Critical Condition

by Nicki Edwards

  Liam followed, dragging her case across the gravel. When she turned to peek at him, he grinned and saw her blush. He opened her door for her and helped her climb up. She turned in her seat to peer behind her. No doubt she’d never seen the inside of an ambulance. He started the engine, the Mercedes roared to life and with a spin of tires on gravel, he took off.

  A few minutes later her stomach growled softly and she pressed her hand against her belly.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  Liar.

  “Have you had dinner?”

  “No, but I grabbed a sandwich at the airport in Sydney. I’m fine, thanks.”

  He raised his brows. “How about I buy you dinner then, eh, love?”

  She swiveled in her seat to face him. “Are you trying to work that Irish charm on me?”

  He kept his eyes trained on the road and tried not to smile. He put a hand to his heart. “Who? Me? I was simply being hospitable and friendly and offering to buy you dinner. Nothing more, nothing less. Mum would skin me alive if she found out I didn’t make sure you’d had something to eat.”

  “I guess I’ll have to work harder on my body language then,” Poppy said, folding her arms across her chest and sticking out her chin. “This stance usually says ‘back off’ to most guys.”

  “Ah, but then I’m not most guys, am I, love?”

  “You’re definitely not. And cut it with the ‘love’ nonsense.”

  He laughed. “Okay.”

  “If you can swing through McDonalds that would be awesome, thanks,” she said, as the familiar golden arches appeared up ahead.

  “Really? You want Maccas?”

  “Are you judging me now too?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think I’d dare.” He flicked the indicator, slowed down and pulled into the parking lot. “McDonalds it is.”

  “Drive-through is fine,” Poppy said.

  “I can’t take the ambulance through the drive-through entrance. It doesn’t fit.”

  He parked, unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out, going around to her side before she had time to unclick her own belt and open her door.

  “Thank you.”

  With a flourish he held his arm out in the direction of the restaurant. “Ladies first.”

  Poppy entered the building ahead of him and went to the counter to place her order. He tried not to watch the way her backside moved when she walked, but it was impossible. She was one of those women who made a man stop and take another look.

  When she tried to pay, he nudged past her and handed over his card. “My shout.”

  “I don’t need you to buy my meal,” Poppy said as she snatched a wad of napkins and grabbed a handful of straws.

  “Humor me. If you start to cost me too much I’ll ask Dad to reimburse me.”

  “I’ll find us some seats then,” she said.

  Liam took it as a win.

  Chapter 13

  The restaurant was packed. Two kids’ birthday parties were in full swing but Poppy spied an empty table in the back corner. She weaved her way toward it and Liam followed two paces behind, carrying their food. It was hard not to miss the way every woman of childbearing age stared.

  Poppy snuck a look at him over her shoulder. He was hot, so it was no wonder they were perving at him. There was something special about Liam. Something appealing. Something natural and confident and relaxed. Something that made Poppy wish she was meeting him under different circumstances. She might have allowed herself to flirt a little with him. But she wasn’t going to because the last thing she needed was another man in her life. At least not so soon and not on the rebound. She wasn’t swearing off men entirely, but she wasn’t going to jump into bed with the next guy she met. No matter how charming he was. Or no matter how cute he sounded. Or looked.

  They sat opposite each other and despite herself she allowed her gaze to linger. After all, there was no harm in looking. He had smooth skin and a strong jaw. And an amazing smile. The kind of smile that was half cheeky school boy, half hunky hero. The kind of smile that made you wonder what kind of trouble he was about to get you into. The kind of smile that evidently made most women swoon.

  He’d removed his cap and left it in the truck and Poppy noticed several strands of silver at his temples mixed with the sandy blond. How old was he? Late thirties? Early forties? It was hard to tell with guys.

  He had some weathering of his features but the laugh lines around his eyes added to his sexy appeal. She glanced at his hands. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t married. Some guys didn’t like wearing a ring. Adam certainly never wore one.

  Maybe if he had …

  She glanced at Liam again. He didn’t act married, but then again, neither had Adam when she’d met him.

  She shoved Adam out of her head and commanded him to stay out.

  While Liam arranged his food on the tray in front of him he kept sneaking glimpses at her too. She could only imagine what he saw. Most likely a haggard-looking woman with raccoon eyes and clothes that shouldn’t see the light of day. She pushed those thoughts aside too. Who cared what he thought she looked like. She’d stopped worrying what other people thought of her years ago.

  As a young kid she’d had her fair share of bullying and it only helped her become more resilient. She couldn’t remember a time in primary school when she wasn’t taller and skinnier than every single boy in the class. That had earned her the nicknames Tall Poppy and Popsicle, both of which were an improvement on Copper Top and Carrot Head which had taunted her during primary school. It wasn’t until her last few years of high school that the boys were able to look her in the eye. But by then they weren’t interested in her eyes – they were more interested in her rapidly expanding chest and developing curves. And when it came to redhead jokes? She’d heard them all.

  “I’m really sorry about your dad,” he said, causing her train of thought to screech to a standstill. “Such a tragic loss of life. He was an awesome man and a brilliant father too.”

  Poppy had the burger halfway to her mouth and stopped in midair. Her good mood evaporated. “Not that I’d know anything about that.”

  Liam frowned. “What do you mean?” He popped a fry into his mouth and chewed slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

  Poppy’s mother’s mantra played in her head. Anyone can be a father but it takes someone special to be a dad.

  “He lost the title of ‘Dad’ the day he walked out on us. My mother said he didn’t have what it took.”

  “I can see the counselling has worked.”

  Poppy froze. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  He held up both hands in a gesture of truce. “I’m sorry. But you’re what, thirty-something, and you’re acting like you’re the first person to be raised by a single mum.”

  Poppy’s mood darkened. First at his thirty-something comment then at his presumption that he knew anything about her upbringing.

  She was tired and when she was tired she got cranky and when she got cranky, things usually disintegrated quickly. She began wrapping her meal and willed herself not to say anything she would later regret. “I don’t have to put up with this you know,” she muttered under her breath. She gave him a tight smile. “I think it would be best if you dropped me to the motel please.”

  “I’m sorry, Poppy, but your dad was a top bloke. You make it sound like he was the devil incarnate. From what I saw over the years, he was an excellent father too. Maybe you should have given him a chance.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Poppy snapped. Liam’s words had sunk deep through her usually hard exterior. “You don’t know the first thing about me or my mother or my life. If you had any idea what it was like being raised by my single mother, you’d keep your opinions to yourself.” She shoved her chair back and felt her face flush with embarrassment. She willed the tears not to flow.

  “Did they call you Stroppy Poppy when you were a kid?”<
br />
  Poppy reeled back and glared at him. “Jeez! Are you always this rude to someone you’ve just met?”

  Liam looked as though she’d slapped him. Hard. His face flushed dark red and she saw the immediate remorse in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and stared straight into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. That was unfair. Sit, please, Poppy. Finish your meal. I was teasing you – trying to lighten the mood. I’m sorry if I was out of line.”

  Several seconds ticked by while Poppy’s anger simmered. She tilted her head to the side, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

  “Way out of line,” Poppy mumbled. She flopped back in her chair and picked up her burger. “But, apology accepted.”

  *

  They continued their meal in silence. Liam was eternally grateful for the noise swirling around them which covered the awkwardness between them. He regretted teasing Poppy the second the words had come out of his mouth. He bunched then released his hands. At least she hadn’t got up and walked off. If she had, he’d feel like a fool chasing her down the street. Although the way he’d insulted her, he deserved more than the verbal telling off he’d received.

  From the moment they’d met he’d seen the way she’d looked at him and if he wasn’t mistaken, she liked what she saw. Without question, he liked what he saw. But, instead of taking things slowly, he’d gone like a bull at a gate, spoken without thinking and screwed up. As usual. If he could have kicked himself, he would have. Maddi would have laughed and told him he needed to work on his meet and greet skills. She wasn’t wrong.

  It took a lot to stop him in his tracks these days, but Poppy McDonald had succeeded. Apart from her personality, which had him beguiled, she was a stunning fireball in the looks department. Large aquamarine eyes, long lashes and an unbelievable smile.

  And that hair. Liam typically preferred blondes, but Poppy’s waist-length hair was amazing. Calling it red simply didn’t do it justice. He had to keep stopping himself from leaning over and running his fingers through the shiny copper tresses. Most redheads had a face full of freckles but Poppy’s skin was fair and she only had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose which danced with her constantly changing expressions.

  He took another bite of his burger and tried to stop his hormones from exploding like a pre-teen boy. Why did he always manage to put his foot in things in the first five minutes? Poppy must think he was the biggest jerk. It would take Blind Freddie not to notice she was nursing deep wounds and he’d gone and pressed on every single one of them without bothering to consider that they might hurt. It took a skill to achieve that sort of idiocy.

  Poppy was spunky and sassy and seemed to have no idea how sexy she was, so instead of playing it cool he’d gone straight to his default mischievous mode and in less than five minutes managed to offend her. Idiot.

  He needed to set things right between them.

  “What do you do for a job?” he asked softly, hoping they could start again with a neutral-sounding question.

  It was a while before she answered him and for a split second he figured she would ignore him. If she did, he deserved it.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re persistent?” she said.

  Wide blue eyes stared at him and his breath hitched. He tried a small smile. “Once or twice. Among other things. I’m sure you could come up with a few other names. Add to the list.”

  She was trying desperately hard not to smile and not succeeding.

  “I’ll bet you’re single,” she muttered under her breath.

  He heard her which made him want to laugh aloud. She was cute when she was pretending to be angry.

  “Yes, I’m single. But so are Superman, Spiderman and Batman.”

  “You’re single because you’re …”

  “An idiot,” he finished for her. “I know. Sad, isn’t it. You can see why women turn away from me in droves. But don’t tell anyone, I’m really a superhero in disguise.”

  This time she did smile and it made him want to do a fist pump.

  “Superheroes are cool,” she said.

  “And I’m not?”

  “Do I need to answer that?”

  “Probably not. So, what do you do for a job?” he repeated.

  “I’m a nurse.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Most days.”

  “What area of nursing?”

  “ED.”

  “Oh yeah? My sister-in-law, Kate, is an intensive care nurse and my sister, Emma, works in ED. It’s a stressful job.”

  “It can be.”

  “You probably see a lot of things in New York that we don’t see here. Lots of stabbings and shootings. That kind of thing.”

  “I guess.”

  She was making him work hard for his apology. He drew breath, temporarily out of questions.

  Their eyes met and once again he caught a flash of something troubled in their blue depths. Was it because of her father’s death or something more?

  She yawned and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, Liam. I’m not yawning because of your boring company or anything. I’m just tired.”

  He was about to say something flippant in reply when he glanced at her. Fatigue had settled like a heavy cloak on her shoulders. He stood and checked his watch.

  “I’m sorry. I should have realized how tired you’d be after your long flight. I’ll take you to the motel now. It’s only around the corner.”

  She stood and stacked all the empty packaging onto one tray. “Your dad said something about arranging a hire car for me.”

  Liam slapped his forehead. “Damn it. I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?”

  “I was so focused on getting you something to eat, then on offending you, that I forgot I was supposed to take you to the car rental place before they closed.”

  Poppy checked her watch and frowned. “No problem. It’s only five-fifteen.”

  “They close at five,” he said.

  She groaned. “Are you kidding me? What will I do without a car? How am I supposed to get around for the next two days?”

  “I can pick you up tomorrow for the funeral if you like then take you to get the hire car after that.” The offer was out before he could stop himself. As soon as he heard the words, he wanted to grab them and stuff them back in. She’d think he was coming onto her again. Which he wasn’t.

  She frowned. “I don’t want to put you out. I’ll call a cab.”

  “No need. I’ll pick you up.”

  “You don’t really understand the meaning of the word ‘no’, do you?” she asked.

  Liam smiled. “I may have been told that once or twice in the past,” he said, grasping her gently by the elbow and steering her outside and back to the ambulance.

  *

  Poppy had never met anyone like Liam O’Connor. He was clearly a charmer intent on making a good first impression, but she was going to sit on the fence about him. Sure, he was attractive and had a fun sense of humor but she wasn’t used to men opening doors for her or paying for her meals. She considered herself a feminist, yet, as much as the attention he was paying her should have upset her, strangely she liked it. Something told her Liam was genuine in his efforts, not chauvinistic. He needed to stop trying so hard. And she needed to stop thinking about him. She blamed it on his accent and her tiredness.

  “I have to drive past your motel on the way to the funeral myself tomorrow. It’s no big deal for me to pick you up. Besides, you don’t know anyone and it might be nice for you to have a friend,” he said.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What did you say?” she asked.

  “You’ll probably need a friend tomorrow.”

  “Forget about the friend comment for a minute – we can come back to that. Why are you going to the funeral?”

  He frowned. “Didn’t Dad tell you? Everyone will be there. It’s a big deal.”

  He unlocked her door and waited for her to climb up into the cab and buckle her belt before he went
around to the driver’s side.

  “Why will you be there?” she repeated as he turned the key in the ignition.

  Liam hesitated. “Your dad and my dad were best mates. Partners too. I’ve known your dad for half my life. Our families grew up together. And I was, um, I was first on the scene of the accident,” he said softly.

  Poppy slumped back in her seat. “I’m sorry, Liam. I had no idea.” She touched him lightly on the arm and felt the radiant heat of his skin through his cotton shirt. “How did it happen?”

  He started driving. When he didn’t answer, she questioned him again.

  “Liam? What happened?”

  He glanced at her then concentrated on the road ahead. “Are you sure you want to know the details?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s much better hearing it from you than finding out tomorrow at the funeral. I know the man you’re talking about was a stranger to me, but his death is still a tragedy.”

  He inhaled deeply. “Macca – Bill – your dad – was in pursuit of a stolen vehicle. He lost control on a bend and his car hit a tree. The car he was chasing smashed headfirst into a truck coming in the other direction. The driver of the stolen car died on impact. The truck driver called it in and did CPR on your dad until we arrived.”

  There was a long, slow beat of silence.

  “Did he die at the scene?” she asked finally. Her voice cracked unexpectedly.

  They’d arrived at the motel and Liam pulled into the carpark and turned off the ignition, leaving them in total quiet except for the cooling beat of the engine.

  He cleared his throat as he gripped and released the steering wheel. “I don’t know if I feel right telling you all of this.”

  “Tell me, please. And don’t spare the specifics. You know I’m a nurse, so I’ll fill in the blanks anyway.”

  He swallowed.

  “Unless it’s too difficult …” She left her sentence unfinished.

  “He wasn’t conscious when we arrived, and the driver of the truck was doing CPR. We got a heart rhythm back after defibbing him twice, but he kept losing blood pressure too quickly. We inserted IV lines and gave him fluids and put in a chest drain. When we got him back up the road and into the ambulance, he arrested again. We intubated him, scooped and ran and it was lights and sirens all the way to emerg.” The words tumbled over each other. “I bagged him while my partner did CPR. We arrived at the Base just as we got a rhythm again.”