‘True.’ Abbie’s smile finally faded. She’d always felt bad about not working out what had been going on behind Emma’s closed door during her marriage. Not that they’d lived next door to each other then. That had come after Emma had gone solo and started looking for her own place. It had been Abbie who’d suggested she move into the apartment next to hers and made her parents take Emma as a tenant. The move had turned her life around and got her back on track, this time as a solo mum.
‘Hey, don’t go there. I could’ve told you long before I did.’ They’d also had this part of the conversation more than once. ‘For the record, I think you’re right. Nixon doesn’t have a nasty bone in his body.’
‘You’ve seen his bones?’ A wicked gleam lit up Abbie’s eyes.
‘No.’
‘I saw that. You want to.’
Emma screwed up her nose, and gave up trying to remain coy. ‘Is it possible to have a fling—okay, sex—with a guy for as long as it takes to get the need out of your system and then walk away without being hurt?’
‘For you and me, no.’
‘Then this conversation’s redundant. Nixon remains in the boss and casual friend category.’ A sharp pain stabbed behind her ribs. Nothing to do with boobs that were full of milk not needed, and all to do with a longing she hadn’t known existed until very recently, and which she couldn’t—but had to find a way to—deny.
‘Em.’ Abbie nudged her. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Or on any guy who comes along showing some interest in you. Your life isn’t over.’
Said the woman who’d believed for a long time that her life was finished when Michael died. It was Emma’s turn to slash tears away from her cheeks. Staring down at the gorgeous bundle tucked into her arm, she gave a wobbly smile. ‘I have Rosie.’ She didn’t need anyone else. But there were days when she wouldn’t mind a man in her life she could trust and rely on not to beat her up. And to love her for who she was. ‘My life’s pretty darned good these days.’ She’d had lunch with a friend on her deck. That never happened.
She’d ignore the longing for strong arms and a warm male body tucked against hers lying in bed that sometimes woke her in the deep of the night and kept her awake for hours. It only happened occasionally. She could handle that. It was how she stayed safe.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROSIE RAN AROUND the park, shrieking and laughing as only little girls did as she held onto the kite’s string. ‘Mummy, look what I can do.’
Emma tightened her hold on the wooden baton holding the rest of the string, staying in the centre of Rosie’s circles. ‘Awesome.’ The kite dipped and came close to the ground before soaring on a chilly gust of wind. Summer had taken a leaf from winter’s book and dumped a load of snow on the Remarkables over night.
‘Do you think Santa can see me?’ Rosie spun round and round, her head tipped back to watch the caterpillar-shaped kite until vertigo won out and she tumbled over, landing on her back, feet in the air.
‘Hey, careful.’
‘Must be all right. She’s still laughing.’
Emma’s head shot up too fast, and her neck cricked. ‘Nixon?’ Who else had a voice that lifted her skin and tightened her gut? So, the hormones were still out of whack.
‘Heard you two were down here creating havoc. This one’s just like her mother.’
‘Naturally. All kids pick up some of their parents’ ways, and as long as Rosie’s got my better ones we’re doing okay.’
‘I guess.’ Nixon strode across to giggling Rosie and pulled her to her feet. ‘You’ve got to look where you’re going, missy.’
‘Did you see me crash, Nixon? Watch me with the kite.’ She was off, racing across the park, her little legs pumping fast. Once again her focus was on the kite as it began rising back into the air, and not on where she was going.
‘I’ve got it,’ Nixon tossed Emma’s way and chased after Rosie.
‘You need this,’ Emma called. Just like her daughter, he wasn’t watching anything but the kite, but he’d heard her and took the baton. Ignoring the flare of heat where his fingers brushed hers, she followed at a leisurely pace.
Why was he here helping Rosie launch the kite after a sudden nosedive into the bushes? ‘How did you know where to find us?’ she asked.
‘Abbie.’ Nixon stood hands on hips, his eyes tracking Rosie, wariness on his face.
‘You weren’t meant to say?’
He shrugged. ‘It would’ve been better if I hadn’t, apparently.’
‘Abbie will want to live a little longer.’ She wouldn’t admit to being happy Nixon was here.
He smiled, and her stomach dived. ‘I dropped by to see how you’re getting on.’
‘Nixon, are you coming to our picnic?’ Rosie burst between them. ‘We’re going to have it after I finish flying my kite.’
He flicked Emma a silent query, and she nodded.
‘We’ve got chocolate biscuits,’ Rosie enticed.
‘I can’t say no to those, can I?’ Nixon laughed. Very carefree today.
‘Yippee.’ Rosie was off running more circles.
Emma watched her as she said, ‘About work, if it fits I might do some mornings later in the week. I can be the bandage nurse, fix cuts and bruises. Nothing heavy.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘I’m going to start painting stripes on my walls soon. Purple and red ones.’
‘Stripes?’
‘Or a large snakes and ladders board.’
‘You’re bored at home?’ Nixon hiccupped. ‘That’s why you’re down here?’
‘Sort of.’ No. ‘I needed to ge
t away from Grace crying.’
The beginning laughter faded instantly. ‘You’re looking for diversion. Is this doing it for you?’
‘Sometimes I feel a ball of tears building up and I’m afraid to let them out. Especially when Abbie could walk in any moment. She doesn’t need to see me losing it. That would make her sad at a time when she should be happy.’
‘You’re feeling empty?’
Bang on. ‘There’s a big hole where normally the baby would be. It’s not unexpected, but it’s hard all the same. Then I see the love and joy in Abbie’s eyes and the hole disappears for a while.’
‘To come back when you’re tired or Grace is crying.’
She nodded. ‘I have to be patient.’ It hadn’t started getting any easier yet.
‘You’re being honest with yourself, and that’s got to help.’ Nixon stared across the park. ‘You’ve got Rosie, too.’
‘I’d be lost without her. I only hope I’m not putting any pressure on her as a substitute.’
I’m being honest with you, too. Understand? I’m telling you how I feel. Think you could do the same next time I ask about your feelings?
‘Rosie looks as happy as ever.’
‘Thanks,’ she said neutrally, and waited for more comments on how she was doing, because they were coming. Plain as day in that intense gaze.
Nixon looked down at her, his steady, deep gaze making her feel warm and cared about. ‘You’re amazing, you know?’ Then he blinked, as though he’d shocked himself.
Amazing, huh? She’d take it, even if it wasn’t true. A girl could get used to compliments. Could even start believing them.
It still rankled that he hadn’t opened up even an incy-wincy bit about his reaction at the crash, but she could’ve got that wrong too. Reading people wasn’t always her forte. Sick, injured, frightened patients—yes. Joe Average on the street, in her apartment, at Rosie’s school? Not often. She’d used to have that skill, but maybe she needed to start trusting herself again?
‘Nixon, Mummy, the kite’s in the tree.’