his personal time when he was clearly no longer in professional doctor mode. When she stopped to think about it she wouldn’t have appreciated him turning up at her house unannounced.
He began to descend the ladder and her chance for escape vanished as he spotted her through the window and waved her in with one hand while balancing a paint tray and paintbrush in the other.
‘Mollie!’ The sounds of hammering and drilling ceased as he announced her entrance to the room full of volunteers.
‘Hi,’ she mumbled, trying to block out all the eyes trained on their exchange.
The sudden turnaround on her decision to take part might cause him even more inconvenience and she’d no idea how this news was going to be received. With any luck he’d already picked up another partner since they’d last spoken, all this worry was for nothing and they could go back to being members of staff whose paths occasionally crossed during the course of their mutual patients’ treatment.
‘What brings you here? The sudden urge to brush up on your carpentry skills or add your name to our list of volunteers?’ The friendly welcome was a far cry from the prickly atmosphere that had developed between them at work and took Mollie by surprise. If he was disturbed by her sudden appearance he hid it very well as he guided her away from the centre of attention towards the back of the room, leaving everyone else to go back to their woodwork and chat.
‘Er...maybe next time. Although I’m not entirely sure what I could do to help.’ Seeing him sacrifice what little time he probably had free on his busy schedule guilt-tripped her into suggesting she might be talked into a second visit. One that would see her rolling up her sleeves and getting dirty, no less.
‘Every little helps. I can’t say my own skills go beyond touching up the paintwork every now and again but I try. As you can see.’ He gave an apologetic nod towards his emulsion-covered attire, which drew Mollie’s attention to the faded grey T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. It left much less to the imagination than the loose cotton shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Probably for health and safety reasons when that small patch of smooth skin showing through the sizeable rip in the shoulder seam was so distracting.
She forced herself to maintain eye contact. ‘It looks great. Fresh.’
‘We’re expecting the dance competition to bring us a lot of interest in the local press so we’re trying to spruce the place up. We want any potential donors or sponsors to see the potential in keeping this going for the community.’
She could see that they were all working hard to make a good impression on those who held The Shed’s sustainability in the folds of their wallets, as there was as much cleaning going on around here as there was woodworking. That urge to offer her help became too great for her conscience to ignore.
‘Perhaps I could come back some time and paint a mural on the wall to brighten things up a bit?’ She was already thinking of how she could add trailing vines and other elements inspired by nature to give the workspace more colour and character and make it seem more homely and less clinical. If he was willing to offer an olive branch there was no reason she couldn’t do the same.
‘That would be amazing! Thank you.’
‘The reason I actually came here—’ She tried to steer them back towards the purpose of the visit before she ingratiated herself any further into this little group.
‘Would you like a tour?’ In his delight at having secured another member into their army, he apparently didn’t seem to care about why she was here and only that the enchantment of watching their endeavours would keep her here.
Before she could decline he’d rested his hand in the small of her back and was gently manoeuvring her towards the source of the noise hammering away in the background. Even though he was touching a part of her body that didn’t usually cause her any discomfort—untarnished by jagged reminders of the accident—that slight contact made her skin burn with the same self-awareness. It was a long time since anyone had laid a hand on her but she was going to have to get used to it if she was expecting to take up ballroom dancing.
‘This is Tom, our man in charge.’
He seemed oblivious to the tingling sensation he was causing to ripple across her skin as he introduced her to the older man in the navy coveralls and safety glasses. In the end she had to take a step away to break the contact under the guise of saying hello to Tom, who was planing long lengths of wood at the back of the shop.
Ben continued with the tour to show her the fruits of their labour lining the walls. ‘The men start off with small projects, such as planters and bird boxes, which they go on to sell and raise funds for more materials, but the experts like Tom here have progressed to things like dog kennels and tables. We even recycle the offcuts of timber and bag them up for firewood to help with the costs. We don’t like to waste anything here.’
Including time, Mollie suspected, which brought her back to the reason she’d spared some of hers to come here tonight. ‘I’m very impressed with the whole set-up but I actually came here to tell you I’ve had a change of heart over the dance competition. I am going to take part after all. If it’s not too late to re-register my interest?’
She didn’t enjoy portraying herself as indecisive or as flaky as some of her family members when she’d always prided herself on being the reliable one. This turnaround only hours after denying all knowledge of her addition to the list of competitors could seem as though she was just being contrary this afternoon because he’d interrupted her clinic.
He raised an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t question the change of heart. ‘Not at all. It saves me having to strong-arm a reluctant replacement to make up the numbers.’
Somehow she doubted he’d have trouble trying to persuade anybody to do anything. If she’d waited until tomorrow to tell him there would probably have been a queue of women waiting to take her place in his good books. It was the sound of her sister’s voice in her head telling her she needed to get a life of her own that stopped her from backing out again. She might’ve made the mistake in thinking he cared about who took part in this competition but Talia was probably right—it would do her good to do something out of her usual routine.
‘So, is there an information day or something where the couples will be announced?’ Now she’d committed to taking part she was keen to know the finer details, and her mother had forced her to watch enough of those dancing shows to know it was a big deal to find out who you were paired with. Okay, she doubted there were any celebrities in the mix, but she was sure they’d create something of a buzz to kick-start the interest in tickets for the event. Although she wasn’t eager to get up close and personal with her colleagues any time soon, it might put her mind at rest if the other half of her team had some sort of dance experience. She didn’t want to be the joke act of the competition, literally being dragged around the floor with all the grace of a baby elephant.
‘We did the launch this afternoon. That’s why I came looking for you...’ He shrugged an apology but Mollie was happy to have dodged whatever spectacle had taken place. She wouldn’t be so lucky next time.
‘Sorry. I really didn’t mean to mess you around.’ It was Talia who should be taking the heat for this and standing here hanging her head in shame, not her. She might have covered for her sister’s screw-ups when they were kids but, as she was professing to be a grown-up now, this was the last time.
‘No harm done.’ Either the paint fumes had got to him or he was genuinely a much more relaxed man outside work, because he didn’t appear fazed at all by the inconvenience.
Mollie, on the other hand, had spent every second since clocking off having this conversation in her head, imagining being forced to make a grovelling apology while his temper exploded again like Bonfire Night fireworks. Now she was wondering if she should have worried at all and simply left things alone.
‘If you could give me the details of whoever my partner is, I’ll be on my way.’ A name or a number would be sufficient so she could go and collapse into a puddle of nervous exhaustion at home and let him