She stifled a sigh of relief and walked out of the room. ‘I’ll head home,’ she said quickly, wanting to get away before he said or did anything that might undermine her resolve, because the bed was much too close and far too inviting and she had a feeling they were standing on the edge of a precipice.
‘Fizz first,’ he said, heading for the kitchen. ‘Well, unless you’re driving?’
‘No, I walked,’ she said, unable to lie about it because he’d realise as soon as she opened the front door that there wasn’t a car there apart from his.
She heard the soft pop of the cork, the fizzing of the glasses being filled, and he handed her one.
‘Here.’
‘Thank you.’ She took it, vowing to go the moment it was finished, and clinked it gently on his. ‘Here’s to your new house—well, for now, at least. Maybe here’s to a proper roof over your head and your own things around you.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ He smiled and clinked back. ‘And here’s to you, for all you’ve done to help me in the last few weeks, not least with the dog.’
‘Where is she, by the way?’ she asked, picking up a scuffing sound. They found her in the pantry, chasing a paper plate around the floor with her tongue. The paper plate that had held the cake.
‘Tatty!’ he yelled, and she scooted out of the pantry looking guilty and a teeny bit smug.
‘Oh, Ryan, that’s my fault, I left it on the side! Will it hurt her?’
He shook his head. ‘No. It wasn’t a fruit cake or a chocolate cake. Lemon drizzle should be fine—well, fine for her, not so fine for me.’ He sighed. ‘I was looking forward to the rest of that.’
‘When did you feed her? Because you haven’t done it since I got here, I don’t think.’
A look of guilty horror crossed his face, and he smacked his forehead with his palm. ‘Lunchtime! Tatty, come here, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Are you a hungry girl?’
‘That’s so not your dog,’ she said drily, and drained her glass, but she was trying not to laugh and the wine dribbled round the side of her mouth and down her front, and he put the bowl on the floor and walked back to her with a tissue in his hand.
‘That’ll teach you to laugh at me,’ he said, his lips twitching, and he blotted her gently dry, lingering a little too long on the corner of her mouth.
She put the glass down, and he lowered the tissue and stared down into her eyes, his lips parting slightly, his eyes searching hers and finding—what?
She looked away hastily, slipping out from between him and the worktop and heading for the door while she still could.
‘It’s time I went home,’ she said, her voice all over the place, and he followed her to the door.
‘I’ll bring Tatty and come with you, she could do with a little walk before bed,’ he said, trashing her escape plan. It only took five minutes to walk her home, maybe a little more with Tatty sniffing every blade of grass to check it out, but then they were there, and she slid her key into the lock and turned back to him.
‘Before you ask, I won’t come in,’ he said, and she nodded, trying not to look relieved because the air between them was still humming with whatever it was.
‘Good luck tomorrow. I hope your interview goes well.’
He held her eyes. ‘Are you sure you want me to go for it?’
Was she? She nodded, hoping he hadn’t noticed her hesitation, because it wasn’t really hesitation, she was just checking up on herself, making sure she could do this because after the sizzling tension between them this evening she really wasn’t sure, because she had no idea where it was taking them.
Although it wasn’t all about her, and they desperately needed another consultant...
‘Yes, I’m sure. Thanks for seeing me home, Ry.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he said softly, and cradled her face in his warm, gentle hands. ‘Thank you again. For everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
His lips brushed hers, just the lightest touch that lingered a moment, but fire scorched through her and she was ready to reach for him when he dropped his hands and turned away, and she let herself inside and closed the door, her legs suddenly like rubber.
Her fingers found her lips, pressing gently where his had touched hers, and she wanted to cry because his kiss had been so sweet, so tender, so unlike the raging passion they’d felt before two and a half years ago, or the kiss on the night he’d found Tatty, two weeks ago. So unlike the feelings she’d had when his hand had brushed her breast earlier today.
It had hardly been a kiss at all, and yet, as fleeting as it had been, she could still feel the rivers of fire flickering through her veins and reaching every part of her, and she’d been so close to inviting him in.
Thank goodness for Tatty, because he couldn’t have stayed anyway and it might have been embarrassing.
She watched him walking away down the road in the dusk, Tatty at his side looking up at him devotedly, and she found herself smiling. Crazy man. He was deluding himself if he thought he’d rehome her.
She waited until they were out of sight, then turned and looked at the little silver heart sitting on its shelf. The heart that bound them together, no matter what else the future held, no matter where life took them.
She picked it up, cradling it in her hand, the dog forgotten.
‘Your daddy’s got an interview tomorrow,’ she told Grace softly. ‘He might be going to live near us permanently. I wonder how that will feel?’
She had no idea. No idea at all, of how she’d feel or what the implications might be, and she felt horribly unsettled and confused.
Shaking her head, she pressed a goodnight kiss to the little heart, picked up a glass of water from the kitchen and headed upstairs for an early night, but sleep was a long time coming and she woke to the lingering fragments of a weird, disturbing dream that didn’t make any sense but left her feeling even more unsettled.
She looked at the clock. It was only ten to six, and she was on a late so technically she could be having a lie-in, but she was wide awake after her run of nights and she felt suddenly unaccountably nervous for Ryan.
And for herself?
Because of course what happened today had massive implications for her, as well as him.
Would he get the job?
Did she even really want him to?
Yes—but what if he didn’t get it? What if the other candidate was better after all? Or if there was another one who’d applied out of nowhere?
He’d leave if he didn’t get it, but would that be the end for them? Probably. Let’s face it, he’d made no attempt to keep in touch while he was with the aid organisation, so why would now be any different?
He had said he’d tried to phone her, and as she’d changed her number she couldn’t blame him for that, although if he’d really wanted to he could have found her. Only he said he’d tried to airbrush her out of his life because he’d found it all too hard to deal with, so why would he have tried? And if he didn’t get the job, he might well go back to MFA and do a better job with the airbrushing this time.
But if he got the job, then what? What would it mean for them as a couple? If they even were a couple...
They certainly weren’t at the moment, and they’d never talked about that, never considered it, never mentioned the future. Was the future even in his mind, or was he simply looking for a job, loved the town and was happy to have her there as a friend?
Ugh. That word again, which covered everything from a slight acquaintance to—them? Maybe, as things stood. But would that be enough for her? She had a horrible feeling after yesterday that it wouldn’t be, but on the other hand she wasn’t sure what else there might be on offer apart from an affair, and she knew she didn’t want that, or at least not in isolation, because her heart simply couldn’t remain that detached.
It would need to be more than that, but ho
w much more?
They hadn’t lived together before, but maybe he would want them to this time, and where would that lead? If they fell in love, then maybe to marriage?
A family?
Her heart thumped against her ribs. Would he ask that of her? He’d said over and over again that he didn’t want children, and he and Katie had split up because she’d tried to get pregnant without discussing it with him when she knew he was going away with MFA, possibly for several years.
But what if he’d changed his mind? What if it was only that he hadn’t wanted to be an absent father? He’d said it was time for him to settle down now, to go back to the future. Did he mean with her, and if so, did he mean as a family, and if so, could she do it?
Only if he loved her, but she had no idea whether he did or not, except as a friend. She already knew she loved him, but enough for that?
Did she even dare to consider another pregnancy? Her body yearned for a child, her arms ached to cradle a baby, but she was so scared. Would she be brave enough to try again?
Her heart thumped, even the thought making her mouth go dry.
Don’t go there. It’s all theoretical—and anyway, it might never happen. He probably isn’t even thinking about it.
And even if he was, there were so many unknowns. His interview, the job, their future together—only time would tell how their relationship would pan out, but she’d never been patient.
One step at a time. Get the interview over, see if he gets a job offer, go from there.
She threw back the covers, pulled on her clothes and went downstairs, made a cup of tea and took it outside, perching on the edge of the damp bench and staring at the garden in dismay.
It was ages since she’d done anything out here; she’d been so busy helping Ryan with Tatty or the house or both, and in that time spring had definitely sprung. Oh, well. She had all morning, and as soon as it was a civilised hour she’d cut the lawn, but until then she could do some weeding and tidy up around the edges and refill the bird feeders.
Anything rather than sit there with her nerves strung so tight she thought they’d snap...
* * *
‘How did it go?’
Ryan gave a soft huff of laughter and tugged off his tie before it strangled him. ‘I have no idea, Beth. OK, I suppose. I answered all the questions, but it was pretty tough. James didn’t cut me any slack, but that was fine, I didn’t expect him to, and he wasn’t alone. The others were just as thorough.’
‘What kind of questions?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, medical stuff and personnel management, mentoring, being a team player, that kind of thing, but also loads of ethical scenarios. What do you do if someone comes in in a coma and the person with them isn’t down as their next of kin but is obviously very involved with them? The rights of children, the absence of a DNAR statement and the relatives saying don’t resuscitate, they don’t want it—all the usual stuff which gets handed up the food chain to the most senior person in the department at the time. How do you deal with staff members who’ve broken the rules? Do you cover your ass or do the right thing kind of questions.’
She bit her lip and he could see laughter sparkling in her eyes. ‘I’m guessing you’re not a cover your ass kind of person,’ she said drily.
He chuckled. ‘No. I’m not. So it might have lost me the job because I’d bet my life the other guy is.’
‘Did you meet him?’
‘Yes, but he had to leave suddenly. Cited family reasons, apparently, so they’ve postponed his interview for a week and he’s coming back then.’
‘So what was he like?’
He laughed again, wondering how to phrase it. ‘Let’s just say he seemed pretty confident.’
‘Arrogant, then.’
He felt his lips twitch, and Beth chuckled. ‘Oh, dear. That won’t have gone down well with James. He’s got no time for arrogance.’
‘Ah, but, if he’s good, if he comes over better than me in the interview—he’s got a lot of experience, Beth, he’s been a consultant for several years, and I’m pretty sure he thought they were only interviewing me because I was on site and they didn’t have to pay travel expenses. He asked me where I’d been working, so I told him, and he then implied I’d been out of it for a while, which in a way I have, but not in a trauma sense. I’m sure I’ve covered far more in the last two years than he has. I don’t think he had the slightest idea of how much I had to deal with. One minute you’re fighting to contain an outbreak of Ebola, the next minute you’re in a war zone and being shot at, then it’s an earthquake and you’re dragging people out of rubble during the aftershocks—it’s crazy, and you pack more into every day than you ever would working here, busy though it is. And he wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds, I don’t think. I could be wrong.’
‘I doubt it. It takes a special kind of person, I would imagine. I don’t know how you did it.’
He huffed softly, seeing things he’d rather forget. Things that haunted his sleep. ‘I didn’t, always. I lost it a few times. Kids, mostly. That’s what gets to you. The kids. You never forget their faces.’
‘You never talk about it.’
‘No. No, I don’t.’
‘More airbrushing?’ she asked quietly, and he tried to smile.
‘Probably.’ He dragged in a breath and put the memories away. ‘So, anyway, I’ve got to wait at least another week before I have the answer, so it’s back to the day job for now. Want to fill me in?’
Her eyes were gentle, as if she could see what he could see, but her voice was quiet and steady and matter-of-fact, and he was grateful for that.
‘The usual mayhem, I gather, not made better by you and James being out all morning, I don’t suppose. I don’t really know, I haven’t been here long, I’m on a late today. I walked Tatty before I came in, by the way, and because one of Annie’s boys isn’t feeling well, I took Molly, too.’
‘Oh, thanks. I was worrying about that. Amongst other things.’
‘I thought you might be. I told Reg I’d walked her and fed her, but he’s going to pop in a bit later anyway. I think he’s enjoying it. Breaks up the day for him. I think he’s been lonely since his wife died last year.’
He felt a pang of guilt for not knowing that. ‘I didn’t realise it was so recent, but I expect you’re right, he will be lonely. What are you doing later?’
‘What, like nine o’clock tonight later?’ she said with a laugh. ‘Nothing.’
‘Good. Come round and I’ll cook you dinner and we can celebrate me surviving my interview if nothing else. So what should I do now? Where do they need me?’
‘I don’t know. Sam’s back, he’s in Resus and he could probably do with a hand, he’s only got Livvy and they’re busy.’
‘OK. I’ll go and change. Tell them I’m on my way.’
* * *
She didn’t get to his house until well after nine, and she couldn’t get an answer, which was odd.
His car was there, but it was getting dark and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t still be out with Tatty, so she let herself in and called his name, but he didn’t answer and there was no sign of the dog and no lights on. Maybe they were still out?
She could smell something delicious cooking, though, so she went and investigated and found a fragrant casserole bubbling away a little too fast. She turned it down, stirred it and put the lid back on, and then realised the dining room doors were open to the garden, so she went out, her footsteps all but silent.
He was sitting on the steps, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging, and she knew instantly that something was wrong.
‘Ryan?’
He looked up, and even in the dusk she could see he looked upset, and her heart stalled.
‘Ry, what is it? What’s happened? Where’s Tatty?’
‘Gone,’ he said, his voice uneven, and she
felt sick. ‘The rescue centre rang. They had space in a foster home. I’ve just handed her over. The carer’s going to keep her until she’s had the pups, and then they’ll rehome them all. They said they’d easily find her a new family, she’s got such a lovely nature—’
His voice cracked, and she went over to him, sat down beside him and put her arms round him. ‘Oh, Ry, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her.’
‘I didn’t love her,’ he said angrily, his body stiff and resistant. ‘She was a liability, and the last thing I needed! I’m well rid of her.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do—and I don’t want to talk about it.’ He straightened up and shrugged out of her arms. ‘I cooked a tagine.’
‘I saw. I turned it down, it was starting to catch on the bottom of the pan.’
He groaned and met her eyes for the first time. ‘Is it all right?’
‘I think so. It’s certainly cooked. It smells lovely.’
‘Good. Let’s go and eat it.’
He got to his feet and headed inside, but it was only when they got into the house she realised his eyes were red rimmed.
Poor Ry. Such a kind heart, and so much love to give...
‘Can I do anything?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’ve just got to make some couscous. There’s some of that fizz left. I recorked it—I found a gadget in my kitchen stuff. You could pour us some.’
‘I’ve got the car here.’
‘You can have one glass. Or you could stay.’
Their eyes clashed and held, and she looked away, her heart pounding. Stay, as in stay with him? Sleep with him? Make love, like they had before? What, to distract him from losing Tatty? She’d need a better reason than that.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said, her voice a little uneven, and he laughed, a sad, bitter, broken laugh that wrenched her heart.
‘No, you’re right. Pour the wine, Beth. I can always walk you home again.’
* * *
From Heartache to Forever Page 8
