The Single Dad’s New-Year Bride

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The Single Dad’s New-Year Bride Page 2

by Amy Andrews


  Callum felt a tug in his chest, seeing their heads close together, watching his son smile up at the mysterious Hailey. Tom had been through so much in his six years the fact that he could still smile was a miracle. He remembered her protective arm around Tom earlier and felt oddly unsettled.

  He pushed the door fully open. ‘Here you are,’ he said, moving onto the balcony. ‘I’m sorry, I hope he’s not bothering you again.’ Callum drew level with Tom and put his arm around his son’s shoulders. It was his job to protect Tom. His job. He’d been doing it solo for six years.

  Hailey smiled at Tom’s father, the moonlight complementing the planes and angles of his face. Hailey, well used to having to look up at people, found he redefined the phrase to crane one’s neck—she felt like a dwarf beside him. His mouth drew her gaze. It would have looked perfectly at home on a statue—the lips full and perfectly formed.

  ‘No, we were just discussing the pros and cons of little brothers. Weren’t we, Tom?’

  Callum groaned and ruffled Tom’s hair. ‘Don’t encourage him, please.’

  ‘Hailey hasn’t got any brothers either, Daddy. But she’s got two sisters and a growed-up nephew called David and a baby niece called Birdie, and she’s gonna be an aunty again in the middle of the year.’

  Callum found himself wondering why she didn’t have a couple of kids of her own. The image of her hand reaching for Tom’s revisited him. Surely a woman this gorgeous was well and truly spoken for? He noticed the absence of rings on her fingers. ‘Birdie?’

  ‘Bridie.’ Hailey corrected Tom’s error with a laugh.

  ‘Ah. Tom still had problems with his pronunciation.’

  ‘I noticed.’ Hailey smiled. ‘That’s what I like about him the best,’ she said, winking at Tom, and was rewarded with a giggle.

  They were interrupted by the ballroom erupting into a raucous countdown. ‘Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…’

  ‘Is it nearly midnight o’clock, Daddy?’ Tom asked.

  Callum chuckled. ‘Nearly.’

  ‘Fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty…’

  ‘You’d better get back in there,’ Callum said, looking down into her face. The moonlight emphasised the cute spray of freckles across her nose, illuminating each and every one. ‘Your partner is probably looking for you.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Hailey shook her head. ‘I’m here by myself.’ What the…? Why had she told him that?

  ‘Forty-two, forty-one, forty…’

  Interesting. ‘Here, matey, I got you one of these,’ Callum said, handing a party blower to a suddenly excited Tom, who was hopping from one foot to the other as the crowd continued to count down. ‘When everyone shouts “Happy New Year”, we’ll blow them together, OK?’

  ‘But what about Hailey, Daddy? She needs one too.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Hailey shook her head, realising belatedly they probably didn’t want an interloper. ‘It’s fine. I’ll leave you guys to bring in the new year with father-son whistleblowing.’

  ‘Thirty-seven, thirty-six, thirty-five…’

  ‘No. Don’t go, Hailey, wait. We have more at the table. I’ll get you one,’ Tom said, leaping down from the chair and racing back inside before Hailey could stop him.

  She watched him go, the plea in his high boyish voice clawing at her gut and freezing the self-preservation streak that had urged her to leave. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to be getting involved like this any more—particularly with strangers.

  Still, she didn’t want to go inside. She told herself it was because of all the midnight merriment that was about to erupt. It was easier than thinking it was about him. The man she was now alone with. The stranger with heat in his eyes.

  ‘Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…’

  Hailey glanced at him. He was looking down at her, his grey-eyed gaze compelling. Somewhere inside her head she knew she should get the hell off this balcony and leave this man with his motherless little boy and their story well alone. She didn’t know what it was and she didn’t want to. But she found herself mesmerised by his eyes. She could hear the unsteadiness of her breath.

  ‘Ten, nine, eight…’

  Her pulse pounded through her head. This was crazy, this unwanted, almost electric attraction. It couldn’t be happening. And yet it was. How could a complete stranger be so utterly fascinating?

  ‘Three, two, one. Happy New Year!’

  The ballroom erupted on a surge of cheers, breaking their intense connection. Hailey dragged her eyes away; her gaze, coming to rest on the mass of noonan beans, as Tom would call them, visible through the French doors. There was much hugging and kissing as ‘Auld Lang Syne’ was played.

  She envied them their carefree revelry. She felt like she’d aged a couple of decades this last eighteen months, her previous flibbertigibbet existence blown to the four winds. And now this. A totally unexpected reaction to a perfect stranger. Even now, desperately concentrating on the crowd through the doors, she could feel his scrutiny. The heat emanating from his tall, tuxedo’d frame.

  Hailey slowly became aware of the intimacy of some of the clinches. The couple closest to them hadn’t come up for air since the countdown had hit zero and she looked away, embarrassed to be staring at their uninhibited display.

  Callum coughed, also uncomfortable to be witnessing the couple’s unbridled passion. ‘Maybe they should get a room?’

  Hailey looked up at him to agree and then wished she hadn’t. He truly took her breath away. She stared at him again, helpless not to.

  Callum sucked in a breath. The moonlight bathed her face, danced in her hair, washed over her bare neck and shoulders, throwing her cleavage into shadow and making it infinitely more mysterious, infinitely more fascinating.

  ‘Happy New Year, Hailey.’ His voice was husky and he mentally cursed at how tremulous it sounded.

  ‘Happy New Year…’

  She realised she didn’t know his name. She thought about asking him but his gaze was on her mouth and her brain seemed more interested in that. And, anyway, not knowing his name gave her a distance from him she desperately needed.

  Callum stared at her lips, plump and moist in the moonlight. He couldn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone this badly in a very long time. He reached for her, placing his hand on her waist just where it flared into her hip and then leaned down, easing slowly towards her. Her eyelids had fluttered closed and he stopped just shy of her mouth as one lonely but very loud brain cell fought for control.

  If he kissed her mouth, could he stop? It had been a long time and he already felt inexplicably, strangely drawn to this woman. He hadn’t come here looking for this. And he certainly didn’t need it. Tom was probably on his way back to them right now. He closed his eyes, changing direction subtly and dropped a soft kiss just beside her mouth.

  It lingered. He didn’t mean it to but it did anyway, taking on a life of its own, ignoring all sense. He pulled away, dazed by how something so chaste could be having such an effect on his body.

  Hailey raised her hand to the spot where his mouth had seared her skin. She blinked, staring up at him for a long moment. His lips looked like they’d been carved by Michelangelo. She looked away, her gaze falling on the young couple closest to the French doors, still attached at the lips.

  Hailey dropped her hand, suddenly tantalised by the idea of a full-on kiss with Tom’s father. If a peck on the cheek could send her into such a spin, what havoc would the touch of his lips on hers create?

  The doors were pushed open and Tom came bursting through them. ‘I found one!’

  They both stared at Tom, who was waving a party blower in front of them. Neither of them said a thing for a few seconds. Callum recovered first, taking a step back, his hand falling away from her waist.

  Callum held out his arms and Tom ran into them gleefully. He swung him up high in the air. ‘Happy New Year, Tommy.’

  Tom giggled, hanging on tightly to his father’s neck. ‘Happy New Year, Daddy.’

  Hailey laughed
at them, an automatic reaction as her sluggish brain grappled with the surge of lust that had hijacked her body.

  ‘This is for you, Hailey,’ Tom said, handing her the whistle.

  Hailey took it automatically. And joined in as Tom and his father blew their whistles at each other. Tom took great delight in hitting his father in the nose as the blower unravelled. Callum threw back his head and yelled, ‘Happy New Year’ at the moon, and Tom laughed, clinging to his father’s neck, blowing his whistle at the stars.

  Their merriment brought Hailey slowly out of her daze and she finally got into the spirit of the occasion, giving in to her inner child and also yelling at the heavens. Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched father and son dancing around the balcony. They were obviously very close and she felt the dormant bruise deep inside ache as if someone had prodded it.

  Callum pulled up beside her, giving her a wink because kissing her again was out of the question. ‘OK, Tom, time to go, it’s way past your bedtime.’

  ‘Oh, but, Dad, we’re having so much fun,’ Tom pleaded, blowing his whistle again for good measure.

  ‘No “oh, buts”, Callum growled playfully. ‘I let you stay up to see in the new year because I promised…’He faltered as a memory of Tom last New Year’s Eve, desperately ill in hospital, sent an itch up his spine. He cleared his throat. ‘But now its bedtime for you. Say goodbye and thank you to Hailey for putting up with us.’

  ‘Thanks Hailey. It was so-o-o much fun.’

  ‘Yes, it was.’ Hailey laughed and held out her hand. ‘It was very nice meeting you.’

  Tom shook it solemnly and Hailey smiled as he gave a very big yawn for a little boy. He snuggled his head into his father’s chest and Hailey found herself wishing she could too. ‘’Night, sleepyhead.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Callum said to Hailey in a low voice. ‘You were great with him.’

  She shrugged casually as her pulse pounded through her head. ‘He’s a great kid.’

  Callum looked down at his son’s head, covered in sandy hair. ‘Yes. He is.’ He smiled at her again, before turning away from temptation and taking his leave.

  Hailey stared at the French doors for a long while after they’d gone feeling curiously deflated. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on her cheek, the pull of her attraction to him. She turned away, facing the view, forcing herself to forget him. Forget the kiss.

  But she couldn’t deny how wonderful it felt as she stared blindly at the moon-kissed gardens below. Wonderful also to have a reprieve from the darker thoughts that had dogged her earlier. She’d tried really hard since her return not to indulge in self-pity. To be her usual, upbeat self. Her time on the balcony with Tom’s father had certainly wiped out all thoughts of anything else.

  It was rather freeing and she began to believe that there was going to be a time when what had happened in London would be completely behind her.

  Her hand gripped the railing hard. Bad idea, Hails. Very, very bad idea.

  She would not try to erase the memory of one man and his son by replacing them with another.

  No matter how well the man could kiss.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘SO?’

  ‘So what?’ Hailey fobbed off her sister.

  ‘You disappeared out onto the balcony the other night. Did you find someone to bring in the new year with?’ Rilla repeated with an exaggerated slowness.

  ‘I’m really very busy, Ril,’ Hailey said, avoiding the question again. She indicated the pile of charts she was working on. ‘See these? See that sign?’ She pointed to the sign on the wall near the light switch, ‘It says Ward 2B. This is a hospital, remember.’

  ‘So you did meet someone.’ Rilla nodded sagely as she bit into her apple.

  Hailey sighed in exasperation and threw down her pen. ‘Isn’t it busy down in Emergency? Don’t you have a bus crash or something to be getting back to?’

  ‘I’m on my break. Anyway, we’re in a lull. They know I’m up here, visiting you, if they need me.’

  Hailey knew she wasn’t going to shake her sister. ‘You know, just because you and Luca finally got your act together, it doesn’t mean the rest of the world is looking for love.’

  Rilla laughed. ‘Hah! I knew it! What’s his name?’

  Hailey wished she could share that particular piece of information with her sister but she hadn’t found out her mystery kisser’s name. Deliberately. She sighed, knowing capitulation was easier than trying to wrestle the bone from her sister. ‘Tom’s father?’ she offered dubiously.

  Rilla frowned. ‘Tom? The kid with the truck?’ She thought a bit more. ‘Ah,’ she said, realisation dawning, ‘the military-looking dude? Mr Tuxedo?’

  Hailey smiled at Rilla’s nickname. Hadn’t she been enthralled by how well he wore a suit? She filled her sister in on her balcony tryst, heavy on the detail with Tom, more hazy about his father.

  ‘Oh, Hails. Do you think it’s wise to get involved with another motherless boy?’ Rilla asked gently.

  Hailey hadn’t told them much about what had happened in London but Rilla had known, they’d all known, that the sudden death of her sister’s young charge had been a devastating blow. One thing was for sure, Hailey was certainly a very different person from the excitable young gadabout she’d been before her travels.

  ‘I’m not involved,’ Hailey denied hotly, despite three nights’ worth of steamy dreams over a very non-steamy kiss. ‘I’m never likely to come across them again. I don’t even know who he is, for crying out loud.’

  ‘Yes, but he was at the hospital ball so he must at least work here.’

  Hailey shrugged. ‘If he does, he’s new. I’d never seen him before.’ Someone that good-looking would certainly have stood out or at least been worthy of comment on the hospital grapevine.

  ‘No, neither had I. Beth didn’t know him either. I’ll put some feelers out.’

  Hailey rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t do it on my account.’ As her sister had so aptly pointed out, the very last thing she wanted in her life was another little boy. Or his father. ‘How’s the bump going?’ she asked Rilla, deftly changing the subject.

  They chatted for another fifteen minutes. Hailey listened half-heartedly to Rilla’s baby prattle, her mind wandering again to Saturday night.

  ‘I’ll see you later. I’ll ring if I find out anything about Mr Tuxedo.’ Rilla winked as she departed.

  ‘Great,’ Hailey said brightly. Just what she needed, Rilla in matchmaker mode.

  But her mind turned quickly to more pressing matters. This afternoon’s meet and greet with the new director of paediatric services at the Brisbane General was a pretty big deal. She steeled herself mentally. The last director had been in his sixties and around for ever, and a real honey to boot. It had been sad to see him go.

  Getting used to someone new was always a little fraught. Drastic changes to set practices often caused consternation and Hailey knew she wasn’t the only member of staff who was nervous. She crossed her fingers that the transition wouldn’t be too bumpy.

  Hailey answered the phone in the nurses’ station just before lunch. It was the lab with some renal function results and she dutifully wrote them down.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  ‘One moment,’ Hailey said, not bothering to look up from the piece of paper as she double-checked the numbers.

  ‘Thanks, George,’ she said, replacing the phone, then scribbled the patient details down. ‘Yes, sir, can I help you?’

  Hailey looked up expectantly, her greeting dying on her lips. Tom’s father stood before her. He wore a pale lemon business shirt and a funky tie with polka-dot pigs emblazoned on it. He had a hospital ID with a smiley face sticker stuck over his face and a stethoscope slung around his neck.

  ‘Tom’s father,’ she said absently.

  Callum would have laughed had he not also been a little stunned from this development. Hailey was a nurse? Who worked on the kids’ ward? Hailey, who had been on his mind a little too freq
uently the last few days. Hailey, who Tom had constantly chatted about—nothing but Hailey this and Hailey that since the ball.

  She was in the standard uniform of plain navy pants and white shirt with the Brisbane General logo. Her hair was swept back into a no-nonsense ponytail complete with those familiar escaping tendrils brushing her neck.

  ‘Callum. Callum Craig,’ he supplied, holding out his hand, realising that he hadn’t introduced himself the other night.

  She took his firm warm hand in a daze and was instantly transported back to the moment he’d kissed her, his lips burning a brand into her cheek, his hand on her hip. She searched through the fog of lust in her head—where had she heard that name before?

  ‘Is everything all right? Tom OK?’ She frowned. ‘Oh, God, he’s not sick is he?’

  No. Not any more. ‘He’s fine. I’m just a little early for my appointment, I guess.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Hailey said, not seeing at all. ‘Were you here to see Yvonne?’ His name was familiar but her brain cells still weren’t working properly. Perhaps the NUM had mentioned his visit to her earlier?

  ‘Partly, yes. I came to meet everyone and have a poke around.’

  Hailey felt her pulse pick up and start to thrum through the veins in her head. ‘Meet everyone?’ she practically squeaked, suddenly realising why his name was so familiar.

  ‘Yes. I’m the new director. Looks like we’re going to be working together.’

  Hailey nodded dumbly. This was Dr Callum Craig? The stranger who had kissed her on a balcony on New Year’s Eve?

  Oh, hell! So much for never seeing him again. The man was practically her boss!

  Hailey spent the next two days avoiding him. When he was on the ward, she made herself scarce. The panroom, not a particularly fascinating place to be at the best of times, was her number-one choice for rooms in which to hide. It was certainly an inspired one. She’d never met a doctor yet who was comfortable around a bedpan. It was the one room they avoided like the plague.

  She may not have known Callum Craig for very long but she’d known him long enough to know that she’d never had such an instantaneous reaction to a man. And there’d been plenty to make comparisons with. Her twenties had been strewn with brief, fun relationships. Light flirtations that hadn’t gone the distance. They’d burnt brightly with all the pop and sparkle of giddy newness but had fizzled out quickly. Rilla and Beth had teased her that she’d changed her boyfriends as frequently as her underwear.

 

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