Still the One

by Louisa George

  Her heart squeezed so hard it hurt and she had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. He’d never been one for saying how he felt, but this…? She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. Except that ray of hope flickered back to life, dancing a little in the new light of his words, and a sadness deep in her bones that they hadn’t been able to talk like this years ago.

  “I could have done more. Stayed around…I’m sorry…” She trailed off, not sure what more to say. Because it was finished, done. In the past. And sad. So sad. And more, she was glad she’d left. She’d needed to go. She’d done as much as she could to help a sick man who didn’t want helping. What was the point of being a doctor if you couldn’t heal the person who needed it most?

  But that didn’t stop the ache in her throat, and her heart.

  His fingers tightened around hers. Firm, but gentle. “You have nothing to be sorry about, but me? I should have worked harder, I should have fought for us, but instead I drank myself stupid and blocked everyone out. I’m sorry, I really am. I messed up.”

  I’m sorry. How much she’d wanted to hear that at the time. But she couldn’t help thinking that this was too little, too late. From both of them. “You don’t know how much that means to me, hearing you say that. But the break-up wasn’t one-sided.” She squeezed his hands, felt his warmth ooze through her. Felt a tug, an unbidden need that both excited and scared her. She put it down to the fact that this was the first time they’d managed a prolonged conversation without accusations, blame or just plain shouting. Or the long harrowed silences—they had been the worse. “I could have stayed and fought harder too.”

  “You were better off out of it, trust me. Look at you, you’re glowing, you’ve achieved everything you wanted. I’m pleased for you.” He nodded and looked down at their joined hands. Then he tugged his away, scrambled to his feet and started to stack some free weights onto a shelf.

  She felt very off-balance. “Really? Pleased? In all honesty?”

  He looked back at her, genuinely surprised. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because I left you here and went off on my own little trip to the other side of the world. I thought you’d hate me for that.”

  “God, no. I hated myself for long enough, there wasn’t room in that black hole to drag anyone else in. I was messed-up, I know. I broke us, I broke me, and I almost broke you. You had a lucky escape before I brought you down to my level. I should have gotten help.”

  How many times had she told him that? How many times had he refused to listen? A rookie cop trying to deal with a hit and run on a young boy needed support. Period. Especially when he’d tried so hard to save him. “They should have provided help. You can’t be expected to deal with the death of a kid on your own, not when you’d fought so hard to keep him alive.”

  At the mention of his most haunting failure—his words, not hers—he didn’t even flinch. Either he’d worn it so close it had become part of him, or he’d somehow worked out how to deal with it. Finally. “I know that now, Emma. I should have listened to you. But there’s no point going back over that, right? Should haves won’t change anything. We need to look forward and leave the past behind.”

  Did he mean their marriage too? Of course he did. It was over. No point raking over that. The marriage was over but there was certainly unfinished business on the attraction front. Which meant the next few days were going to test her resolve. The merest touch of his hands had unleashed a deep longing. So not the plan. She had a job and a future far away. There was nothing for her here; no jobs at least, and she’d tried once with Danny and failed. She needed to keep reminding herself of that.

  She brightened her voice, changing the subject away from something so intense. “So, look at what you’ve done to the house—it’s amazing. I bet you’ve almost finished our never-ending list.”

  “That bloody list. It will haunt me for the rest of my life. Wait there.” He disappeared out of the room. And she was glad of the reprieve but also surprised at the tightening thrill in her gut at the thought of him coming back. When he did he was holding a tattered piece of paper covered in mind-map trails and multi-colored handwriting, arrows and scrawl. He handed it to her. “This list?”

  “You actually kept my Rich-bitch list? Oh, my God. You did.” She read through it. “A new ensuite bathroom with a rain shower head and marble tiles. A Mercedes. Really? God, I was such a spoilt cow. A corner lounge suite from Dervills? Typical, I had to want everything from the most expensive shop in the city. Leather kitchen stools. As well as a new top of the range car? Wow. Go me. All I want these days is a cup of hot cocoa and eight hours’ sleep a night. Possibly a glass or two of prosecco on a Saturday night if I’m pushing the boat out. How the mighty fall.”

  He gave a wry smile, arms loosely folded across his chest, showcasing muscles…well, everywhere. “You certainly aimed high back then. You shouldn’t change that. Dream big, Emma, you deserve to.”

  “I did. I do.” She gave him the list back and shuddered. Had it been aiming high or just her greed and self-indulgence that had helped push him into a place he got stuck in? “The GP job takes a lot of commitment, more than I realized, to be honest. I’ve spent two years working in a pretty deprived area so I have a very different perspective these days. You’re not the only who can change, you know.”

  “That’s a shame.” He smiled and his eyes blazed. Hot. “I kinda liked you as you were.”

  Oh, and how well she’d known that. In the dark he would whisper all the things he loved about her. The way she nibbled on his lip when she kissed him. The way she breathed his name when he was inside her. The way she straddled him…

  She caught his gaze, snagged it and held as the memories of hot nights and steamy kisses rolled through her; the surge of heat making her tremble. Before she could stop herself she put a hand out, placed it against his chest. Felt the calm beat of his heart and his heat through the rough starched fabric.

  And the thought of ripping that shirt from his body flitted through her head.

  Danny’s hand curled around her fingers and he held them against his heart as he had when they’d slow-danced at their wedding. “Emma?”

  At his raw, cracked voice she dragged her eyes away from his, studied his face. The proud stubbled jawline, the tiniest bump in his nose from a rugby tackle in senior school. That sultry mouth with the all-knowing smile. He had given her such pleasure with that. And he was close enough to do it all again.

  Because, yes, she wanted to kiss him. To taste him. To feel his skin beneath her fingers. She wanted to explore this new Danny, the one who was gentle and kind and steady. The one who had ticked off most of the things on her list. Who had danced on a police float. Who had saved lives and delivered babies.

  Mostly, she wanted to reignite the passionate Danny, to feel him hard against her. Wanting her.

  Damn right she did. And more. God, would she never stop wanting him?

  They were married after all.

  Not for long. There were papers to be signed. Don’t lose yourself again.

  With her free hand she traced his lips, tears pricking her eyes. Stupid. Stupid. It had been hard enough to love him once, she would not do it again. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Acknowledging the barriers they’d both erected, he let her hand drop and stalked to the door, his gait less self-assured. More distance. More space. “I’ll put the jug on? Tea? Coffee? Er…wine?”

  “Coffee… maybe?” It probably wasn’t wise to stay. “But…”

  There was always that but running around in her head. The reminder that when things weren’t going well he hadn’t turned to her, but to a bottle. He hadn’t trusted her to steer him back on course, to work with him, like a husband and wife should. He’d pushed her away.

  Emma looked at the debris around her; the boxes and the books and her discarded sandals, and tried to focus on that.

  “Actually, make that a no. I’ll just clear up he
re and then go. I still have a few Christmas gifts to get and I’d earmarked this afternoon to shop. I’ve brought some nice things from England, but there are a few bits I need to get here too.”

  He paused, once again leaning in the doorway. “Going all out as usual? You must have loved being over there for Christmas; all that snow and dark evenings and log fires?”

  “Yes, yes, it was magical. Just as you’d imagine. Perfect for a Christmas addict like me.”

  “And now you’re back to barbecues and sunshine and heat.”

  “Tough life, but someone’s got to live it.” But right now she couldn’t think about Christmas or weddings or summer… all she could think about was the way he’d looked at her. The way she’d felt when she touched him again.

  And the fact that she needed to get the hell out of this house. And quick.

  Chapter 4

  Dan hauled the final kayak to the water’s edge, scratched his head for the fifteenth time and growled at Bas, “Do I really have to wear this lame Christmas hat?”

  “Awww, it suits you, Santa’s little helper. You only have to wear it for the kayaking— you’re the leader, so wearing something bright red and flashing like that will let everyone know where you are.”

  “NASA can probably see me from the space station,” Daniel growled again, but he secured the red felt hat more tightly and winced as the little bell on the point tinkled every time he moved his head. The fur round the rim was irritating, especially in full summer sun.

  No, actually he’d been irritated before he’d put the damn thing on. Ever since he’d watched Emma leave his house, with thoughts of previous Christmases rumbling through his head; his annoyance that she’d go all out and spend so much cash on decorations, that she’d make a huge fuss of him. And he’d always felt as if he’d somehow let her down- chosen the wrong present, not made enough effort.

  Story of his life.

  He should have told her every Christmas, not just at Christmas, he should have told her every damned day that he’d loved her. That she made his life worthwhile—goddamn, she made his life. Period. But he’d never said those things, never made her understand how much she’d meant to him.

  Looking around at the group of ten kayakers, he dragged in a deep breath and drew them all closer for the pep talk. Having spent the last few minutes trying not to get too close to Emma as he’d helped her with a sticky zip on her lifejacket, he was glad of the reprieve. She was wearing nothing but a bikini covered by a tight rash vest and the shortest of shorts that showed off her long legs. Her hair was tied back again, a baseball cap pulled down on her head. She’d smiled wryly at his Santa hat and he’d turned away as shivers of lust had rippled through him.

  Now she was hopping into the rear of his kayak because there weren’t any spare single ones and Bas had made them share. Again, to hell with his matchmaking. As if leading a troupe of novice paddlers wasn’t hard enough. He could barely breathe with her around, never mind croak out orders.

  “Right. That’s everyone sorted? Okay, listen up. I need you to check that your lifejackets are fastened. All good? Great. Once we’re out there make sure to keep a hold of your oars—they have a habit of floating off if you let them go. We’re heading out northwards towards that peninsula over there to the right. Try to stay close together. We’ll paddle around the headland, it can get a bit choppy so take extra care. I’ll head up the front, Bas is at the back with Megan. Okay, everyone happy…? Let’s go.”

  He jumped into the kayak, pushed off from the rocky bay and headed out in a northerly direction past the ferry terminal and wharf, then hugged the cliffs until they reached open water. The sun was still high in the sky and a gentle breeze rocked the moored boats around them. It was good to be outside, to put his muscles to use. Prancing like an idiot on a float hadn’t helped rid him of the unspent tension crawling through him. Neither had seeing Emma in his house—their house—again.

  He pulled the oars hard and fast and watched as the headland quickly dipped behind them. A warm summer’s evening on the water, drifting away from the Christmas crowds, expending energy, watching the sea-life and native birds. Peace. It should have been perfect.

  It wasn’t.

  He’d almost kissed her.

  She’d been in his house, in his space, and her scent had permeated the air, reminding him of everything that had happened. The good and the truly terrible. Sitting on the floor surrounded by their memories there had been tears in her eyes as she’d looked up at him. He’d made her cry. More than once. Too many times.

  After erasing her from his life, finally ridding himself of the hold she had over him, her presence here again was so vivid, so intense that he was struggling to work out any of the weird emotions swirling in his chest.

  So, he’d almost kissed her.

  Worse, he still wanted to. And he didn’t want to stop at just kissing.

  “Danny…” Her voice floated to him on the sea breeze. “Danny…”

  “Yes?” He twisted round to see her. Side-lit by the sun her startling blue eyes were bright with light, a smile on her lips. She pointed behind them, to the rest of the group in the distance, specks moving slowly forwards. “You’ve powered out so fast and so hard we’ve left them all way behind. We need to stop a minute for them to catch up. It’s not a race.”

  “Oh.” So much for being the conscientious leader. Laughing, he shrugged. “Got carried away, I guess. Right. Yes.”

  “Or is it a race?”

  He carefully swiveled round to sit facing her, dangling his legs either side of the kayak into the cooling ocean. “No. My mind was elsewhere.”

  “Yeah, that was obvious. I guess we’ll have to hold tight for a few minutes.’ She laughed along and placed her oars between her legs inside the canoe. Then she looked up at the hills to the right, and to the long swaying grass, the riot of scarlet on the trees and the colorful meadow flowers on the slopes leading down to the water’s edge. “Wow, it’s so pretty here, I’d forgotten how beautiful it could be. No people. No noise. Just nature and…us.”

  “Weird, eh? Who would have thought? You and me, doing this again.”

  The light dimmed a little then and the corners of her mouth fell. Whatever happy vibe she’d been feeling before died in the water.

  “Danny…Listen, I need to talk to you about something. Something private.”

  “Sure.” His heart drummed and his gut tightened. Truth was, he wasn’t sure at all. But whatever she was going to say, he probably deserved. He ached to make her smile again, but instead he sat uselessly in the boat staring at her.

  “See… the thing is…” She took a deep breath and slid her hand over his, her grip cold and wet as she shivered. Biting her lip she closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Then a bird screeched overhead and her eyes snapped open again. “It’s nothing. Sorry. Forget it. Bad timing. Look, there’s a white heron. So gorgeous.”

  “Stop hedging. Come on. Tell me.”

  There was a question in her eyes. And she answered it herself, lifting her hand from his and placing it in her lap. “No. Let’s talk later.”

  “At the beach? Because there’ll be a lot of privacy there with ten people wanting attention and to be fed and watered. And here…” He gestured to the dots of kayaks getting closer, but still far enough away not to hear a word they were saying. The slow slop of the sea against fiberglass the only sound. “Can’t get a word in… with all this peace and quiet.”

  “Oh. Okay…well…the thing is… well….Megan’s having second thoughts.” The last few words came out in a hurried garbled stream as if she didn’t want to say such things. He wasn’t sure he’d understood her.

  “What? Megan’s getting cold feet about marrying Bas?” His best mate was about to face a nightmare? How the hell to deal with this? But Emma’s gaze darted away from him and he got the feeling this wasn’t what she’d been intending to say at all. She was the world’s most useless liar. The Bas and Megan story was some kind of a cover-up, he wa
s sure. Had she been about to mention that awkward moment earlier? Or bring up the subject of his drinking? Because they hadn’t even touched on that yet. And they would. They always had. In the end. But Bas and Megan? “That was the private thing?”

  She looked down at her hands. “Er…yes. She told me earlier on that she was having jitters.”

  “Nah, those guys are perfect for each other. Jitters about which bit exactly?”

  “About all of it. The whole I do thing. Because we split. Her parents spilt. Her brother and his wife split.” She glanced quickly behind, at the kayaks gaining more distance. Bas and Megan were whooping and waving to the others. They looked happy and content and having lots of fun. Didn’t look as if there was much wrong there. “She’s worried they’re headed the same way.”

  “Before they’ve even started?” Dan shook the whole idea away. Meg and Bas were tight. “It’s probably just hot air. A lot of people go through that before they get married.”

  Emma turned back sharply. “Did you?”

  “Never.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Good to hear.” His gaze locked on to hers because he wanted her to know this. He had never had a single doubt leading up to their wedding day. It was only a long time afterwards that those dark thoughts began to creep into his head in the middle of the night. That he wasn’t giving her what she needed, what she’d signed up for. That if he loved her he had to let her go. So she went.