The Nurse's Twin Surprise

She huffed the air out of her lungs. Nathan wasn’t wooing her and, by the expressions that crossed his face at times, had no intention of doing so. Fine. With a hideous marriage behind her, the wedding ring long gone in the bin, as of this week she was single and wanting to trust and love again, but she was very, very cautious.

Going out to breakfast had been the best thing to happen to her in a long while. She worked with a great bunch, and from now on she’d attend every get-together anyone proposed. She’d also get involved with more than the charity shop. Fake it till she made it. This latest and final version of herself would not be the socialite of the past, or the cowering abused woman. Married two years, separated for two, now alone. If nothing else, she’d become more caring and understanding of other people. Mrs Molly Bollard was gone for ever.

In the kitchenette she filled the kettle for a cup of tea. Sleep would be elusive while her mind was going over the morning. Pride lifted her chest. She’d managed to fit in with her workmates to the point she’d relaxed enough to forget everything that had brought her to that point. So much so, she’d even managed to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Now, there was a step in the right direction, and she mustn’t stop at that. There was a city out there to get to know, and if she was careful not to keep her distrust to the fore, she didn’t have to carry on being alone, could make friends in all facets of her life.

Did Nathan go to the meals every time the staff got together? She chuckled. He wouldn’t do the shopping expeditions. She mightn’t be fully ready for a partner or even a lover, but spending time over a meal with a man who laughed, grumped, looked out for others, could not be time wasted.

The doorbell chimed. Molly spun around. No one visited her. Bang went her heart. Crunch went her stomach.

Knock, knock. ‘Molly, it’s Nathan. I’ve got your phone.’

Relief prodded her towards the door. How had he managed to get inside and up to her floor without knowing the apartment number? Peering through the peephole, she got a grainy view of the man who’d driven her home.

‘Molly?’ That familiar irritation was back.

She opened the door. ‘Sorry to be a pain. It must’ve fallen out of my bag with my hairbrush.’

Nathan was watching her with that intensity that was more familiar than his smiles. ‘You had a call. That’s how I found it.’

‘A call?’ she asked. ‘Who from?’

He shrugged. ‘I didn’t look. Figured you’d be cross if I did.’

‘You bet,’ Molly admitted sheepishly as she checked out the caller ID. An unknown number. Her smile snapped off.

‘Problem?’

‘What?’ She shook her head and glanced up at Nathan to soak up the warmth in his gaze. ‘No. Wrong number probably.’ As far as she knew, Paul only had access to the prison phone and that number was definitely in her contacts file so she could ignore it if he tried to get in touch. Anyway, he’d stopped calling her after his guilty verdict. Though who knew what receiving the divorce notice might’ve done to his narcissistic brain. He hated losing control over her more than anything.

The kettle whistled. Molly glanced toward the kitchenette. ‘Thanks for this.’

Nathan stepped through the door. ‘You into minimalist?’

Closing her eyes, she counted to four. Nathan should have left, not come inside. Yet it didn’t feel wrong. More like it was okay for this man to be inside her home; as if she wanted him here. Which was so far out of left field she had to stop and look at him again. All she saw was the good-looking man who’d brought her home gazing around her apartment as if it was a normal thing to do. It probably was, for most people. That had to be in his favour. She was not thinking about the pool of heat in her stomach. Not, not, not. ‘I’m making tea. Do you want one?’ Ah, okay, maybe that heat was getting the upper hand.

He hesitated, his gaze still cruising her living room.

He was going to say no. She got in first. ‘It’s okay. You’ve got things to do before picking up Cole.’ She wanted to feel relieved, but it was disappointment settling over her.

‘Thought you’d never ask.’ His gaze had landed back on her. His hands were in his pockets, his stance relaxed, yet there was something uncertain about him, like he didn’t know if he was welcome. Nothing to make her afraid, more the opposite. If such a strong, confident man could feel unsure then he was more real, human—flawed in a good way. ‘White with one.’

Her disappointment was gone in a flash. Replaced by a sudden longing for another chance at love. Truly? Yes, truly. Still had to go slowly, though. Turning her back on him before she fell completely under his spell and screwed up big-time, she said, ‘Would you mind shutting the door? I don’t like leaving it open. Never know who might wander in.’

‘No problem.’ A moment later, ‘In case you’re wondering, it was the old lady three doors down who told me which door to knock on after I described you.’

‘I guess that goes with the territory.’ She’d have to talk to Mrs Porter about telling strangers which apartment was hers. Except Nathan stood in the middle of her tiny one-bed home, waiting for a mug of tea. Not a stranger. ‘Take a pew.’ She nodded at the pair of wooden chairs at her tiny, gleaming wooden dining table. Her mouth dried as he sat and stretched those endless legs half across the kitchenette.

‘Not a lot of space for a party, is there?’ He smiled.

She could get to like those smiles far too much. They warmed her in places that had been cold for a long time, places she’d held in lockdown for fear of making another hideous mistake. Reaching for the two mugs on the tiny shelf above the bench, she answered, ‘As partying wasn’t on my agenda when I needed a roof over my head, I’m not complaining. This suits me fine in that respect.’