by Kate Hardy
She looked at him. ‘So if you’re on meds that don’t affect your fertility...’
‘...and the condoms in my wallet, even though I’m pretty sure they were in date, were old,’ he said, ‘then that would explain it.’
‘With the first test, the line was very faint,’ she said. ‘It was the first time I’d ever actually seen a line appear in the second window.’
He remembered what she’d said about trying for a baby for years with her ex, and discovering that he was infertile. The disappointment every month when her period arrived must’ve been crushing—and even more so on the occasions when it had been late.
‘I couldn’t be sure it was a truly positive result, and I couldn’t tell you about the baby unless I was absolutely sure. So that’s why I went out and bought a second test—and a spare, just in case.’
Rob wanted to wrap his arms round her and hold her close, tell her that everything was going to be all right; but he knew that he needed to resist the impulse. Right now he needed to give her the space to tell him what was in her head.
‘And this time the line was stronger?’ he prompted.
‘This time it was one of those that actually say it in words, and how many weeks pregnant you are.’
That night was the only time they’d slept together. ‘So, if that night was in the middle of your cycle, then you’re six weeks now?’
‘Yes.’ She took an envelope out of her bag. ‘The test says three weeks plus. But I calculated the same as you did.’
He took the envelope, removed the test stick and stared at it.
Something he’d never thought he’d do.
And, instead of making him feel trapped and as if he’d been stuck in a little box, it filled him with joy. Pure elation.
They were going to have a baby.
He wanted to pick her up, twirl her round and cheer.
But she—despite the fact she’d told him that she dearly wanted a baby—didn’t seem to be very happy about it. Had she changed her mind about babies? Or was he the problem?
He needed to know what was in her head. And there was only one way to find out. He damped down all his impulses, and asked, ‘So we’ve established we’re having a baby, next summer. What do you want?’
‘I already told you, I’m not going to make any demands on you,’ she reminded him.
‘Leave me out of the equation for now,’ he said. ‘I want to know what you want. Do you want the baby?’
‘Yes.’
‘And to make a family?’
‘I keep telling you, I don’t expect you to do anything.’
So did she want to be with him, or not? He was going to have to ask her straight out. And he was probably going to have to be the one to tell her that he wanted to make a go of things between them, because if she did want to be with him she clearly didn’t want to be the first to say it.
He gave her a wry smile. ‘My nickname in the family is Rob the Risk-Taker. This is the one time I really, really need to take a risk—and I’m absolutely terrified. Will you promise you’ll hear me out and not back away?’
‘I...’
‘Please, Florence,’ he said. ‘It’s important.’
Finally she nodded. ‘All right.’
‘So here’s the thing. I don’t have a proper diagnosis yet, but thanks to you picking it up I think the fact I can’t settle is all down to the way my brain is wired, and not just pure selfishness on my part, which makes me feel a bit better about it, but...’ He took a breath. ‘I’m babbling. What I’m trying to say is that now I know I’m going to be a dad, and that changes everything. I’m absolutely terrified that I won’t be very good at it—but I’ll do my best to learn how to be a good dad, because even though I haven’t had much time to get my head round the news I’m thrilled.’
Disbelief was etched across her face. What didn’t she believe—that he was going to try to be the best father he could be, or that he was thrilled with the news?
He tried again. ‘I know we’ve done this the wrong way round. You’re supposed to date someone, then sleep with them, then decide you want to make a family together. We still haven’t even got round to dating properly. We slept together and we made a baby. But things have changed for me since I met you,’ he said. ‘For the first time in my life I’ve met someone who actually makes me want to settle down. Someone I can be still with. Someone who understands me.’
She still didn’t look convinced. Then again, now he knew what her ex had done, how he’d denied Florence her dearest wish and then rubbed her nose in it... ‘Your ex,’ he said softly, ‘is an idiot who didn’t recognise what he had with you, and I hate the way he treated you. I have my faults, but I promise I won’t ever deliberately hurt you or deny you. I love you, Florence.’
‘You love me?’ She still didn’t sound as if she believed him, but was that a glimmer of hope he could see in her eyes? He’d take that for the win.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘We haven’t known each other for long,’ he said, ‘but it’s been long enough for me to know. I like you. The doctor I see at work who’s kind, who listens to her patients and takes the trouble to wash someone’s face or sit with them in her lunch break because she knows they’re lonely. The woman who saw I was ill, and who looked after me without making me feel shut in and smothered. The woman who fitted together the pieces of a puzzle I would never have managed to solve for myself. The woman who taught me how to just be instead of having to move all the time.’
‘That’s liking, not love.’
‘I haven’t finished,’ he said. ‘Because I believe liking’s the basis of real love. My parents like each other as well as love each other. Ollie and Gemma like each other. And I really like who you are. I like the way you can be brisk and efficient—but at the same time you’ll take the trouble to stitch a picture of a dinosaur in a tutu for your niece just because you know she’ll love it.
‘I like the way you kiss like an angel and you don’t mind that I sing flat—you laugh with me, not at me. I like you. But, more than that, you make my pulse skip a beat when you smile. Those huge brown eyes of yours turn me to mush. And every time I see you I want to kiss you until we’re both dizzy.’
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
‘And I’m growing to love you a little more every day. I’ve been going crazy, this last week, trying to work out how to tell you how I feel about you without making you run a mile.’
‘But you’ve avoided me at work.’
‘I’ve been trying to give you space,’ he said. ‘I was kind of hoping you’d miss me and then I could show you how I feel about you. That I’m serious.’
‘Show me?’
‘I finished this tonight.’ He headed to the sideboard, took the thing he’d been working on all week out of a drawer and handed it to her. ‘This is for you.’
* * *
Florence stared at the piece of material.
Rob must’ve been working on the cross-stitch for days. It was way too complicated for a beginner.
And it was absolutely beautiful: a tree, whose branches were in the shape of a stylised heart. He’d added heart-shaped leaves to the branches; the trunk contained the word ‘love’ in a fancy script; and the roots also made a name.
Her name.
‘That’s amazing,’ she said.
‘I made it for you,’ he said, ‘to try to tell you how I feel about you. You ground me, Florence. You’re my roots. And what’s growing is love.’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’ Or done for her. She couldn’t believe he’d made something so beautiful.
‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I did have some help finding the design and customising it—Ollie’s fiancée is very close to the owner of the local craft shop, and she helped me. But it’s from my heart.’
‘It’s stunning. I can’t believe you’ve put all that work into it.’
‘And sat still for so long,’ he said with a wry smile.
‘It’s amazing.’
‘So here it is,’ he said. ‘I’m not offering you something easy. I’m always going to have a restless side, even though now I know what’s behind it I can do more to keep that under control. And there’s the whole kidney thing, and the possibility of the transplant rejection will always be in the background. But I love you, Florence, and I want to be with you. I want to make a family with you. I want to help you bring up our baby—and maybe more babies in the future, if we’re lucky. I’m hoping that maybe I can stay here permanently, but until a permanent job comes up here I’m happy to commute, or do whatever it takes to make this work. I know you’ve been hurt, and I know I’m asking you to take a huge risk—but I love you and I think we can make this work if we do this together. Will you marry me?’
He loved her.
He wanted to marry her.
He wanted to be there for the baby, make a family with her.
‘You don’t have to answer just yet,’ he said. ‘Think about it. I’ll give you all the time you need.’
‘You love me,’ she said.
‘And I’m not asking you to marry me just because of the baby, or because I think it’s the right thing to do. I’m asking you because I want you. Because with you the world finally makes sense.’
‘I’ve been so scared of letting myself fall for you. That’s why I left your hotel room, that morning. I thought you’d be gone again in a few weeks and I didn’t want to fall in love with you, only to lose you,’ Florence said. ‘But I don’t think my heart was listening to my head, because I fell in love with you anyway. The way you danced with me. The way you made me feel.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I love you, Rob. You’re right. It’s not going to be easy. But we can make this work because we’ll be together and we’re on the same side. So yes. I’ll marry you and make a family with you.’
He whooped, picked her up, and swung her round. And then he put her down hastily. ‘Sorry. I need to treat you with kid gloves.’
‘Says the man who can’t stand cotton wool,’ she pointed out.
‘I seem to remember someone recommending bamboo cloths,’ he said with a grin.
She spread her hands. ‘Works for me.’
He kissed her. ‘I love you, Florence. I’m going to be the best partner and the best dad I can be—and I know I’ll be my best self with you by my side.’
‘I love you, too, Rob.’
He kissed her again. ‘And I think we have some family meet-ups to arrange. My family’s going to love you.’
‘And mine’s going to love you. Especially if you tell three certain flower girls that they can have pink floaty dresses.’
‘With an accessory of dinosaurs,’ he said. ‘Yeah. Works for me.’ He kissed her again. ‘And we have a wedding to plan.’
EPILOGUE
August, nine months later
FLORENCE AND GEMMA stood still as their matrons of honour did up the zips at the back of their dresses, then came round to the front.
‘Beautiful,’ Claire pronounced.
‘Perfect,’ Lexy agreed.
‘And we’re all ready, girls?’ Rupa, Florence’s best friend and chief bridesmaid, asked.
‘Yes!’ Margot, Anna, Scarlett—Gemma’s goddaughter—and Darcey chorused, doing a curtsey.
Even baby Iona, cradled in her grandmother’s arms, cooed a kind of ‘yes’.
‘It’s a perfect day for a wedding,’ Stephanie Baxter, Gemma’s mum, said.
‘Doubly perfect for a double wedding,’ Heidi Jacobs, Florence’s mum, added. ‘Isn’t that right, Iona?’
The baby gurgled again.
Stephanie glanced at her watch. ‘Looks as if we’re about ready to go. Who’s going to hold my hand?’
‘Me!’ Scarlett said.
‘And me!’ Anna said.
‘I’ll let the photographer know we’re coming,’ Claire said. ‘I can’t believe you found a house with a double staircase.’
‘One side for each bride, and all our bridesmaids and matrons of honour in the middle,’ Florence said gleefully. ‘Just be glad we didn’t make you all dress in Regency outfits.’
‘Olls would look lovely as a Regency gentleman,’ Gemma said. ‘Though Rob would have to lose the stubble and wear a wig.’
‘He would’ve grown over-the-top whiskers, if we’d suggested that,’ Florence said with a grin. ‘They’ll look good enough in top hat and tails.’
‘And you look amazing,’ Stephanie said. ‘Gemma, your father’s so thrilled.’
‘Me, too,’ Gemma said softly.
Florence reached across and squeezed her sister-in-law-to-be’s hand; Gemma had told her about how Oliver had helped heal the breach with her parents. ‘Hey. No crying allowed, even if they’re happy tears.’
‘Yeah.’ Gemma gave her a broad smile. ‘The only one allowed to cry is Iona. And I get first dibs on cuddles.’
Florence saw the sudden brightness in Gemma’s eyes, and wondered. When their mums and attendants had all left the room, she said, ‘Would I be right in guessing you’re just past the morning sickness stage?’
Gemma blushed. ‘That’s the problem with having medics in the family. They notice things. Twelve weeks.’
‘You look doubly radiant—a bride and a mum-to-be,’ Florence said. ‘Ollie’s going to fall in love with you all over again.’
‘And Rob’s going to fall at your feet. How do you manage to look so gorgeous when you haven’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks?’ Gemma asked.
‘Because it’s our wedding day,’ Florence said, ‘so I think there’s just a bit of magic everywhere.’
* * *
‘This place is pretty spectacular,’ Rob said, gesturing to the beautiful double staircase in the hall of the Georgian house. There was a stained-glass dome in the ceiling, and the sunlight shone through so that the black and white marble floor was full of colour.
‘Given that Gemma loves all the Austen stuff as much as Florence does, we should consider ourselves lucky they were satisfied with a Regency ballroom and didn’t want us dressed up as Mr Darcy,’ Oliver said with a grin.
‘You know what? I wouldn’t have minded if it made Florence happy,’ Rob said.
‘I wouldn’t have minded either,’ Oliver said. ‘Though it’s not how or where you get married that matters, it’s having your family and your friends there.’
‘Agreed,’ Rob said. ‘Look—here come the girls. I can’t believe how many bridesmaids we’ve got between us. And look at Mum. She looks so happy.’
‘Of course she does. It’s the wedding day of both of her sons—and she’s cuddling her first grandchild,’ Oliver said. ‘Getting in a bit of pract—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Um...’
Rob’s head whipped round. ‘Are you telling me...?’
‘Twelve weeks. Don’t tell Gem I told you,’ Oliver warned.
‘I won’t,’ Rob promised, and grinned. ‘That’s brilliant. Welcome to the never-sleep-again club.’
‘Thank you. I can’t wait,’ Oliver said. ‘If I look as good on it as you do, bring on the sleepless nights.’
And then they both fell silent as their brides walked out from opposite sides of the gallery to the middle, hugged each other, then stood at the top of the double staircase.
The string quartet in the middle of the hall began to play ‘The Flower Duet’ from Delibes’ Lakmé, and Florence and Gemma walked down the stairs towards them.
‘It doesn’t get better than this,’ Rob whispered.
‘Oh, it does,’ Oliver said. ‘We get to kiss our brides. And the first dance.’
‘And then,’ Rob said, hugging his brother, ‘we get the happy ever after.’
*
* *
If you missed the previous story in the Twin Doc’s Perfect Match duet, then check out
Second Chance with Her Guarded GP
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Kate Hardy
Forever Family for the Midwife
Fling with Her Hot-Shot Consultant
Heart Surgeon, Prince...Husband!
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Hawaiian Medic to Rescue His Heart by Annie O’Neil.
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Life and love in the world of modern medicine.
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Hawaiian Medic for the ER Doc
by Annie O’Neil
CHAPTER ONE
“HAILANA’S IS THE BEST—now zip it!”
Lulu ran her fingers along her mouth, then made the shaka sign with her hand, the more peaceful gesture finally managing to silence her colleagues, who were coming near to blows over who knew the best “secret” place to buy garlic shrimp farther up the coast.
Ono grinds—the Hawaiian version of choice fast food outlets—were often the main topic of discussion, when the crew members weren’t retelling stories of recent rescues or actually rescuing someone. Which, to be fair, was most of the time. But the tourist season was coming to an end and there was an extra splash of “sitting-around time,” during which conversation usually revolved around food.
Lulu had five big brothers—each and every one of them born and bred right here on Oahu—so if anyone knew where the best garlic shrimp were, she did. Besides, she was acting crew chief, and there was an all-island alert sounding on the emergency scanner. Perfect shrimp on a cloud of beautifully steamed rice with an unctuous lashing of teriyaki sauce would have to wait.
