Stepping closer, he continued. ‘Maybe but when I think of Holly I always end up thinking about you instead. And, yes, I do question what you expect of me, and what you’ll give back in return.’
Which was why he wanted more time. The hope disappeared. She couldn’t blame him for that. It was a big ask to be accepted so easily. ‘Guess you’ll have to wait and see.’ She lifted her girl into her arms. ‘But first...’ Deep breath. ‘Holly, this is Daddy. Say, “Hello, Daddy.”’
Holly grinned and stared at him. ‘Hello, No.’
Noah laughed, not appearing at all disappointed. ‘Does this mean “No” is going to be your favourite word, my girl, instead of yes? If so, we’re in for some arguments.’
‘No. No.’ Holly banged her hand on Stacey’s arms, and grinned some more.
* * *
The Wainwright house was a three-storey, semi-detached in neat condition with a tidy front lawn. Despite Holly having been in hospital, the gate onto the road was firmly shut. Noah shuddered at the thought of her running out and being hit by the kid on a skateboard. Turning back to his vehicle, he opened the rear door, unclipped Holly from her seat and handed her to Stacey. ‘I’ll grab the bag.’
Stacey handed Holly back. ‘You carry her. I’ll get that.’
His heart softened as he reached for his daughter. It was hard to get enough of her now he’d accepted parenthood. ‘Thanks.’ He leaned over and kissed Stacey’s cheek, tried to ignore the jolt of longing that caught him. Backing off, he waited to follow her to the house.
She’d looked stunned then pleased at the kiss. Damn, he should’ve kept his emotions to himself. Now she’d be thinking he was ready for more with her. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy making love again. His body was wired for hers, rarely quietened when around her. But to take Anastasia to bed now would be wrong, and unkind. It would suggest nothing had changed, that they were still seeing each other as two people without a child between them, and before both of them had worked out what they wanted for the future. He was presuming Stacey hadn’t too many expectations of him and her position in his life.
The front door opened before they reached the steps. ‘Holly, sweetheart, you’re home. She’s looking better, Stacey.’ Ian Wainwright stood there, looking relaxed and pleased to see them all. Even him. ‘Hello, Noah.’
Noah stuck his hand out. ‘Ian, I hope I’m not inconveniencing you.’
‘Of course not. You’re welcome to visit anytime.’ He wasn’t saying who he should be visiting. Holly or Stacey? ‘Come in out of the cold.’ His welcome was genuine, like his daughter.
It was like stepping into the past. Laughter came from another room, music was playing in the background, the smell of dinner cooking reached his nostrils and warmed him. Noah closed his eyes and breathed deeply, drew up memories of when he’d been a little boy. ‘Wonderful.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Caution laced Stacey’s question.
‘You’re lucky.’
‘I know, though sometimes I take it all for granted.’
Judy appeared in the kitchen doorway and crossed to lift her granddaughter out of his arms. ‘Hello, sweetheart. Grandma’s happy to see you.’ Kiss, kiss, kiss on Holly’s cheeks. Then she smiled at Noah. ‘You’ll stay for dinner.’
Did he have a choice? He chuckled. ‘I’d love to.’
‘I’ll heat up some baked beans for Holly and you can sit with her while she eats.’ Stacey grinned. Which was the first easy grin he’d had from her in days.
It warmed his heart and relaxed some of the tension that had built up on the short drive from the hospital. ‘Is my shirt going to survive?’
Stacey’s spread hand flipped back and forth. ‘Maybe.’
Only one red splotch marred the front of his white shirt by the time Holly decided she’d had enough and shoved the plate aside. ‘Read me a story, No.’
‘What’s the magic word?’ her mother asked from the kitchen, where she was helping her mother.
‘Please, No.’
‘Please, Daddy.’ Stacey had come to stand in the doorway. ‘Noah is your daddy.’
‘No Daddy?’ Those beautiful eyes were huge in the tiny face.
‘Yes, Daddy,’ he growled around a blockage in his throat.
‘No, Daddy.’ The little minx giggled.
Reaching for her, Noah wrapped his daughter in his arms and kissed the top of her head. His heart was pounding, his throat still blocked, and when he glanced across to Stacey she was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Anastasia was full of love for so many people. She was happy for him to be a part of Holly’s life, had offered to have a DNA test for his peace of mind.
In his arms, Holly began wriggling to get down. ‘Careful or you’ll hurt your arm,’ he cautioned in a croaky voice. Setting her carefully on her feet, he watched her dash across to Granddad and scramble up onto his knees.
‘It’s bedtime, missy,’ Ian said as he hugged her.
‘No.’
No as in Noah, or, no, I don’t want to go to bed?
Noah grinned. This was family, right here in this old-fashioned sweet house that was so different from the modern sterile place he lived in. This was what he remembered from his childhood—not the house and its fixtures but the genuine love and kindness, the acceptance of each other. It was perfect. Happiness crept under his ribs. Unbelievable. Everything he wanted was right here. If he dared take a chance.
Another glance at Stacey had his heart dancing again, this time for her. And them. Could it be as easy as saying, ‘Come with me and make magic, bring up our daughter together and be happy?’ Could he trust himself to make that decision?
* * *
‘Stacey, it’s Noah. You wanted me?’ Wednesday and she was back at work. They might get to steal a few minutes together throughout the day. According to the nurses, she’d been trying to get hold of him for the last hour while he’d been in surgery.
‘Jonathon Black’s got another problem, more pain in the abdomen. It’s severe. The registrar’s seen him and thinks you should take a look.’
‘Can you put him on?’ He’d get the details and suggest what would be necessary until he finished in Theatre.
Then he recalled what she’d said the first time she’d phoned him to see Jonathon. She’d rightly suspected appendicitis. ‘Forget it. I’m on my way.’ He was going to be unpopular either way he did this, and if Black was seriously ill again then that was more important than delaying an operation.
The lift doors swished open, reminding him what he should be focused on. Heading directly to the room where Jonathon had spent the last couple of weeks, he hesitated at the door when he saw Stacey talking to his patient. His heart did a little dance. No hesitation there. It was his mind that kept throwing up reasons not to get too involved. And frankly he was over what his mind was trying to do to his hopes.
He hadn’t been cautious the first time round, but he was being so this time, and it was getting uncomfortable. If he wasn’t careful, Stacey and Holly would bear the brunt of his past. As if Stacey would deliberately hurt him. What he saw and knew would be what he got and more, and that was good—kind, loving and fun. Heart and mind were getting mixed up now. Time to take a break.
But it wasn’t that simple. The Wainwrights were friendly and caring, open and sharing. Which was Stacey through and through. That’s what he remembered and had longed for since that fatal night when Robert had come to tell him his parents had died. After his blunder with Christine he’d thought he’d never find it. Now he might have it with Anastasia. Might, but he was not totally convinced his heart was right.
There was no denying his attraction for her physically. It was strong and kept him awake most nights. So why not find out if he could live without Stacey in his life? There was doubt there already: it just needed looking into further. There was only one way to find out and that was by shoving cautio
n aside to spend more time with her, starting with asking her out for a meal one night this week.
Decision made, he walked over to his patient. ‘I hear you’re in pain again, Jonathon. Whereabouts?’
Stacey helped Jonathon lift the sheet and pull his hospital gown up to expose his belly.
‘All around here.’ With his palm, Jonathon touched most of his abdomen. ‘It’s not like the last twice. It’s more a widespread ache, worse when I cough or go to the bathroom.’
‘Any nausea?’ Noah gently probed the abdomen.
‘Every time I eat or drink. And the pain gets worse about half an hour after eating.’
‘Can I see the notes?’ he asked Stacey, and took the proffered board.
Flicking through Jonathon’s history, he could find nothing to raise alarm bells. But the blood tests showed not everything was settling down as quickly from the appendicitis as he’d hoped. An underlying cause? Another problem they hadn’t known about?
‘We need more blood tests done. When did you last eat?’
‘Breakfast.’
‘Four hours ago,’ Stacey informed him.
‘The pain was excruciating then.’
Diverticulitis? ‘Right, no more food by mouth. Stacey’ll set you up with intravenous nutrition via fluids. I’m prescribing stronger antibiotics and arranging a CT scan of your bowel.’ Turning to Stacey, he added, ‘Liver functions, urine and stool samples, please.’
When they were well away from Jonathon’s room, Stacey asked, ‘What are you thinking?’
‘Diverticulitis.’