drifted across the face he knew so well, and a shiver of something he didn’t want to recognise tightened through him.
She pulled away quickly and the connection broke.
Thank God, because he was getting carried away in all her emotion. And that was definitely not something he was planning on doing. Emotional distance was the only thing that stopped him wreaking any more damage on those he loved. Hell, he was his father’s son after all. Emotional distance was what MacAllister men did better than anyone else. But somehow he didn’t think that that admission would go down well on Georgie’s tick list.
‘Thank you. Thank you so much. It means a lot to me.’ She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Again with the goosebumps. This time they prickled all the way to his gut and lower. ‘I’ll mull it over and … um … let you know? Soon as possible?’
‘Okay, and I’ll get the turkey baster sorted for when you say yes.’ Now he needed to ignore the strange feelings and off-load some of this ache in his chest. He saw a damned long run in his immediate future.
Her demeanour changed. She brushed a hand down over her scrub trousers, all business and organisation as she took a shaky little step away from him. ‘Like I said, we’ll do it the clinic way.’
‘For sure. Any other way would be just too—’
Her head tilted a little to the side. ‘Ick?’
He grinned. ‘Is that a technical term?’
‘Absolutely. For that weird feeling you get when you think about sleeping with your best friend? Like sex with your cousin? Right? Weird.’ Shuddering, she looked to him for reassurance.
Which he gave unreservedly. ‘Right. Yes. Ick’s the word.’
The notion of them having sex had rarely arisen. Back in the early days he’d caught himself looking at her and wondering. She’d walked through his dreams many nights. He’d tried to imagine what kissing her would have been like. How she would taste. How she would feel underneath him. Around him. But he’d never put any of that into words for fear she’d run a mile. He’d never asked more from her than what they’d already had and, frankly, he’d believed that any kind of fling would inevitably ruin the great friendship they’d built up.
She was worth more to him than just sex. And seeing as that was the only thing he ever offered to women, he’d never wanted to risk doing something so pointlessly stupid and losing her.
Plus, while Georgie was funny and loyal, she’d never made a move or seemed interested in him in that way. They’d had an implicit agreement that anything of a sexual nature could never happen. So he’d sublimated those imaginings until he’d stopped having them. Had lost himself in other women.
Which made it all the more nonsensical that he’d started noticing things again … like her smell, the colour of her hair, her eyes. Surely it could only mean some sort of nostalgia for the younger Georgie in his past when the present was shifting out of his control?
Eight months ago …
Hey, stranger. Thought you’d want to know that your genius sperm has done what it was designed to do … I’m pregnant!
Great news. Congratulations.
FINALLY, AN ANSWER. Biggest news she’d ever had and not one exclamation mark. Not one. No cheers or fanfares. No questions. Was he not just a little curious? Pleased for her? Maybe it was the whole emotionless text thing stuffing up the sentiment of his message, but hadn’t the man heard about emoticons?
Disappointed, Georgie texted him back.
I’m so excited! :) Catch up soon?
Sure. Things are a bit busy right now. Packing. South Sudan. In two days. I’ll try come over to say bye.
Okay, your call.
He was heading off again and he’d try to come and see her? Try? What the hell …? Packing didn’t take two whole days. He was the world’s lightest traveller.
And, actually, it was her call just as much as his. Worrying about contacting him had never been an issue before and it shouldn’t be now just because she was carrying his baby. No. Her baby. He’d made that very clear. But surely they could still be friends? She wasn’t going to allow this to change what they had. Why should pregnancy make a difference?
But it did, she realised. Not just to her relationship with Liam, but to her. She was going to be a mum. A mother. With a family. Something she’d never had before. She was going to be part of something … more.
She put a hand to her very flat, very unpregnant-looking stomach and her heart did another flip. It was still so early, too early to grow attached; any number of things could go wrong. But it was already too late. Her stomach tumbled as she closed her eyes, imagining.
Hey, there, little one. Nice to meet you.
And that was about all she dared say. She felt something tug deep inside her. These days she seemed to be so emotional about things. About the baby. About Liam …
Well, if he wasn’t going to make an effort then she damn well would. She wanted to celebrate and send him off on his travels with no tension between them. Georgie stabbed his number into the phone and left a message: ‘Hey, step away from your backpack. Let’s do something. I won’t take no for an answer. I get the feeling you’re avoiding me. But if you are, please don’t admit it. Just say you’ve been busy. Mission Bay? Six-thirty. I’m hiring bikes. No excuses.’
‘Are you bonkers or just straight up certifiable?’ Three hours later his voice, behind her, although irritated and loud, made her heart jig in her chest. He’d turned up at least, and for that she was grateful. ‘Cycling? In your condition? Seriously?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, I’m fine. How many times have we done this?’ She turned and pretended to scowl, but her scowl dropped the moment she set eyes on him. He was wearing a scruffy old T-shirt that hugged his toned muscles and was the same vibrant blue as his eyes. Faded jeans graced his long legs, framing his bum … and, no, she’d never really studied it before, but it was deliciously gorgeous. No wonder he had a queue of women trying to encourage him to commit.
Heat hit her cheeks and shimmied down to her belly, where it transformed into What would he be like in bea?
And that was just one of too many thoughts about him recently that were way out of line.
To distract herself from staring too long at the man who had suddenly become a whole new fascination for her, she clipped on her helmet and prepared to use up some of this nervous energy. Pregnant, yes. Petrified, indeedy. Strangely excited just to see her long-lost best mate? Very definitely. And that made her legs twitch and her stomach roll.
‘I needed some fresh air. It’s such a beautiful evening and it’s the weekend tomorrow. Freedom! We could get fish and chips and eat them on the beach later.’
He frowned and pointed to her helmet. ‘Take it off, Georgie. It’s too dangerous. We haven’t been cycling for years, you could fall off. Why you suddenly want to do it now I don’t know.’
‘Because it used to be fun and I don’t know why we got out of the habit of doing it. I want the fun back.’ She shook her head in defiance. ‘And stop being ridiculous. You’re a doctor, you know very well that at this stage in pregnancy it’s perfectly fine to exercise. Come on, I’ll be fine, it’s not as if I’m bungee jumping. Although, there is a free slot at the Skytower at eight. So if we hurry …’ She handed him his helmet and stood, arms crossed over her chest, until he’d put it on over that grumpy face. ‘Breathe, Liam. Breathe. It was a joke. And do try to keep up!’
The sea air was filled with salt and heat and the smell of a distant barbecue. Overhead, seagulls