Healing The Single Dad's Heart / Just Friends To Just Married?: Healing the Single Dad's Heart (The Good Luck Hospital) / Just Friends to Just Married? (The Good Luck Hospital)

‘Couldn’t be helped,’ she said as lightly as she could. ‘We can catch up some other time.’ She gave Joe a softer look. ‘Are your stories really that bad?’

He smiled. ‘Not bad. Just the same. I keep recycling, and Regan’s now getting old enough to realise that.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Whereas you swept in here with your dragons, warriors and magic turtles and blew me out of the water.’

She raised her eyebrows in challenge. ‘Time to up your game, then.’

He shook his head. ‘Oh, no way. I’m not getting into that. You have an unfair advantage.’

‘What’s that?’ The atmosphere between them was definitely mellowing. She was starting to calm down. Gain a bit of perspective. She’d had no reason to act so hurt about earlier. He’d clearly been sad, vulnerable and worried about his child. Over-reacting wouldn’t do either of them any good.

He waved his hand. ‘Untried and untested kids’ stories.’

‘Who says they’re untried and untested? I’ve worked the children’s clinic for a while now. It’s amazing what you can learn when you start telling a chid a story.’

His face changed, becoming more serious, and he nodded. ‘Yeah, sometimes they tell you a story back that makes you want to wrap your arms around them and hide them away.’

Their gazes clashed. Unspoken words. Joe had worked as a general practitioner in Scotland for years. Doubtless he’d encountered child protection issues just like she had here. It was a sobering thought, and she didn’t want to go there.

‘Have you and Regan video-called with your parents again?’

He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Every Tuesday and Friday. My parents are creatures of habit. If they don’t get their Regan fix they get very testy.’

‘They must miss him.’

He gave a little sigh. ‘Yeah, they do. And he misses them. I don’t think he quite understands the distance. He’s asked a few times if we can go and see them. He was used to seeing them every day, so it’s a big difference.’

‘You must miss them too.’

Joe paused for a second. ‘I do. They’ve been my biggest supporters for the last few years. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t been there when…’ His voice drifted off and she filled in the blanks by herself. She didn’t need him to say any more. He looked up. ‘They keep asking for you too. You’ll need to come and say hello again sometime.’

She smiled nervously. Something in the air felt quite odd between them. They were working together so well, and she enjoyed his company. Maybe that was it? She was enjoying his company a bit more than any other colleague’s. Maybe that was why she was being so defensive? Self-protect mode kicked in when anything felt remotely personal. She wanted to keep herself safe. And how did you keep your heart safe when there was already an adorable kid tugging away at it, and a guy with the sexiest accent in the world breathing the same air?

He reached over for the biscuit tin again, offering it to her. ‘Hey, you’ve met my mum and dad now. When do we get to meet yours? I’m sure Regan would love to say hello.’

The words came like a bolt out of the blue. It felt like a tidal wave sweeping the ground from beneath her feet. She wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t ready. She swallowed. ‘I…I…’ Panic flooded her. This wasn’t her. She was a professional. She’d had lots of questions or statements thrown at her over the years. None had made her as tongue-tied as this simple request.

She stood up quickly, scattering some of the papers that were on the table to the floor. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve just remembered there’s something I need to do.’ She crossed the room quickly and opened the door, her mouth achingly dry. ‘See you tomorrow.’

The thudding of her heart echoed in her ears as she hurried to her own front door. She’d seen the look on Joe’s face. He’d been totally confused by her actions. But the thought of taking him to meet her parents made her stomach churn in a way she couldn’t put into words.

She’d been down this road before. At medical school she’d known how to dress—designer classics bought from charity shops, clothes that had barely aged from season to season. She had been polite. She’d been able to talk about a vast range of international topics. She’d read widely. All things to hide her background from her fellow students. It had all gone so nicely. Until she’d started dating Reuben.

And he’d wanted to meet her parents. They hadn’t even got that far. As soon as he’d heard where she lived, she’d been dropped like a hot brick. The look of disdain and disappointment that he’d given her had seared into her heart, destroying a little part of her for ever. It seemed as if Joe, despite his humble nature, was from just as rich a family as Reuben had been.

The thought filled her with dread. They were just colleagues, that was all.

But how could Joe meet her parents without judging them? Wasn’t that what everyone from wealth and privilege did? She didn’t want that for her parents. She loved them dearly, and supported the fact they liked where they lived. But anyone walking into the neighbourhood could see the poverty there. It reached out and grabbed you from every faded awning and tumbled litter bin that was strewn across the streets. From the patched-up windows, along with the thin, angular frames of the people who lived there. Malnutrition was a big issue. Overcrowding another.

The area was home to her. Even if it wasn’t the nicest area. She could name most of the families in the same street as her mother and father. Some of these people had cleaned up her grazed knees or wiped her nose when she’d been a tiny kid. She’d been invited to sit at the table of bigger families with a large bowl of food shared out between however many faces were round the table at the time. Sometimes it meant only a few spoonfuls each, but the laughter and chatter around the table had meant that bellies had felt a little less empty.

The thought of walking Joe—the man who practically lived in a castle back in Scotland—down those streets filled her with dread.

Her parents were every bit as polite and hospitable as Joe’s were, and Joe didn’t seem like Reuben in any other way.

But she couldn’t take that chance.

She wouldn’t have her parents judged the way she had been.

Not ever.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_6767e46b-73a1-5775-89aa-df5d588bf5b5)

THEY SETTLED INTO an easy routine. Joe took Regan to the international nursery every morning and was back at the clinic to start at eight. Khiem and Hoa were back from their other hospital, and they all split the hospital and clinic duties between them. Joe occasionally helped out Hoa with the maternity side of things to try and keep his skills up. He found the friendly doctor a real pleasure to work with, particularly around maternal conditions and complications specific to Vietnam.

Khiem wore a different-coloured bow-tie every day along with a long-sleeved shirt. At times Joe wondered how he could stand the heat. After wearing shirts for the first two months, he’d eventually adopted the same clothing as Lien and started wearing the lightweight long-sleeved loose tunic tops that she preferred. The first time she’d spotted him wearing a yellow one she’d laughed and taken him to the shop that she favoured where he’d stocked up on white, beige and pale blue versions.

He’d just finished covering the ward round when Khiem called them all down to a staff meeting.

‘How was it?’ asked Lien, and he walked into the room and sat down next to her.

‘Not bad. Two chronic chests, one forty-five-year-old with a suspected stroke, and another young woman I think might have renal problems.’ He shook his head. ‘She hasn’t admitted it but I suspect she might have tried some of the locally brewed alcohol.’

Lien screwed up her face. ‘Oh, no.’

He smiled. He liked it when she did that. It was cute. Not a word he’d usually use to describe a colleague, but cute none the less. He still hadn’t figured out what had made her virtually bolt from his room the other night.

But it had also been the first time since he’d arrived in Vietnam that he’d been feeling a bit worried, a bit sentimental. He had no idea why. But crazy thoughts about genetics and biology had blossomed in his mind like a tiny flower, and it hadn’t helped that the flower had rapidly turned into an orchard with messy unknown things growing there. Then Lien had said a few things to reassure him he wasn’t going mad.

Oh.

That.

Had she thought…? Was that why she’d seemed so off later?

Was he really so turned off to the feelings of those around him? It was hardly an admirable trait for a doctor.

‘Joe?’

Lien was looking at him, and he realised he’d been part way through a conversation about a patient.

He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I’ve run some blood tests this morning, so when I get the results this afternoon I’ll go back and ask her some more questions. I think she was being careful what she told me this morning. That, and she was just feeling so bad. She was really dehydrated so I’ve got her up on an IV at the moment.’

Lien sighed. ‘Is she a tourist?’

He nodded. ‘She’s a student from Australia.’

Lien gave another sigh. ‘What do you suspect—rice wine? People just don’t realise how strong it is over here.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The normal rice wine is bad enough, at twenty-nine per cent, but if she’s drunk something unbranded…’ She shook her head. ‘The methanol levels can be so high they can be fatal.’

He nodded. ‘I’m watching her. She’s conscious. She does have abdominal pain and vomiting, but her co-ordination seems fine.’