vibration in his pocket shocked him back into the present, his pager becoming a cattle prod to make sure he was back on the right path. Although the message informing him Simon was awake had come too late to save him from himself or from straying onto forbidden territory.
‘Simon’s awake. We should head back.’ And put a stop to whatever this is right now.
Quinn’s face lit up at the news, which really wasn’t helping with the whole neutral, platonic, not-thinking-of-her-as-anything-other-than-a-parent stance he was going to have to take.
‘Oh, good! What are we waiting for?’
There was genuine joy moving in to chase the clouds of despair away in those eyes again. Whether Quinn knew it, or wanted it, Matt could see Simon was the most important thing in her life. He knew fostering was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement until a permanent home for the child was secured and if she wasn’t careful with her heart she’d end up getting hurt. If he’d had to, Matt would’ve fought to the death with the authorities to gain custody over his siblings and he knew he’d have been heartbroken to see them shipped out to strangers after everything he’d done for them.
He didn’t know what Quinn’s long-term plans were, but it was important she didn’t lose sight of her own needs or identity in the midst of it all. At least he’d had his career to focus on when his family had flown the nest and stripped him of his parent role.
Quinn was the sort of woman who needed to be cared for as well as being the nurturer of others.
He didn’t know why he felt the need to be part of that.
The good news that Simon was awake was a welcome interruption for Quinn. She wasn’t proud of the display she’d put on today and it would be best if she and Simon could just disappear back to the house and take her shame with her. At least she could unleash her emotions there without sucking innocent bystanders into the eye of the storm along with her.
Poor Matt, whose only job was to operate on Simon and send them on their way, had run the gauntlet with her today. Irrational jealousy, fear, rage, self-pity and physical attraction—she’d failed to hide any of them in his presence. That last one in particular gave her the shame shudders. He’d been antsy with her ever since that sofa comment.
That sudden urge to crumple into a melting puddle of embarrassment hit again and she wrapped her cardigan around her body, wishing it had a hood to hide her altogether.
She wasn’t stupid. That suggestion she should join the hospital committee was his subtle way of getting her to back off and go bother someone else. He’d made his position very clear—he was done with other people’s kids unless it was in the operating theatre.
‘Are you cold?’ Matt broke through her woolly invisibility shield with another blast of concern. He was such a nice guy, it was easy to misinterpret his good manners for romantic interest and that’s exactly what she’d done.
If she asked around she’d probably find a long line of lonely, frightened women who were holding a candle for him because of his bedside manner. One thing was sure, when he did move on he’d leave a trail of broken hearts behind him.
‘Yeah.’ She shivered more at the thought of Matt leaving than the sudden dip in temperature as they ventured outside. He’d become a very big part of their lives here and she couldn’t imagine going through all of this without him.
Warmth returned to her chilled bones in a flash as perfect gentleman Matt draped his jacket around her shoulders. In another world this would have been a romantic end to their evening and not a doctor’s instinct to prevent her from adding hypothermia to her list of problems. She should have declined the gesture, insisted it wasn’t necessary when they’d soon be back indoors, to prevent her from appearing any more pathetic than she already did. Except the enveloping cocoon of his sports coat was a comfort she needed right now. It held that spicy scent she associated with his usually calming presence in its very fabric.
She supposed it would be weird if she accidentally on purpose forgot to return it and started wearing it as a second skin, like some sort of obsessed fan.
When they reached the hospital lobby she had no option but to extricate herself from the pseudo-Matt-hug. If she didn’t make the break now there was every likelihood she’d end up curled up in bed tonight using it as a security blanket.
‘Thanks. That’ll teach me for leaving home without a coat. Mum would not be happy after all those years of lecturing me about catching my death without one.’ Although she’d be tempted to do it again for a quick Matt fix if she thought she could achieve it without the cringeworthy crying it had taken to get one.
He helped her out of his jacket and shrugged it on over his broad shoulders.
Yeah, it looked better on him anyway.
Given their difference in height and build she’d probably looked even more of a waif trailing along behind him. So not the image any woman wanted to give a man she was attracted to. If she was to imagine Matt’s idea of a perfect partner it would be one of those oh-so-glamorous female managers who seemed to run the departments here, with their perfect hair and make-up looking terribly efficient. Nothing akin to a messy ponytail, and a quick swipe of lipgloss on a bag lady who didn’t know if she was coming or going most of the time. Any romantic notion she held about Matt needed to be left outside the doors of this elevator.
‘You don’t have to go up with me. I know this place like the back of my hand. Thanks for your help today but I can take it from here. We’ll see you again at our next appointment.’ She jabbed the button to take her back to Simon, trying not to think about who, or what, Matt had planned for the rest of the night without her.
‘I’m sure you can but I promised Simon I’d come and see him. Remember? I wouldn’t want to renege on our deal.’ Matt stepped into the lift behind her.
It wasn’t unexpected given his inherent chivalry but as the steel doors closed, trapping them in the small space together, Quinn almost wished he had gone back on his word so she could breathe again. In here there were no other distractions, no escape from the gravitational pull of Matt McGrory.
She tried not to make eye contact, and instead hummed tunelessly rather than attempt small talk, meaning that the crackling tension remained until another couple joined them on the next floor. Extra bodies should’ve diffused her urge to throw herself at him and give in to the temptation of one tiny kiss to test her theory about his hidden passion, but the influx only pushed them closer together until they were touching. There was no actual skin-to-skin contact through the layers of their clothes but the static hairs on the back of her neck said they might as well be naked.
Another heavyset man shoulder-barged his way in, knocking Matt off balance next to her.
‘Sorry,’ he said, his hand sliding around her waist as he steadied himself.
Quinn hoped her cardi wasn’t flammable because she was about to go up like a bonfire.
His solid frame surrounded her, shielding her from any bumps or knocks from the growing crowd. He had a firm grip on her, protecting her, claiming her. She thought it was wishful thinking on her part until they arrived at their floor and he escorted her out, refusing to relinquish his hold until they were far from the crowd. His lingering touch even now in the empty corridor was blowing her he’s-only-being-polite theory out of the water. Surely his patience would’ve run out by now if all of this had simply been him humouring her?
It was a shame he hadn’t come into her life before it had become so complicated, or later, when things were a bit more stable. Pre-Darryl, when she hadn’t been afraid to let someone get close, or post-Simon, when she might have some more control over what happened in her life.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship with anyone but she didn’t want to close the door on the idea altogether. Men like Matt didn’t come around very