to reception. At least Moira would appreciate her gesture. She doubted Declan would even notice.
She was back to him again. She still had the feeling of things being not quite right between them. He’d erupted into the practice and into her life and she’d hardly had time to take stock. He hadn’t exactly steamrollered over her but he hadn’t wasted any time in putting his plans into action. But then she’d given him tacit permission, hadn’t she? Because the alternative had been too bleak to contemplate.
Oh, help. Emma turned her restless gaze towards the kitchen window. It would be dark soon. Suddenly she was beset with a strange unease. She couldn’t begin the first week of their new partnership with so many of her questions unresolved.
They needed to talk.
Now she’d decided, she wouldn’t hold back, although her heart was slamming at the thought of what she was about to take on. They’d already exchanged mobile phone numbers. She’d find him about the place somewhere.
He answered on the fourth ring. ‘O’Malley.’
‘Hi—it’s me—Emma.’
‘Problem?’
She took a shallow breath. He wasn’t making this easy. ‘Are you busy?’
‘Er—no. I’ve just been for a jog.’
Emma blinked uncertainly. ‘How did it go?’
‘Pretty good,’ he said, sounding pleased with himself. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing, really. I wondered whether we could get together this evening—just sort out a few things before work tomorrow…’
‘OK…’ He seemed to be thinking. ‘Want to grab a bite to eat somewhere, then? Or, better still, come to me. I’ve moved into the log cabin at Foley’s farm. Know where it is?’
‘Yes.’ Emma’s fingers tightened on the phone. The Foleys lived about a kilometre out of town. ‘I thought it was only a holiday let.’
‘I struck a deal with the Foleys. It’s mine for as long as I need it.’
‘I see…well, that’s good. About dinner—I’ve made soup. I could bring some over.’
He curled a low laugh. ‘You’re obviously intent on feeding me. But soup sounds good. I did a shop this morning. I’m sure we’ll find something to go with it.’
Declan felt a new spring in his step as he threw himself under the shower. How odd that Emma must have been thinking about him just at the same moment he’d been thinking about her…
Emma was glad he’d found somewhere to live, and the log cabin was a comfortable option for the time being, she thought, guiding the car carefully over the cattle grid that marked the entrance to the farm. The cabin was barely five minutes drive further on and in seconds she saw the lighted windows come into view. As she pulled to a stop in front of the cabin, her heart began its pattering again, the nerves in her stomach lurching and flailing like a drunken butterfly.
Out of the car, she took a moment to look up at the sky. It was the same night sky she’d been seeing since she was a child, the same stars. But tonight she noticed them in a way she never had before. The Milky Way was its usual wash of grey-white light, peppered with twinkling stars. But tonight, as she watched, one lone star shot across the heavens, leaving a glittering trail of light before it disappeared.
‘Stargazing?’ Declan’s deep voice was husky behind her.
‘Oh—’ Emma spun round, giving a jagged half-laugh. He was standing on the sheltered front porch. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’
‘Saw your headlights. Coming in?’
‘Mmm.’ Suddenly, for no reason at all, anticipation was a sweet ache in her chest, a flutter in her breathing. She held her vacuum jug of soup tightly and followed him inside.
The cabin was open-plan and modern with the lounge area and kitchen melded into one living space. ‘Oh, good,’ Emma said lightly. ‘You’ve got the fire going.’
‘Glass of wine?’ Declan offered as they moved across the timber floor to the kitchen. ‘I have a nice local red.’
‘OK, thanks.’ Emma placed her soup on the counter top. ‘You should be comfortable here.’
Declan didn’t comment. Instead, he took up the wine he’d left breathing and poured two glasses. He handed one to Emma, unable to stop himself gazing at her with an intensity that made his heart stall for a second and then pick up speed. She was wearing jeans that clung to her legs and outlined a pert little backside. Her top was a frilly button-up shirt, the neckline open just enough to expose a hint of cleavage. Her hair had a just-washed, just-brushed shine about it and when their gazes met and she smiled at him he felt a jolt to every one of his senses. Hell. How was he going to get through the evening without wanting to…?
‘What?’ Emma raised a quick brow.
He shrugged, breaking eye contact quickly. ‘I guess we should drink to the future of our partnership.’
Emma’s mind went blank. They seemed to have travelled half a lifetime in a few days. Even this morning, she’d woken with a start, wondering whether she’d dreamed it all—that she actually had a partner for the practice, someone to rely on, to confer with—to trust. ‘I guess we should.’ She gave a tinny laugh to disguise the sudden attack of nerves. Lifting her glass to his, she echoed, ‘To our partnership.’
‘What kind of soup did you bring?’ Declan cringed at the banality of his conversation. But his brain felt like shredded cheese.
‘Minestrone.’
‘A meal in itself.’ He sent her a crooked grin. ‘I put some herb bread in the oven to warm when I knew you were bringing soup.’
Emma savoured another mouthful of the full-bodied wine. ‘You know about food, then?’
He lifted a shoulder modestly. ‘I went along to the farmers’ market this morning. I thought I might have seen you there.’
Emma blinked rapidly. ‘I used to go when I had time to cook.’
‘The produce is amazing,’ Declan said, indicating they should take their wine through to the lounge area. ‘I couldn’t stop buying stuff.’
Emma chuckled. ‘And I’ll bet the stall-holders couldn’t wait to sell you stuff._ The whole town will know who you are by now.’
‘They will?’ He looked startled.
‘And that you’re living here and fending for yourself.’
He groaned. ‘It won’t be daily casseroles at the surgery, will it?’
‘Not just casseroles.’ Emma sent him an innocent wide-eyed look and curled herself into the big squishy armchair. ‘There’ll possibly be apple pies as well. Bendemere will want you to feel at home here.’
‘I think I’m beginning to already.’ He’d taken his place on the sofa opposite her. ‘By the way, I released young Ashleigh this afternoon.’
‘Any problems?’
He was about to ask if she’d expected any. Except he’d seen the flash of worry in her eyes. ‘None at all,’ he elaborated. ‘And I have Aaron and Renee coming in for a chat tomorrow.’
Emma felt a flood of relief. If he’d already got on first name terms with the Maines, then he must have at least listened to her concerns and trod softly. ‘They’re not bad parents. They’re just—’
‘Young?’ Declan gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll be gentle with them, Emma, but I promise I’ll get through to them, whatever it takes.’
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