A Mother's Secret

‘I’ll have a latte, thanks.’

She waited until he’d filled the two cups and they settled at a table, looking out across the hospital gardens, which were trimmed, neat with lots of colourful flower beds.

Gemma started cutting open her scone and spreading butter and jam. ‘What? Never seen a woman eat before, Logan? Stop gawping.’

He smiled as he started on his carrot cake. ‘You don’t look like the kind of girl that eats cakes.’

There it was again. His directness. Sneaking in when you least expected it. ‘Because I’m small?’

He sipped his cappuccino and wrinkled his nose. It was obvious he was trying to wind her up a little. Playing with her. Obviously hoping to soften her up for what was to come. ‘You’re not small, Gemma. You’re vertically challenged.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Yip.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘That’s my professional opinion.’ His long legs stretched out under the table, brushing next to her own. What was that? That little tremor of something she’d just felt? It had been so long since she’d had time to even have a man on her radar that she didn’t even know how these things worked these days.

His shirt was pale blue, almost like a thin denim, with a few wrinkles around the elbows and open at the collar, revealing some light curling hairs.

She was trying to place who he looked like. But the tiny blond tips of his hair were throwing her. That was it. He needed a captain’s uniform. He looked like that new young guy they’d drafted in for the latest Star Trek movie. If his hair was only the tiniest shade darker he could be a clone.

She took a bite of the scone. Just as she’d suspected. Delicious. She leaned back in her chair. ‘I think I’m just about to put on two stone.’

He smiled. ‘The food here is good. If you have any special requests or dietary issues, just let them know.’

She raised her eyebrow. ‘Dietary issues? Trying to tell me something, Logan?’

He shook his head swiftly. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Okay, then, out with it. You’ve obviously kept the bombshell for last. Hit me with it.’

His eyes drifted away from her and he fixated on something outside. ‘Yeah...about that.’

‘About what?’ Her voice was firm. How bad could this be?

He shifted in his seat. ‘You know how I told you that if A and E is quiet the doctor will cover the ward patients too?’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’ She was feeling very wary of him now.

‘Well, it kind of works both ways.’

She felt the hairs standing up at the back of her neck. ‘What do you mean?’

He stared at her. With those big blue eyes that could be very distracting if you let them.

‘I mean that if the A and E doc gets snowed under, then they usually call us out for some assistance.’ He was visibly cringing as he said the words. Obviously waiting for the fallout.

She ran her tongue along her dry lips. He was worried. And a tiny part of that amused her.

She’d only agreed to help out for six weeks. She would only have a few on-calls. How bad could this be? Maybe she should make him sweat a little. After all, he had been quite presumptuous so far.

She picked up her scone and regarded him carefully. ‘Think carefully before you answer the next question, Logan. I can tell you right now that if you spoil my scone, this could all end in tears.’ She took a little bite. Was he holding his breath? ‘Exactly how many times does the A and E doc call you out?’

Logan shifted again. ‘Well, in the winter, hardly ever. Maybe once every six weeks.’

She knew exactly where this was going. ‘And in the summer?’

He gave a little frown and a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Probably...most nights?’

‘What?’ Her voice had just gone up about three octaves. He had to be joking. ‘Every night?’

His head was giving little nods. No wonder he’d worried about telling her. ‘More or less.’

She put her scone back down on her plate, her appetite instantly forgotten. This was going to be far more complicated than she could possibly have expected.

Logan held up his hands. ‘Look, Gemma. I’m sorry. I hadn’t really taken Isla into the equation. I’m so used to being on my own I didn’t even consider the impact it would have on her. I mean, you are a single parent, aren’t you? You don’t have another half that’s going to appear in the next few weeks?’

There it was again. His presumptions. And was she mistaken or did he sound vaguely happy—as well as apologetic—about the situation?

And why did she care? This guy, with his rolled-up sleeves revealing his tanned arms, was giving her constant distractions.

Like that one. Since when did she notice a man’s tanned arms? Or the blond tips in his hair? Or the fact he might resemble a movie star?

She’d been so focused for the last five years. Every single bit of her pent-up energy had been invested in Isla. In the fight to keep her, and all the hard work that went along with being a single parent, working full-time.

She hadn’t even had time to look in the mirror, let alone look around her and notice any men.

Maybe this was just a reaction to Isla’s out-of-the-blue drawing with the feature boyfriend.

Her stomach gave the strangest flutter. Or maybe this was just a reaction to the big blue eyes, surrounded by little weathered lines, currently staring at her across the table.

She took a deep breath. Were his thoughts really presumptions? He’d helped her unpack. He must have noticed the distinct lack of manly goods about the place.

She nodded her head. She was used to this. She was used to the single-parent question. She’d been fielding it for the last five years. ‘Yes, I’m a single parent, Logan. I hadn’t really expected to be called out at night on a frequent basis. That could cause me a number of problems.’ She was trying not to notice the fact he’d just told her he only had himself to think about.

She was trying to ignore the tiny flutter she’d felt when he’d revealed the possibility he might be unattached. She was trying not to notice the little flicker in her stomach that Logan wasn’t married with a whole family of his own. What on earth was wrong with her?

He lifted his hands. ‘Look, I’m sorry. But I’m desperate. I really need someone at the surgery right now. How about I cover some of your on-calls?’

She bit her lip. ‘That’s hardly fair, is it?’ She couldn’t figure out the wave of strange sensations crowding around her brain. Then something scrambled its way to the front and a smile danced across her face. ‘Don’t you have someone to go home to?’

There. She’d said it.

The quickest way to sort out the weird range of thoughts she was having. He may not wear a wedding ring but he was sure to have another half tucked away somewhere on the island.

Another woman. Simple. The easiest way to dismiss this man.

He smiled and leaned across the table towards her, the hairs on his tanned arm coming into contact with her pale, bare arm. She really needed to get a little sun.

‘You mean, apart from my mother?’ He was teasing her. She could tell by the sexy glint in his eye that he knew exactly why she’d asked the question.