was doing her best to be happy on her thirtieth birthday, but her heart was sad because Cole was supposedly deployed offshore with the army.
He couldn’t wait to see her face when he dropped his best friend off at their apartment this afternoon. It would be a big surprise, one he couldn’t justify when he saw the sadness lurking in the back of Vicki’s eyes. He’d prefer to tell her the truth, and have her meet Cole, but he’d given his friend his word, and promises were not to be broken.
Molly appeared in the doorway, a rare genuine smile lighting up her face and causing those emerald eyes to sparkle, though she’d glared at him earlier. He shouldn’t have pushed her buttons but, hell, it’d been impossible not to when he was exhausted after eight hours dealing with what felt like half of Sydney coming through the ED’s doors.
Molly rattled him in ways he couldn’t believe. He was not used to having his libido captivated by a woman who wasn’t interested in him. What libido? Since Rosie’s death there’d been little going on in that department, and when there was it was for relief, not involvement. He couldn’t imagine being lucky enough to find love for a second time, hadn’t been ready to consider it because who got that lucky? Yet today Molly had him questioning that.
Nathan shrugged. So there might be more nous behind Nurse O’Keefe’s non-confrontational looks and that beautiful, heart-stopping face than he thought. He should’ve wound her up weeks ago if the flaring temper in her expression was the result. Far more interesting than quiet and mousy, as he’d believed. A shiver ripped down his spine, but not because her haughty glare daunted him. Not a bit. Instead it gave him a sharp awareness of the woman behind the glare.
Molly was waking up his body, which he preferred to leave in sleep mode until he decided otherwise. The sense of being slightly off balance had come out of left field the day she’d started in the department, and now he’d had enough of feeling out of whack. This morning it’d been time to push her boundaries over not joining in staff events so he could get relief from these frustrating sensations. This reaction confused him, and made him feel more than annoyed. Yeah, frustrated. But as in sexually or more? He didn’t have a clue.
‘You all going to spend the day in there?’ he called out. No way did he intend heading to the café without making sure Molly didn’t do a runner, because, say what she liked, she had looked edgy for a moment. Vicki liked her a lot, so Molly doing an about-face wasn’t happening.
‘Pretty much. How come you waited?’ Molly’s enticing shoulders had returned to their normal, slightly sloped position and her chin had softened back to quiet and mousy.
Except he no longer trusted his interpretation of that look. There was more to Nurse O’Keefe than met the eye. Deep down, had he always suspected so? And reacted accordingly by keeping his barriers in place to protect himself? For better or worse, there was a need ticking inside him making it impossible to look away, or deny how she intrigued him, or pretend he did not want her in his bed, underneath him. Or on top if she preferred. Jeez. He scrubbed his hands down his face. What was wrong with him?
‘You run out of words?’
Something like that. ‘I’m making sure no one gets lost.’
Her smile didn’t slip a notch. ‘I told Vicki I’d be there, and I never go back on my word.’ Then doubt—or was it guilt?—slid through her sharp gaze and she looked away.
‘Glad to hear it.’ What was that about? Had she let someone down? In a big way that had come back to haunt her? Behind his ribs a sense of confusion lurched and an unreal feeling of protectiveness crept over him. For Molly? Hardly. There was definitely far more to this woman than he’d realised, but why spend time wondering what made her tick when it was obvious she wouldn’t have a bar of him? She was a challenge. And causing a pool of desire to settle in his gut.
Could be hunger for food doing a number on him. Not Molly. He’d missed snack breaks throughout the night—always a bad thing. But nothing was dispelling that softening sensation in his belly as he watched her. Without even trying, she was doing a number on him. Bet he was the last person she wanted to spend time with, even if only over coffee. Was it time for a change? On both their parts? Could be it was time for him to step outside his secure bubble and poke at life, see where it took him.
As long as it wasn’t more than he was prepared to give. More than he was able to give. He’d given his heart to Rosie, and she’d taken it to the grave with her. Or so he’d believed, until—until now and the thin ray of hope beginning to pierce his long-held belief that he couldn’t be that lucky.
He and Rosie had been childhood sweethearts and so in love it had been unreal at times. Except reality had got in the way of their plans for a house and babies in the form of leukaemia. From the first day Rosie had complained of lethargy and swollen, sore glands they had been on a one-way road to hell. It had been a short trip, lasting little more than three months. He’d been glad for her sake it was over quickly, but for himself he’d only wanted her never to leave him, taking his dreams away for ever.
The disease that had taken Rosie’s life had a lot to answer for. He used to picture them together, raising their kids, having a great life. The past four years had been long, and lonely in a way he wouldn’t have believed before she’d died.
‘Nathan?’
He pulled out of his reverie to find Vicki watching him with amusement forming crinkles at the corners of her eyes. ‘Yes?’
‘Lead on. We’re all good to go.’ Her wink was slow, and downright mischievous, reminding him how she and Cole thought it was time he came out of his cave. Grabbing his elbow, Vicki strode ahead of the group, tugging him along with her.
‘I’m hangry,’ he warned around a smile. His friends cared about him so he let them off their interfering ways.
Vicki only laughed. ‘I heard you giving Molly a bit of a roasting this morning about the winter party. One she didn’t deserve, by the way.’
‘Someone had to tell her to get over staying on the fringe around us.’
Vicki jabbed him with an elbow. ‘Others have told you they’ll be there and not signed the list. Who needs a list anyway?’
‘I do.’ He huffed a breath. ‘Why did she do that pen-snatching thing and scrawl her name across the page large enough to suggest I might be blind?’
‘To rile you? It worked, by the way.’
I know that. Damn her. ‘Right.’ A spurt of resentment soured his mouth. He swallowed it away, and managed to laugh at himself. So Miss Mousy had got one over him. Game on, Molly O’Keefe.
Vicki hadn’t finished. ‘I’m glad you nudged her about joining in. It’s good for her.’ Another jab from that blasted elbow. ‘She needs to get out more.’
Nathan stared at his friend. ‘Since when has she talked about anything that’s not to do with patients?’ He’d never heard Molly say something as simple as she’d been to the hair salon. And, yes, he knew when she went because those short, red curls would be quiet, in place, for a few days before returning to their riot of crazy colour. He preferred the wild to the tamed.
A tingling itch sometimes crept over his palms as he wondered about pushing his fingers through her hair. Then he’d remember he didn’t have a heart any more and would go and see a patient. See? Early on she had disturbed him in ways only Rosie had ever done, yet they were opposites. Rosie had mostly been calm, with little that would upset her. On the other hand, Miss Quiet and Mousy, red head contrasting with her temperament and all, managed to upset his orderly existence without even trying, especially when he was overtired or pressured by a particularly ill child. As of now he was going to delete mousy from the nickname.
Vicki tapped him none too gently on the shoulder to bring his attention back to her. ‘Molly lives in an apartment on the third floor of a block in Bondi Junction, takes the train to work, has a regular car that doesn’t stand out at the lights, and likes to watch comedy shows on TV. Oh, and she has lots of amazing clothes