Spinning on her heel, she left him on the doorstep and headed for the kitchen to collect her gear and something to have for breakfast once she got to work.
‘Sash,’ he called after her.
Spinning back, she glared at him, holding in the pain that using the diminutive form of her name caused. Today she would not lower herself to plead that he refrain from using it. Instead, she slapped a hand on her hip and, barely resisting tapping her foot, waited.
‘Sorry. Sasha.’ His chest lifted, fell back into place under that navy jersey that fitted him like a second skin, accentuating all the details of his chest she’d prefer to forget. The tip of his tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth. ‘You might want to take a few more minutes and finish getting dressed.’
What? She glanced downwards. Great. Her blouse was only half-buttoned, exposing her new, getting-bigger-by-the-day cleavage. Her feet were bare. Heck, she hadn’t put any make-up on yet or done her hair. ‘Make that ten minutes.’
*
Grady watched as Sash did that spin-on-her-heel thing again. Her back was straighter than straight, her long, mussed hair bouncing as she charged away. And his belly squeezed hard on the boiled egg he’d eaten half an hour ago. Did those golden locks still feel like silk? Did she still enjoy having them hand-combed by someone else?
The wind roared across the lawn, pelted his back with cold and knocked the door against the wall. He stepped inside and closed winter out. Now what? Did he wander through the house like he was welcome? Or wait here just inside the door like a nervous kid outside the headmaster’s office? Like he’d ever done that.
He strode towards the door opposite where Sash had disappeared, hopeful of finding the kitchen. What if her partner was there? Then he’d front up, introduce himself and explain why he was here. He would not say he’d deliberately come by to meet him, to find out who he was and see if they already knew each other.
That baby bump was still there, hadn’t disappeared overnight. Hadn’t been a figment of his overactive imagination. Breakfast rolled over. Regurgitated egg tasted disgusting. Hadn’t tasted that flash first time round, come to think of it. He’d eaten on autopilot, knowing he’d regret it later if he didn’t have breakfast but not overly interested in what he ate. His head space had been filled with images from last night of Sash. Angry, cautious, smiling—not at him—shocked, and very, very protective of her unborn child.
The cupboard that was obviously the kitchen was empty. No partner here. Grady didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. The moment of reckoning had only been delayed.
‘Right, let’s go.’ Sasha’s hand appeared in the periphery of his vision as she snatched up keys lying on the bench.
‘Sasha.’ Grady knew he should stop right there but the words kept on coming. ‘Do you live here alone?’
‘Yes,’ she called over her shoulder, as she strode away to the front door. Her hand on the door handle tightened then she whipped around to face him, her annoyed-looking eyes locking with his. ‘Yes,’ she repeated more emphatically. And then she waited, apparently understanding what he wanted to know and not making it easy for him.
‘The baby’s father doesn’t live with you?’ What part of living alone didn’t you get?
‘Definitely not,’ she snapped, then blinked and turned away, tugging the door open, but not before he saw anger flicker across her face, widening her eyes.
Not sure how he should be feeling right now, he followed her outside. If there wasn’t a father in the picture then maybe he could spend some time getting alongside her and see where that led. Probably fooling himself, setting himself up for heartbreak.
What about that baby? Do you want to be a part of its life? Because if you’re wanting Sash back then she comes with extras.
Something to think about. Though his need to get alongside Sash might override any concerns about the child. At the moment, anyway.
Watching her closely as those keys she’d snatched up flew from one ring-laden hand to the other and back while she waited for him to come outside, he had to resist the urge to wrap her up in a big hug. Nothing sexual. A completely caring and friendly embrace. A hug to take away some of that despair she was valiantly trying to hide behind anger.
The front door closed with a bang. Then the locks on that canary-yellow car popped. Sash’s feet slapped hard on the pavement as she closed the gap to her vehicle then swung back to face him. She’d applied make-up in those few minutes she’d left him standing around, yet her face appeared ghostly pale. But her spine had clicked dead straight again.
‘I am going to be a solo mother.’ Fierce words spoken in her don’t-screw-with-me attitude. So Sash. Watch out anyone who gave her a hard time over that. And there’d be plenty. Small communities might turn out to support anyone who needed them but there was always the gossip doing the rounds, too. Which was why her brother had left so long ago.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ And he was. He mightn’t like another man in her life but he was big enough to acknowledge single parenthood would be no easy feat and he really didn’t want Sasha having to face it alone.
‘Don’t be. It’s for the best.’ She slid into the car and shoved the key into the ignition. ‘Coming?’
*
Why did I just tell Grady that? It’s absolutely none of his business. At the gate Sasha lifted her foot off the brake too quickly and the vehicle jerked forward. It’s not a secret. Probably best to put it out there so he’s not badgering me with more questions.
When she’d spilled the truth there’d been something in Grady’s eyes that had curled her toes with warmth, as though he was on her side. Which had to be the dumbest thought she’d had in a long time. Why would he be? And why had the idea of Grady being there for her in any way, shape or form made her feel a smidgeon better than she had five minutes ago?
She was doing this alone. Jessica, as friend and midwife, would see her through the pregnancy and birth, but the hard yards were all down to her. Her parents would always stand by her, but in the end the baby was her responsibility. Hope I know what I’m doing, Flipper. Her hand dropped to her extended belly and did a quick lap over the bump.
Unable to stop herself, she glanced sideways, met Grady’s steady gaze, saw wonder all mixed up with yearning gleaming out at her. Oh—my—goodness. A sensation in her chest of something like a mouse on a treadmill brought tears bursting into her eyes. Her neck clicked as she flicked her head forward, taking her eyes away from that unrealistic sight.
If only that picture was for real, like they were a happy couple expecting their first child. It should be true, would’ve been if he hadn’t dumped her. Grady would make an awesome dad. But not for her little girl. Flipper was not going to grow up believing Grady would always be there for her only to discover he left when she wasn’t looking.
Back up. Grady had put his mother and sisters before her, before them. His family had desperately needed his undivided attention and support at the time. He’d also put training to become a doctor on hold. It hadn’t only been about not wantin
g her. With Mum’s illness beginning to make an impact on her family’s lives she was beginning to understand what he’d been facing. But he should’ve talked to her, told her everything. Shared his problems.
Toot, toot. A car pulled up beside her vehicle, stopping in the middle of the road. Sasha looked out. Mum’s head was poking out of the driver’s window, surprise widening her eyes as she peered past her. Oh, great. Now for the forty questions.
Best cut her off at the pass. ‘Hey, Mum, how’s things? I’ll have to find someone else to take the lemons over the hill tonight. Lucy and Sam had an accident last night and are in hospital so I’m not sure what’s happening with their freight run.’ Shut up. You’re babbling. Anyway, Mum hadn’t heard a word, she was too busy sussing out the man sitting beside her.
‘Grady, it’s good to see you. I heard you were at the house, and hoped to catch up with you in the next day or two to ask you over for a meal. Ian will be back tonight. Sasha’s joining us for dinner tomorrow so how about you come along?’ Now who was babbling? At least Mum hadn’t said it would be just like old times. Yet. ‘It would be—’
Sasha held her breath.
Mum continued, ‘Lovely to catch up with what you’ve been up to since we last saw you.’
Thanks for the loyalty, Mum. Where was the ‘Who the heck do you think you are, coming back here when Sasha’s finally moved back home?’
Grady leaned forward, shot a quick look at Sasha that told her exactly what he was going to say. ‘Hello, Virginia. I’d love to catch up with you and Ian. I’ll bring a bottle of wine.’
‘Lovely.’ Mum beamed. Mothers had no right to invite ex-boyfriends to dinner. They should know better. But, then, Mum hadn’t really seen the devastation Grady’s defection had wrought on her, hadn’t known that she’d gone from wild to wilder for twelve months. Hadn’t known how many pieces her heart had broken into and how, when it had come to putting it back together, it had been like a jigsaw with bits missing.