the plates before Will could offer to help her.

Distance, that’s all she needed. A bit of distance between them and all the unwanted and inexplicable physical reactions in her body would eventually disappear.

Will watched the river come to life, fishing boats motoring towards the mouth, kayakers paddling furiously past, one lone windsurfer trying desperately to stay upright in the lightest of breezes.

He’d have breakfast then leave and, really, was there any reason he’d have to see Alex again?

No reason at all, and it was definitely best that he didn’t—

Though why?

He tried to work out why the instant attraction he’d felt towards her seemed so wrong. Almost dangerous.

How could it be?

Because instant attraction didn’t work?

Because she’d admitted being bad at relationships and he didn’t want to upset Charlotte by bringing a woman who might not stick with them into her life?

Or because such a strong attraction could lead to love?

Wasn’t that the crux of it?

Seventeen years ago she’d been, to him, the kid who’d shifted in next door. A kid in all kinds of pain—that had been obvious.

He realised, as the word ‘kid’ came into his thoughts again, that that was how he’d always seen her. The kid who’d minded the twins, a quiet shadow in the house next door.

Although he’d realised just how much inner strength she’d had when her rape case had come to court, one long year after the complaint. The Armitages—either Dave or Isobel—had always gone with her when she’d had to appear right up until the day of the judgment. Dave had been down south at a conference and Isobel had asked Will to accompany her and Alex, somehow guessing the verdict wasn’t going to be the one they wanted.

He’d been there on one side of her, Isobel on the other, and her hand had gripped his as the jury pronounced the rapist not guilty.

He’d been so proud to have known her as she’d stood up, head high, fixed Mr Spencer with a withering look and marched out of the court.

‘At least,’ she’d said to her two supporters, ‘other people will be suspicious of him now and he’ll be too scared to touch another child.’

He glanced up as the woman who’d been the ‘kid next door’ slid a tray onto the table. ‘I’d forgotten just how wonderful it was to sit out here.’

‘It’s fantastic,’ he agreed, taking in the too-small floral pyjamas again and wondering if it was possible to keep thinking of her in that ‘kid next door’ way.

She passed him his plate, refilled his coffee cup, and settled beside him so they could both look out at the river.