by Lucy Clark
The thought both frightened and filled her with questions. Was the person she’d become too different from the young woman Arthur had known? Was he still infatuated with the idea of them together or could he see the reality of their present situation—two people drawn together through the emotions of a mutual past love?
‘Everything’s going to be all right, Maybelle,’ Arthur murmured, bringing her thoughts back to the present. The tears were starting to diminish and she became more conscious of the way Arthur was rubbing a hand up and down her back, soothing her.
‘Is it?’ She sniffed and eased back. He didn’t try to hold her close to keep her captive and she was grateful. If he’d been anyone else, if he was a man she’d recently met, she’d be suspicious about his actions, but not with Arthur.
Free from his arms, she dragged in several breaths, trying to get her mind out of mush mode and back into logical mode. ‘Is everything going to be all right?’ She started pacing around the apartment, shaking her head. ‘Because I have no idea if it is or if it isn’t. Besides, isn’t that just a token statement? “It’ll be all right.”’ She used air quotes as she spoke. ‘When people say that, what do they really mean?’
Arthur watched as she stopped moving and planted her hands on her hips. Her eyes were flashing with determination, her tone was laced with stubbornness and her body language indicated she was spoiling for a fight. Good heavens, the woman was stunning!
‘Is everything going to be all right, Arthur? Define everything. Do you mean politics? World peace? Are you talking about sport, wondering if your football team is going to win? Or perhaps you’re referring to a patient, hoping they’ll make it through their treatment?’ She spread her arms wide, staring at him as though daring him to answer. She was toned, fit and healthy. That was all he could think about as she started pacing again, once more jumping up onto her soap box to continue her rant. All the while, all he could think about was how he desperately wanted to kiss her, and not just any kiss but a real kiss.
Yes, he’d kissed her at the hospital in the stockroom, but that had been to prove a point, to confirm he wasn’t going crazy. What he hadn’t expected was to discover in that stockroom that the attraction which had existed between them all those years ago appeared to have been on a low simmer, the fire never really having gone out. It was still there, still very much alive, and after that kiss it had been re-ignited with a vengeance. At least, it had been for him.
How did she feel about it? He’d already lived through a one-sided relationship, with his ex-wife deciding that monogamy wasn’t for her. Yvette’s affairs and her blasé attitude to her marriage vows had made him wary of other women. Yvette had loved him, had been interested in him, in sharing a life with him. She just hadn’t understood why she also couldn’t share a life with other men, be interested in other men and love other men.
His fiery red-headed defence attorney had plunged her hand into his body and ripped his heart out. Then she’d crushed it into tiny pieces and left it to rot. It had taken him almost eight years to piece his life back together, to try not to fixate on a woman’s ulterior motive when they started dating.
And here he was, wondering how Maybelle had felt about that kiss in the stockroom? About how she’d felt when he’d held her close just now? About why she was ranting and raving the way she was? Was it all designed to put him off? To make him realise that she was a woman with a lot of baggage to sort out? The real question was, did he want to stick around and help her, especially when he wasn’t sure he’d ever understand what it was she’d been through?
As she continued to pace and talk, he couldn’t help but become aware of her fluid movements, how she seemed to glide with ease yet every muscle in her body was taut and on red alert. Was that how she’d lived her life these past years? On red alert? Never being able to fully relax?
He could hear his mother’s words as she’d given him some advice he’d often employed. ‘Sometimes, Arthur, you’ll have to accept that you can’t understand everything in life. Much like men and childbirth. They can empathise but they’ll never truly know what it’s like to give birth.’
He was facing that situation now. He could never understand but he didn’t need to. What he needed was to find a way to ease Maybelle’s constant pacing, her nervousness, her anxiety. Instead of getting lost in his own thoughts, he focused more closely on what she was saying.
‘Yes, the threat is over. That’s what I’ve been told ever since Dad passed away. With the death of my parents, the major threat has been removed. Now I’ve been “released back into society”, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and I’m meant to just lead a normal life?’ Her voice choked slightly at the end and his heart turned over with sympathy. Arthur also knew that was the last emotion she’d want from him.
Maybelle stopped pacing. ‘It’s like a war hero coming back from being on tour, having witnessed distressing events, then being told to get back to the life they’d left behind. It’s not that easy, especially when the last time I had a normal life I was sixteen years old.’
Listening to her, watching her movements, sensing her frustration, Arthur’s need to help and protect her increased. He wanted to do all he could to help her settle into the normal life it appeared she was looking for. And yet the memory of the kiss they’d shared was still fresh in his mind and that brought another set of problems to the fore.
Could he open himself up to sharing his life with a woman? There was already the high probability that she’d hurt him again. Heavens, the last time she’d left, it had been as though she had ripped out his heart and taken it to wherever it was she’d disappeared to.
So just how far was he willing to go to help Maybelle find her new level of normal? He was attracted to her, yes, but was he emotionally capable of opening himself up to the possibility of getting hurt again?
‘I don’t know how to make sense of this new life, Arthur.’ He looked across at her, meeting her gaze and noticing how emotionally helpless she looked. She was emotionally helpless and he was emotionally cautious. Not a wise combination. Could they find a safe combination? Could they go back to being friends and ignoring the effects of the re-ignited fire that surrounded them?
‘I guess that’s what I’m trying to say,’ she continued when he didn’t say anything. ‘My life has been structured one way for so long—a life with strict rules and regulations because those rules and regulations were designed to save my life, which they did on several occasions.’ Maybelle fluffed her curly blonde hair with her fingers and he had to admit the style really did suit her. Yes. He was definitely attracted to her. There was no doubt about that but could he be her friend? She didn’t need any more complications in life and neither did he.
‘But can I live my new life with rules that aren’t as strict? Or rules that I have to make up myself? I need to put parameters in place but first I need to figure out what those parameters are.’ She frowned and spread her arms wide. ‘Am I making any sense?’
‘Uh-huh.’
She fixed him with a glare. ‘Have you even been listening to me, Arthur?’
‘Yes. I’ve heard every word.’
‘And yet with the way you’re staring at me now, it’s as though you’d like to sweep me off my feet and head towards the bedroom.’
Damn. Was he that obvious? Even hearing her say those words out loud caused a wave of desire to surge through him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to school his features into an impassive mask. Meeting her again had definitely disrupted his life and destroyed a lot of the preconceived ideas and theories he’d had regarding her disappearance. She was alive. She was healthy—emotionally scarred, but healthy. These were good things, given the alternatives, but what she needed from him now, and also what he needed from her, was some time to let the dust settle as they reconnected.
‘I won’t deny I find you attractive.’ He kept his eyes closed as he spoke those words out loud, knowing if he looked at her it would make them all the mor
e difficult to say. ‘However…’ Arthur dragged in a calming breath and finally opened his eyes. ‘I want to help you, Maybelle.’
‘How?’ The question was quiet.
‘By being your friend. I’m still processing the fact you’re alive, and you’re still figuring out your life. Any romantic entanglements are only going to complicate things and, quite frankly, I’ve had my fair share of complicated.’
‘Friends?’ She sounded sceptical.
‘We’ve been friends before.’ He smiled at her. ‘Surely we can do it again.’ It would require a lot of self-restraint from him but the choice was simple. If he pushed for a romantic entanglement, it might fizzle out within a month and then they’d start avoiding each other. As they worked together, and now lived very close to each other, that would cause more tension than he was willing to endure.
Besides, by a stroke of luck, she was back in his life once more. His old childhood friend. Wasn’t that more important than any desire-filled tryst that would cause them both more pain? Maybelle was back in his life and he wanted her to stay there. The decision was cut and dried, so why did he feel as though he was lying to himself?
‘Friends.’ She sighed with relief. What did that sigh mean? That she didn’t want a physical relationship with him? That she, too, had had enough of relationships that only brought stress and confusion? He halted his thoughts and watched as a lovely smile lit her features. ‘Yes. We can be friends. Friends is good.’
‘Excellent.’ After resolving what had clearly been an undercurrent both of them had been avoiding, Maybelle sat down on the carpet, as though her body had no more energy to keep her standing upright. She crossed her legs and her head sank forward, only to be disturbed a moment later when a cute Fuzzy-Juzzy came over to her and started licking her hand.
Maybelle’s unreserved laughter caused his gut to tighten. Good heavens, that was a glorious sound and as he watched her play with the dog, a smile of utter delight on her face, he wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake. Just friends? It was going to take a lot of self-control for him to keep his promise.
*
For the next few days, Arthur made sure he kept to his promise of being friends with Maybelle. He helped her to lease a car—she’d refused to buy, saying she wasn’t ready for that level of permanence yet—and provided her with a plethora of menus from take-away places that delivered.
‘We could even do something completely wild and go grocery shopping so you have actual food in your apartment,’ he’d suggested when he’d found her eating breakfast at the hospital cafeteria on Friday morning. He’d taken his coffee to her table and sat down, enjoying the surprise of spending some one-on-one time with her. The ED had been hectic during the day and he’d forced himself to keep his distance in the evenings. Surprisingly, he’d missed her. Missed seeing that smile that lit her features, or that little frown that crinkled her forehead, or the way she twirled her hair around her finger.
‘Perhaps on the weekend,’ she’d offered as she’d finished off her scrambled eggs, toast and coffee.
‘You do realise the weekend is tomorrow?’
She paused for a moment. ‘Huh. So it is.’
‘Are you still planning to buy some extra bits and pieces for your apartment?’
‘Yes. I need a microwave and a proper coffee machine.’
‘And some throw cushions for your lounge and a few pictures to hang on the walls. Plus, didn’t you say that your doona wasn’t warm enough?’
‘Yes—yes, I did. Right. I’ll add doona to the list, but I don’t think the other things are necessary.’
‘Why not?’
‘They’re not practical, Arthur.’
‘I beg to differ. Your lounge is incredibly uncomfortable, and a throw cushion might just make all the difference.’
‘It is not uncomfortable.’
‘Then why do you sit on the floor so much?’ When she opened her mouth to protest, he leaned forward and pressed a finger to her lips. ‘You asked me to help you find a normal life, Maybelle. Normal people have…’
He faltered as the warmth of her breath caressed his fingertip, the sensation travelling up his arm and engulfing him with desire. He swallowed and jerked his hand back, forcing the rest of his sentence out and hopefully covering over his slip-up.
‘They have throw cushions and pictures on the walls.’ Why had he touched her? Touching her provoked sensations he was desperately trying to keep under control and made them rise up to the surface.
‘If…if normal people do it, then I guess I have to as well.’ The sigh she gave was an exaggerated one but he hadn’t missed the slight stumble over her words, indicating she’d felt that same natural chemistry that seemed to flow through them no matter how much they tried to deny it.
‘We could definitely go shopping tomorrow.’ As he said the words, the hospital cellphone on his belt started ringing. ‘Uh-oh.’
‘The phone of doom is ringing.’ She started to pack up her dishes onto a tray so she could stack it on the dirty dishes trolley on the way out of the cafeteria.
He smiled at her words and was glad they’d worked their way past the dangerous moment. As he answered the phone, he made a mental note not to touch her again because it seemed the instant they made contact both of them lost all resolve over their self-control. At least, that was the way it was for him. He wasn’t quite sure how Maybelle felt about it.
They headed back to the ED, Arthur talking to Gemma on the phone.
‘Let me guess,’ Maybelle remarked once he’d ended the conversation. ‘Emergency? Ambulances on their way?’ Her words were laced with an easygoing sarcasm as she stated the obvious. Light-hearted banter. He could definitely cope better with this light-hearted banter than being in close proximity where her sunshine-and-roses scent infiltrated his senses and made his need for her increase.
He laughed. ‘See? This is why we only employ the best doctors in the ED. They’re so switched on.’ They worked together in Emergency, treating their patients and stabilising them so they could be transferred to either the ward, the emergency theatres or back home. That evening, Arthur decided it was time he tackled the mound of paperwork that was starting to swamp his desk. He gathered the new stack of papers Gemma had handed him and started towards his office.
‘Are you working on those at home tonight?’ Maybelle asked as she fell into step beside him.
‘That was the plan.’
‘Need any help? I could order pizza. Halve the workload.’
It was a tempting offer. To sit and talk about boring work stuff with someone who completely understood what he was on about, both of them eating pizza and making the mundane chore less of a chore, would be wonderful and it was for that very reason why he had to decline her offer.
‘Thanks, but it shouldn’t take me too long.’ He went to use the pass card for his office door but it failed twice. He was balancing a mound of papers in a rather precarious fashion and if his stupid door didn’t open soon, he was going to end up dropping everything. Add to that the fact that Maybelle’s delightful summery scent was winding itself around him, driving him crazy, and it was little wonder he was starting to get a tad impatient.
‘Here. Let me,’ she said as she took the pass card off him and swiped it through the sensor at a different angle. The door clicked and Arthur immediately entered his office, almost tripping over his own feet in the rush to put a bit more distance between them.
He dumped the papers onto his desk and shook his head. ‘And they said we’d be living in a paperless office by now. Sheesh!’
‘So is that a yes to help and pizza?’
‘Actually, I think I might just knuckle down here and get it done. You can, however, help me by feeding Juzzy.’
‘Oh. Uh…sure.’
He could see she was disappointed. Did she want to spend time with him because she liked being with him? Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to be alone? Or worse yet—she liked doing paperwork? ‘Great. I’ll get my spa
re keys for you.’ He opened the small safe that was located in a cupboard under his desk and took out a set of keys.
‘You keep spare keys at your office?’
‘Where else would I keep them if I accidentally locked myself out?’
‘Huh.’ She accepted the keys. ‘So that’s what normal people do.’ She tapped the side of her head as though making a mental note.
‘What would you have done if you’d been locked out of your apartment? You know, in the “not so normal” world of witness protection?’
‘I would have asked my bodyguard if I could borrow their key, or get them to break down the door,’ she stated, then shrugged when he stared at her. ‘There’s not a lot of immediate privacy when it comes to witness protection. Someone always has to know your whereabouts.’
‘Was it always that way?’ He couldn’t help the question. He didn’t want to dwell on the past or bring up bad memories for her but at times his curiosity got the better of him.
‘For the first year, definitely. Then things settled down for a bit.’ She paused, looking off into the distance. ‘It changed again when my mum died, that’s when I had a bodyguard for a while, but…’ Maybelle drew in a breath and forced a polite smile. ‘All over now.’ She jingled his keys and repeated his instructions for Juzzy to make sure she had them correct. The last thing she wanted to do was to overfeed his dog.
