Thin Girls Don't Eat Cake

by Lindy Dale

  "Are you sure?" The girl had wrapped her arms around his neck and was clinging to his naked chest. "I don't want to put you out."

  Cole smiled down at her. She was quite a delight.

  "No problem. If it gets me out of this torture chamber, I'd carry you to Antarctica."

  Well, maybe not Antarctica. She weighed a tonne. Which was odd because she don’t look heavy in the least. She had lovely curves.

  Out at his car, Cole deposited the girl next to the door while he unlocked it. "Are you right to get in by yourself?"

  "Yes, thank you. You know, it's very kind of you to give me a lift. Beth would've done it."

  "I know, but I don't think Beth could lift you." Shit. "Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded."

  "Its okay. It's not the first time I’ve been called fat."

  Cole wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. "You're not fat. Curves are good. Sexy, if you must know. Men like girls with a bit of meat on their bones."

  The girl stared at him. He could see a glimmer of something like mirth in her eyes.

  "I’m digging myself deeper, aren't I?"

  "It might be wise to stop now."

  Cole swung the door open and watched as she tossed her things onto the floor of the car, then held on to the roof and door, doing a little jump to get herself into the four wheel drive. She jiggled with the seatbelt and sat looking at him, her wide eyes blinking slowly. A stray hair had escaped from her ponytail and was falling across her face. He watched as she pushed it back, wishing his hand had done it, wishing his fingers were caressing the creamy skin along the side of her neck, his lips following their course.

  God, he needed to get a grip. It was pathetic to be a slave to such thoughts when he’d only just met her. But there was something about her, something insanely attractive, something that made him want to hold her and keep her safe. Not that that was getting them anywhere closer to the hospital. Dismissing the idea, he dashed around to the other side of the car and got in.

  "Where to?"

  "Hospital, please, driver," the girl joked. "I'm Olivia by the way. Olivia Merrifield."

  "Cole Anderson at your service."

  "Nice to meet you Cole."

  Chapter 8

  The hospital was cloaked in darkness by the time Cole drove into the car park. Not surprising. In a small town like Merrifield hospital services were not always needed. They’d be lucky if a doctor was even on call. The busiest time of the year was usually the day of the annual grudge match between the Merrifield Footy Club and neighbouring town, Hooper’s Crossing. Every nurse in town was rostered on those days. Even Mrs Tanner came out of retirement.

  After pulling the car to a stop, Cole switched off the ignition and walked around to the passenger side. Olivia already had the door open and was attempting, quite gingerly, to get out of the car. Cole wasn’t surprised she was going it alone, despite the fact that her foot was the size of a watermelon. In the half an hour since he’d met her, he’d gotten the impression she was an independent sort of girl. She liked to do things herself. Which was great, if you weren’t a cripple. In that case, a little help didn’t go astray.

  With a muffled grunt, Olivia hoisted herself out of the car, her uninjured leg taking the weight.

  “You’re not carrying me again,” she told him. “I’d never live it down. There’re people who work in there that have known me since I was born.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure one of them delivered me.”

  “I meant are you sure you don’t want me to carry you? It’s no hassle.”

  Olivia reddened. “Positive.” She shuffled out of the way of the car door, slamming it shut with such force the car shook. She may not have been fit but she was obviously strong.

  “See? Piece of cake.”

  “As long as I don’t mind a few displaced car parts. Please let me help.”

  “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

  From the wincing Olivia was doing, Cole could see it was anything but. She could barely stand, let alone get herself into the hospital. Currently, she was wobbling precariously and gripping the bonnet of the car for safety. She was also doing a fairly bad job of masking what was obvious pain.

  Deciding it was pointless to argue — he’d learnt many years ago that arguing with a stubborn woman was a waste of time — Cole took her hand, placing it on his shoulder to offer stability. In his experience, women could be rather obstinate when trying to prove they were as strong as men. Which was crazy. Every woman he knew had the pain threshold of twenty men.

  “Let’s go then.” He pointed the remote over his shoulder, locking the car.

  They began a slow hop-limp up the path towards the hospital doors, Olivia’s odd sort of walk making it very difficult to keep her upright. Once or twice she almost toppled into the hydrangeas taking him with her. Cole didn’t want a repeat of that. It was what had got them into this trouble in the first place.

  “Thanks again for helping me,” she said. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I know but I wanted to. I feel responsible, seeing as how it was me that fell on you.”

  “I told you it’s not your fault. I’m the dopiest person on the planet. My head is always off somewhere it shouldn’t be.”

  They fell silent for a minute.

  “Sorry I ruined your shirt, Cole.”

  “It was on its last legs anyway.”

  “I don’t think I can mend it but I hope you’ll let me buy you another one.”

  Cole looked down at the t-shirt that was now something of a jacket. Or a cardigan. He’d had it since he had gone to an ACDC concert when he was seventeen. He loved that shirt. The first time he’d had sex with Lisa Bonner — the high school hottie — he’d been wearing that shirt. The first time he’d smoked a joint, he’d had it on. He’d been wearing it the day they’d bought Phoebe home after she was born too. It was a shirt of memories. There was no way it could ever be replaced. Maybe he could get a seamstress to fix it and have it framed?

  “You don’t need to do that,” he replied. “It’s only a shirt.”

  “Or a jacket, depending on how you look at it.” Olivia giggled, her glance falling to his bare chest. “You could start a new fashion.”

  “I don’t think it’d take off.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Her eyes twinkled naughtily in the half-light. It made him feel rather vulnerable, as if he was being assessed. It also turned him on, damn her. There seemed to be a lot of things about Olivia that were turning him on.

  “So, you’re new to town?” Olivia asked. “I thought I knew pretty much everyone in Merrifield, but I’ve never seen you before. Though your face does look remarkably familiar. I’m good with faces. Have we met before?”

  Hopefully, she hadn’t seen that bloody ad.

  “I moved here a month or so back.”

  “From Perth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I used to live in Perth. Gosh, you look familiar.”

  Cole tensed a little, praying silently that the dark would be his ally.

  “Where do you live now?” Olivia continued.

  “Oak Hill.”

  She gave a dreamy sigh. “You bought it? I absolutely adore that house. I’ve been secretly coveting it since I used to go there as a little girl. My friend Alice and I used to play in the secret room at the top of the stairs. My grandma was friends with the lady that owned it, Mrs Caldwell. I told her I was going to live in that house when I grew up.”

  Cole was intrigued. “There’s a secret room?”

  “It’s hidden in the panelling, on the right of the landing, if I remember correctly. The man who built the house had it as a panic room, I think. There was a lot of trouble with aboriginal groups back in the old days. I guess they weren’t too happy about having their land invaded. I know I wouldn’t be. Apparently, some of them were fairly handy with a spear, which is why there are little holes bored through the wall near the front door. The orig
inal owners used to poke a gun through them and fire. The lady of the house even chased a couple of tribesmen down the gravel drive with a rake, once, so the story goes. She was fearsome.”

  “I can’t believe the real estate guy didn’t tell me about it.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about now. Merrifield’s the safest town in Australia. I don’t think anyone owns front door keys. And the few indigenous people in town are very well respected and loved.”

  “I meant the secret room.”

  “Oh.” Despite her obvious pain — or was it embarrassment at showing her ditsy side twice in one conversation — Olivia gave him a broad smile. A lovely smile. “He probably didn’t know. It wasn’t called a secret room for nothing.”

  “So what’s this secret room like?”

  “It used to be dark wood panelled with two large casement windows. There was a big daybed and a bookcase with the most ancient books in it and a dollhouse. It was enormous. I remember that very clearly. I used to dream of getting lost in there, like it was my own personal playroom where nobody could find me and make me do homework. I used to love making up games with the porcelain figures and the teddies.”

  She also appeared to love to talk. Outside of Adelaide, that was the longest, most honest sounding speech a woman had ever given in front of Cole. Usually they told him what they thought he wanted to hear. Or how hot he was.

  “So is your family something to do with the town?”

  “My great-great-great grandfather, Elias Merrifield, was one of the first settlers. It’s named after him.”

  “Bit of an honour.”

  “Bit of an annoyance, you mean. I can’t scratch my bottom without the entire town knowing.”

  Cole knew exactly how that felt.

  They reached the three steps to the front door. Olivia took hold of the rail and jumped up the first.

  “Need a hand?” Cole enquired. “We could take the ramp if it’s easier.”

  “I’m cool.”

  Which was obviously not the case, for as she attempted to hop to the first step, she missed it entirely and came lurching rather ingloriously in Cole’s direction, her entire torso landing firmly against his still exposed chest.

  Twice in one night, he thought, as his arms instinctively went around her waist to avert the fall. Some might call that lucky.

  They stilled for a moment, frozen against each other. Cole could feel Olivia’s heart thudding out of control in her chest or was it his? Her hands, braced against him, were suddenly searingly hot and as he shifted his hold pulling her a little closer, an overwhelming surge of desire engulfed him. God, he wanted to kiss her.

  Olivia gazed up into his eyes. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  “Seems I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  “Seems that way.”

  Pulling away, she attempted the step again with the same outcome; only this time she added a muttered “shit” to the mix.

  Cole shook his head. This was ridiculous. It’d be midnight by the time they got in the door if he didn’t do something. Bending, he scooped her into his arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do and began walking towards the double doors of the hospital.

  Olivia gave a surprised gasp but didn’t ask him to put her down. She did, however, nestle into his chest and twine her arms around his neck as she smiled that smile again. That very enticing smile.

  Cole hip and shouldered the door open. “Where to now?”

  “There’s an office around that corner. To the left.” She indicated the way with her head.

  A few turns left and right and with his charge safely deposited on an examination bed, Cole sat himself down in a chair opposite. Suddenly self-conscious he attempted to cover his naked chest by pulling the sides of the t-shirt around him, which had absolutely no effect because every time he moved it flapped open again. He could have tucked it into his track pants, he supposed, but he already looked like a fool. He didn’t want to make himself look any worse. Surreptitiously, he tied the shirt in a knot at the bottom securing the ends, at least.

  A voice came from the examination bed. “I wouldn’t if I were you. You look like Peter Allen on his way to Rio.”

  Damn.

  “Unless that’s the look you were going for. In which case, I have a lovely set of maracas I could lend you to complete the ensemble.”

  Cole looked over to the bed where Olivia sat smirking and swiftly untied the shirt. She was a tease. And funnily enough he was finding he liked it. A girl with spirit was a good thing, a very good thing. “I might need some white trousers to make it authentic.”

  “And a lei.”

  “I guess so. It has been a while.”

  “I was talking about the garland type, not the sex type,” she retorted, her eyes directly on his.

  “Sorry, Freudian slip.”

  “Hmm.”

  Olivia shuffled on the examination bed. She’d gone quiet, whether that was because she had nothing more to say or because she was in pain, Cole wasn’t sure, but judging by the pallor of her skin, he was thinking the latter. Allowing her to rest, he looked around the room — the pea green curtain, the murals on the wall designed to put children at ease. This room was like the myriad of hospitals he’d been in when Phoebe was ill. If truth were told, it was unsettling. Memories — and not good ones — were filling his head. He had no idea why he was even there. He should go home. Hadn’t Olivia stressed repeatedly she could call her mother to collect her or her friend? He didn’t need to wait. Yet, despite the fact that images of tubes and machines and tiny, thin girls in hospital gowns were assaulting his brain, he found had no inclination to move. His inclination was to sit with Olivia and get to know her a little better. To make sure she was safe. It was the least he could do after he’d practically crushed her. Right?

  Watching as she leant over the side of the bed, examining her ankle, Cole’s mind began to wander to the moment he’d felt her leaning against him. It had been a long time since he’d had an unknown woman in his arms and the softness had felt rather nice. Like a girl should feel. So many girls were like stick figures these days. Skin and bone, they were. Never eating a thing. Olivia, however, didn’t look like the kind who avoided carbs. She looked like a healthy, gorgeous woman.

  And those eyes. She’d stopped analysing the bruising to her ankle and was analysing him. The way she stared, her gaze unwavering, made sensations he hadn’t had for ages go racing into parts of his body he’d rather they didn’t. Well, not right now, anyway. That could be awkward.

  A doctor came into the room. He had a clipboard with some papers on it, which he consulted.

  “Olivia Merrifield. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Hey Sean. Long time, no see.”

  “What have you been doing to yourself?”

  Olivia’s eyes crinkled as she gazed up into the chiselled face of the doctor. Cole felt something like a stab of jealousy.

  “Silly Zumba accident.” She flicked her hand as if it were nothing.

  “You’ve no idea how many people I see after ‘silly Zumba accidents’. Dangerous pastime that.”

  “Since when do you do graveyard duty?” Olivia asked, changing the subject.

  “Dr Jones was feeling under the weather. I offered to take his shift. Have to prove my worth as the new boy.”

  “I don’t imagine you’ll have a great deal to do. You might forget your doctoring skills if you have to be here too many nights.”

  “It is quiet. But Mrs Tanner bought me a thermos and some homemade biscuits.”

  “That’d be her. She’s probably trying to set you up with Elise. Watch out or she’ll be inviting you to dinner now she knows your back in town and single. I’m assuming you’re still single?”

  Sean gave a chuckle. “And ready to mingle.”

  The doctor asked Olivia some questions about her medical history. Then, rubbing his hands together to warm them gently took hold of her foot and pressed here and the
re. He asked her to explain the pain and its exact location. “And this is your partner?” he questioned, indicating Cole.

  “Oh no, Cole’s a friend. Well, not a friend. We’ve only just met, like half an hour ago. I mean, we were standing next to each other in the Zumba class. He helped me. After he fell on top of me and I ripped his shirt to smithereens.”

  Make a guy feel bad why don’t you, Cole thought. He looked across to see Olivia’s eyes twinkling again. He wondered if that mischievous look was for his benefit or if she was directing it at the good-looking doctor.

  “I see.”

  The green curtain was swiftly swept across dividing Cole and Olivia and leaving him under no illusion as to his role in this affair. None.

  Behind the curtain, softly spoken words were exchanged and the odd high-pitched titter floated in his direction. A niggle of annoyance invaded Cole’s brain. Not that he had a right to be annoyed. Olivia was correct. They didn’t know each other. But hadn’t she felt the spark? He could have sworn she had.

  What the devil were they talking about in there, anyway? It didn’t sound like the doctor was doing too much doctoring. Cole cocked his head, leaning as far to the left as he could in order to see around the curtain or under the curtain or anything. Then…

  SMACK.

  The only thing he could see now were two pairs of metal feet from the chair he’d fallen from. Its upturned legs were so close to his left nostril he was almost impaled. Though he did have a spectacular view of a set of trolley wheels. And the doctor’s shoes on the other side of the curtain. Bit scruffy for a man in his job, if you asked him.

  “Is everything okay out there?”

  A head poked round the curtain.

  “Yeah. Fine. Slipped... That’s all.”

  Jesus, could this night be any more embarrassing?

  Half an hour, one trip to the x-ray room and a pair of crutches later, Olivia emerged from behind the curtain, her ankle strapped. Her face was an unusual mixture of forlorn and excited, though how one could achieve such an expression was beyond Cole.

  “Thanks Sean.”

  The doctor smiled. “Stay off it as much as possible.”