‘She’s the reason he’s not stopping as soon as he’d like. I think she’s afraid he’ll take over her orchard and leave her with little to do.’
‘Hardly surprising. It’s been her baby for years.’
Again Sash went all quiet on him. This time the silence hung heavily between them as she concentrated on negotiating the final hairpin bend, her eyes focused straight ahead, her lips pressed hard together. He sensed the tension in her thighs, arms and the rest of her compact body. Because of the road conditions? Or the fact he’d used the baby word?
He broke the silence. ‘When I went for a walk yesterday I noticed the orchard’s been expanded. There’s a lot of work there for anyone to cope with.’ If Ian was sixty-three then his wife had to be a similar age. Time to relax a bit, surely?
It took a few minutes but finally she answered so quietly he had to strain to hear her. ‘Mum tries, and I help when I can.’
‘Is that wise in your condition? Orchard work’s quite heavy.’ Seemed his runaway tongue had no problem with talking. Then his head jerked forward as the car skated to an abrupt halt.
‘By the time you’ve walked home you might’ve learned to keep your unwanted opinions to yourself.’ Sasha stared out the windscreen, not even dignifying him with a glare.
‘I’m sorry. Again.’ He waited. He had no intention of getting out into the night and waiting for the unlikely event of another vehicle coming along.
Might try and learn to keep your trap shut while you’re waiting. Because up until now it’s done nothing but get you further than ever offside with Sasha. If that was possible.
Something akin to fear slithered under his skin. What if he never got to laugh with Sasha again? Never saw her eyes light up into that brilliant summer green that hit him right in the heart? Could he still go and knock on her door and say hi?
She wouldn’t need that from him. Those bases would be covered with the father of her baby. Nausea rolled up Grady’s throat. He hadn’t been able to do any of those things for years. Long, lonely years when he’d looked for her in every woman he dated.
Suddenly he really, truly, understood how coming back to Golden Bay had little to do with working on his house. He could’ve paid a carpenter to do that. No, this mad idea had been all about Sasha and their past.
But it had to be friendship he was looking for.
Nope. Not at all. But it was all he’d get.
But first he needed a ride home.
He did the one thing he was very good at, had been doing for years. He waited.
CHAPTER THREE
SASHA SNAPPED THE shower off after a quick soap and sluice job and snatched at her towel. She’d slept in. She’d be late for work. The one thing she’d do anything to avoid. And on a Monday morning it’d be bedlam at the medical centre. Hopefully, Mike and Roz would give her some slack because she’d been helping Sam and Lucy. There’d be no problem with Rory. He was more laid back than his medical partners.
Why hadn’t she heard her alarm? Hard to believe she’d fallen asleep the moment her head had touched the pillow, that there hadn’t been hours of tossing and turning while Grady ran amok in her skull.
But the moment her eyes had popped open this morning he’d been there. That wary, lopsided smile clawing at her heartstrings. His gravelly voice thrilling her deep, deep inside, stirring hormones into a dance. The lid had lifted off that memory box again.
‘Grady O’Neil, I’ve missed you so much.’ Nothing or nobody in the intervening years had filled the hole he’d torn out of her heart. Out of her soul. There’d been men, for sure, but none had touched her as deeply as Grady. Not even greaseball had hurt her as badly. Could be she was getting used to being tossed aside by the men she’d cared about. Thank goodness. She wouldn’t have survived a repeat of the kind of devastation Grady had caused, leaving her hollowed out.
Kick, kick.
Until the advent of her baby. Flipper would go a long way to making her feel complete again. Flipper would soak up all the love she had to give. ‘My baby girl.’
Swiping the condensation off the mirror, Sasha studied her belly. So round, smooth, life-giving. Her fingers splayed across the taut skin and she turned sideways for a different view. ‘Oh, wow.’ Tears misted her eyes, clogged her throat. ‘You’re beautiful already.’
She never tired of this view. Pregnancy had turned out to be amazing. Hard to believe that a wee baby girl was growing in there, getting ready for the big, wide world. What colour were her eyes? Her hair? ‘My baby. My love.’ Sniff. ‘I promise you, Flipper, I’m going to be the best darned mother you’d ever wish for.’ Sniff. ‘I love you so much already.’ Would love cover all her failings? Help her make wise decisions regarding just about everything? Would her love make up for the lack of a father?
Tossing the towel in the general direction of the drying rail, Sasha fumbled for a tissue and blew hard.
No, Grady, the job’s not up for grabs. As much as my baby needs a dad, I’m not letting you in. It’s bad enough you shoved my love back in my face, and on a bad day I might even take another chance on you, admit extenuating circumstances, but what if you left again? That could hurt Flipper, which is non-negotiable. So, byebye, Grady.
But, for the record, her real father’s out of the picture, too. He made it clearer than a fine winter’s day that he wants absolutely nothing to do with this child. As far as I’m concerned, he’s had his chance.
Kick.
‘Hey, baby girl. You should be sleeping in after your late night.’ Dropping the soggy tissue in the waste basket, Sasha picked up her knickers and stepped into them. Reached for her bra, which got tighter by the day. ‘You know we’re running late, Flipper? The centre will be buzzing with people who’ve knocked themselves about over the weekend, playing rugby or netball, plus the usual line-up of colds and flu.’ The zip on her pregnancy trousers caught. ‘Flipper, you’re putting on weight.’
As she shoved her arms into her blouse there was a loud pounding on her front door. ‘Who the heck?’ Just what she needed, a visitor when she should already be on the road. Then she relaxed. It’d be Jessica. There’d been a message on the answering-machine when she’d got in to call her friend urgently, no matter what the time of day or night. Fairly certain Jessica would be phoning to warn her about Grady’s reappearance, she’d opted to wait until she saw her at work rather than talk for what had been left of the night about how to deal with him.
Heading for the front of her cottage, she left buttoning her blouse and tugged on a woollen cardigan. She swung the door wide, shivering in the cold blast that immediately whacked her. ‘Hey, you can save your breath. I already…’ Her voice petered out as her eyes encountered the one person she’d never expected to see at this moment.
‘You already what?’ Grady asked in such a normal tone, like he always dropped by her place, that the temperature of her blood went from normal to boiling in a flash.
Remain calm. Breathe deep. ‘What are you doing here?’
Grady’s eyes widened but otherwise he remained unperturbed. ‘I need a ride to the medical centre. My car’s at Mike’s.’ His hand slid through that wonderful, nearly shoulder-length black hair that she refused to remember running her fingers through. ‘I presume you’re heading that way shortly.’
The heat in her veins evaporated immediately. A ride to the centre? In her car? He was doing something so mundane as asking a neighbour for a lift and yet she wanted to yell no at him. Yearned to close her door in his beautiful face and lean back on it, while pretending that the guy on the other side meant no more to her than yesterday’s lunch. So much for not letting Grady get to her.
Be calm, act rationally. Do the right, the sensible thing. ‘No problem. Give me a minute. I’ll grab my jacket and bag.’ She didn’t try to sound chirpy. Too tired for that. And wired. Grady mightn’t have kept her awake last night but she hadn’t forgotten for an instant that she’d seen him, that he was back, that she’d missed him more than she’d ever
guessed. That her body went a little crazy whenever he was near. Shouldn’t pregnancy dull the sex buzz?
A buzz he didn’t seem to be feeling as he said, ‘Thanks. I’m covering for Mike this morning while he catches up on much-needed sleep. They didn’t get back from Nelson until about five.’
The vague hope that she could drive fast, dump Grady at Mike’s and get on with her day vanished. They’d be in the same building most of the morning until she headed off on her rounds. She’d be unable to avoid him. Even if she didn’t see him she’d hear his deep voice when he talked with patients as he led them to his consulting room or when he took a coffee break in the kitchen. So? What happened to doing friendly? Grady seemed to be managing that. Surely she could? Or didn’t he feel anything about the past? Had he got over it so well that he really thought friendship was possible?
Get real. Grady told you he didn’t love you any more. What was there to get over?