Life Support: Escape to the Country (13 page)

“That’s if there is a next time.”

“Mummy please,” Ruby whined.

Tom rolled his shoulders backward and switched his hat from one hand to the other. “Your mum might be right Rubes. Buckley’s only on trial. Maybe he isn’t the right pony for you. If he keeps pigrooting, he’s not safe for you to ride.”

Christine smiled at Emma, finally noticing her. “How are we going to convince Tom that horse riding isn’t the safest activity for a five-year-old?”

Emma bit her lip.

“She could have as easily fallen off her bike,” Tom retorted.

“I think we will have to agree to disagree on that one,” Christine replied evenly.

Half an hour later, the doctor cleared Ruby’s spine and allowed her to sit up and eat. They wanted to keep her under observation for a few more hours, to be sure, but then she could go home. Other than a bruised ego, she was perfectly fine.

Emma, on the other hand, was not fine.

The moment Tom entered the department, she knew it was going to be impossible watching him and his wife play the happy families game, but the reality was a hundred times worse than she had anticipated. If she couldn’t get over her infatuation, there was no way she could have anything to do with him or Lexton Downs. If she was left alone with Tom again, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself.

At the end of her shift, Emma snuck past Ruby’s cubicle. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, the lights were dimmed and Ruby was sound asleep. Christine sat on one side of the bed, holding Ruby’s hand. There was no sign of Tom, for which Emma was grateful. She wasn’t in a hurry to see him again. Not wanting to intrude, Emma waved as she walked past. As Christine smiled her thanks, Emma was once again filled with a deep regret that she’d kissed this woman’s husband.

Outside, an icy horizontal rain and a strong wind threatened to push her sideways. The temperature had plummeted and the dark sky brought a reminder that summer was still a long way off.
Typical
. The one day she hadn’t brought a coat
or
an umbrella. What a miserable way to end what had otherwise been a fabulous first day.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and was about to step out from the cover of the hospital building and begin walking home when something plowed into her chest with the force of a category five storm. Not something. Someone.

Tom. The one person she was trying to avoid.

She absorbed the force of the impact with a small grunt.

“God Emma, I’m sorry. I was running for the car and wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” He grabbed her arm. His other hand clasped the handle of an oversized dark green golf umbrella, which he held above their heads in an unsuccessful attempt to keep them dry.

As her brain registered how warm his fingers felt against her damp skin, his scent filled her head and she almost came undone. Twisting free from his grip, she pirouetted faster than a Russian ballerina and stepped away from him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” she stammered. She wasn’t, but there was no way she was admitting that. She blew out a sigh when he arched one eyebrow at her. “I’m fine. Honestly. It’s been a long day, and now this.” She indicated the weather. “At least Ruby is okay.”

“Can I drive you home?”

“No. It’s not far, I can walk.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’ll be soaked and freezing by the time you get there. Come on, my car is around the corner.” He drew her closer, one arm firm around her waist, the other holding the umbrella aloft. She promptly forgot she’d promised she was going to keep a safe distance between them and nestled closer.

“Thanks,” she said when she’d closed the door behind her and fallen back in her seat. She shook her head like a puppy and water droplets sprayed everywhere. “I can’t believe how wet it is. Was this weather forecast?”

“Yes. Don’t you watch the news? They’ve forecast snow up in the mountains. You’ve been away from home too long if you’ve forgotten about the weather patterns around here.”

“You might be right.”

“Sounds like hail,” Tom said as he adjusted the car’s heating.

They sat listening to the ice bouncing off the roof while they waited for the fogged up windows to clear. When he finally pulled out of the parking lot, he drove slowly in silence, the sound of the storm making it impossible to talk. Minutes later – too soon – they arrived at her parents’ home.

“If you pull into the driveway, I can make a run for it,” she shouted over the sound of the hail still pounding the roof.

“No. Don’t be silly.” He was already out of the car, umbrella up, coming around to her side of the car and opening her door before she could protest at his gallantry.

She automatically grasped the umbrella, but instead her hand wrapped around his. She pulled away as if burned, and they sprinted through the downpour together. They stood under the wide front porch laughing at how wet they were before Emma realized how awkward it was. Awkward, and not right. He is
married
, she reminded herself for the hundredth time.

“Thank you for the ride home,” she said, her hand resting on the doorknob.

“No worries. It was the least I could do. Thank
you
for everything you did today for Ruby. We appreciate how well you cared for her. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you at the hospital. I didn’t even know you were a nurse.”

“I’m glad I was able to help. Today was actually my first day.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No.”

“Well I’m so glad you were there. Can I take you out for dinner tonight to thank you properly?”

She stared at him, eyes wide, thoughts tangled like Christmas tree lights. “Dinner?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you know. Dinner. The meal that’s eaten after lunch. Nothing fancy, but I thought it would be nice to go out and celebrate your first shift. If you’re not up for going out, perhaps you can come back to Lexton Downs and I’ll make us something. What do you think?”

Emma tucked her damp hair behind her ears and tried to formulate words. She barely noticed the rain still bucketing down, pinging on the tin roof above their heads. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Forget about what I think. What would your
wife
think?”

Tom’s face paled and he took a step back, brushing a hand across his face. “Jeez, I’m so sorry. I never explained.” He locked eyes with her and she felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. “Christine’s my
ex
-wife.”

Emma’s heart almost stopped. “What?” The question came out as a high-pitched squeal.

“Christine and I are not married anymore.”

“You’re not married,” she repeated stupidly.

“No.”

Emma gathered her thoughts. “But Ruby
is
your daughter?”

“You’d have to be blind not to notice the resemblance.”

Emma nodded. “She certainly has your hair and skin coloring. But what about the baby?”

Tom frowned. “Baby? Ah, Christine’s baby. It’s her second with Rick, Ruby’s stepdad. They also have Noah. He’s about eighteen months old.”

Emma’s mind raced in confusion. Nothing was making sense. “Are you on good terms?”

“Very good terms. Chris and I were never right for each other. We were good at being friends but useless at being married. She hated living out on the farm. Once the novelty of our relationship wore off, we realized we had nothing in common and we weren’t right for each other. Ruby was a surprise baby and we were already on shaky ground when she was born, but we decided to be the best parents we could be for her. She’s a great kid and knows she’s loved by both of us. Chris and Rick got married when Ruby was just a baby.”

“She does appear to be a happy and well-adjusted little girl.”

“She is. But Chris, Rick and I have worked hard at that. Some people don’t understand it, but it works for us.”

“Who does Ruby live with?”

“With Christine and Rick in town, but she comes out to my place anytime she wants to. Before Mum and I moved out to Lexton Downs I lived on another property nearby and Ruby would sometimes stay the night, other times she’d stay for weeks on end. We make it work. And as you’ve seen, Chris and I communicate well. Rick’s a good bloke and an excellent dad. He and Christine are perfect for each other.”

Emma didn’t know what to say. How could she voice what she was really thinking? That it was all odd and she’d never heard of a split family getting along so well?

“That’s amazing,” she said finally.

She shivered as a sudden gust of wind whipped around the corner of the house.

Tom rubbed her arm. “You need to go inside and get dry. But the offer still stands.” He lowered his voice and gazed expectantly at her. “I’d like to have dinner with you. Maybe we could pick up where we left off with that kiss?”

Emma’s cheeks flamed and she bit down on her lip.

Tom chuckled. “Go on. Say yes. Have dinner with me. I’d like to get to know you more.” He reached for her hand again and tingles raced up her spine at the way his eyes bored into hers.

“Where?” Her mouth said yes before her brain could formulate the right reply.

“My place.”

Her brow furrowed. “Where do you live?”

“At Lexton Downs. In one of the outbuildings behind the stables.”

Ah, so that’s who lived there. She wasn’t going to admit she’d seen his place when she’d been wandering around.

“You don’t look convinced. I
can
cook, you know.”

“Okay.”

He ignored her hesitancy. “So is that yes?”

Emma felt the ground shift beneath her as she nodded.

“Good. I’ll make you glad that was your answer.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, leaving her in no doubt what he meant. “See you tonight.”

*

Emma pulled up near the stables at six o’clock on the dot. The rain had stopped but a cold wind blew straight off the Blue Mountains. Candles flickered in glass jars either side of the front door to Tom’s little cottage. Emma knocked once and Tom opened the door immediately. She gasped at the sight that greeted her. The room was aglow with hundreds of tiny fairy lights and candles. Soft music played from somewhere inside. And it was toasty warm.

“It’s like Christmas!” She sucked in a deep breath and inhaled deeply. “Mm-mm. And what is that divine smell?” She pulled off her coat and hung it on the hook at the door. “I can’t believe you’ve gone to all this trouble. It would’ve taken you hours to set up.”

He shrugged. “I wanted it to be special.” Sudden worry crossed his face “Is it too much?”

“Not at all. I just wish I’d worn something nicer.” She indicated her jeans. In his camel colored chinos, navy wool sweater and polished brown leather boots, Tom looked more gorgeous than ever.

“You could have worn sweatpants and Ugg boots and it wouldn’t have bothered me.”

She blushed.

“Now go and sit in front of the fire while I finish cooking.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

“Nope. It’s almost ready. Hope you like pork belly.”

“Absolutely. It smells amazing.”

“Can I get you a drink? Glass of wine?”

“I have to drive home later.”

“How about a Diet Coke?” He crossed the room to the small kitchenette, opened the fridge and removed a can. Popping the lid, he poured the drink into a glass. “Here.”

She accepted it, shivering slightly as his fingers brushed against hers. She took a sip. “Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?”

“I’m sure. Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it all under control.”

Casting her eyes around the tidy room, she tried to get a feel for Tom. He liked restful colors – the room was decorated in earthy tones with touches of soft blue, and he didn’t like clutter. There was nothing personal in the room other than a simple black and white photo of him with Ruby. She glanced at the immaculate kitchen benchtops and narrowed her eyes. “Did you cook or did you get your mum to prepare something for us and you’re just reheating it?”

Tom chuckled. “I cooked. It’s something I enjoy doing.”

Why had she expected him to be a pizza and paper plate kind of guy? “Looks like you also clean up after yourself too.”

He shot her a lazy smile. “I
am
house-trained.”

The man got better and better.

Tom bustled around in the kitchen, checking the meat and putting vegetables into the steamer. He caught her staring. “You sure you won’t have at least one glass of wine?”

She checked her watch. “Okay, just one.”

Tom laughed. “You’ll have to drink more than one to take you over the limit.”

He went back to the fridge, poured her a glass of white wine from the already opened bottle and handed it to her. “Will you have one too?”

“Maybe later. I don’t tend to drink while I’m cooking or I get distracted. And I’m already distracted enough.”

She almost choked on her first sip of the wine. “Are you hinting that I might be the cause of your distraction?” she teased.

Their gazes locked. “Not hinting. Saying. Ever since I walked in the back door and saw you sitting at Mum’s kitchen table I’ve been distracted.”

Heat rushed through her.

Tom laid the wooden spoon on the bench and washed and dried his hands, not taking his eyes off her. He closed the gap between them. Gently lifting the glass from her fingers, he set it on the bench.

“I find the best way to fix a distraction is to deal with it,” he said, his voice husky, a cheeky smile playing across his mouth.

Her breath felt trapped, fluttering in the back of her throat like the wings of a bird caught in a cage. “And how do you like to deal with it?” she whispered.

Up close, his aftershave blended with the herbs like an aphrodisiac. Her lips parted. She had the strangest sense of
déjà vu
. He was going to kiss
her
this time. And she was ready.

“I deal with distraction by doing this.”

Strong arms pulled her closer and she found her face pressed against his chest. She inhaled his scent and sighed heavily. Warmth radiated from him, making her powerless to resist the magnetic physical pull between them.

She turned her face toward his and he slowly bent over her, moving his hands to cup her cheeks between his palms. Their mouths met in a soft, tender, hesitant kiss, before it deepened. The short stubble of his whiskers scratched her mouth but she didn’t care. She kissed him harder. He rubbed his thumb over the nape of her neck and up into her hair and she moaned with pleasure. Forget dinner, she was hungry for something else.

Daringly, she tugged roughly at his shirt, pulling until it came untucked from his jeans. Sliding her hands up his bare back, she traced the shape of the hard muscles that lay there. He shivered. Drawing in a ragged breath he closed his eyes and kissed her again. Her blood hammered through her veins and a whooshing sound filled her ears. Tears pricked her eyes.

Tom pulled back. “Emma? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He raised his hand and gently smoothed his thumb along her cheek. Her skin tingled at his touch. He searched her face, the depths of her eyes, and she was lost in two dark pools of concern.

She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes to stop the flow of happy tears and tried to smile. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just this – this.” She was unable to find the words.

“This?”

“Us. Together. It’s perfect. Dinner. The candles. All of it. I love it. Being with you and kissing you again takes me back to that night when we were teenagers.”