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What harm would a couple of hours’ eating and chatting cause? It wasn’t as though she was signing up for life. No, she was getting over him for life.
‘Lead on.’
Her heart was safe, she assured herself. He’d already rejected her and they wouldn’t be going back over old ground.
Her sigh was long and slow. Getting over him had seemed straightforward when she’d left Auckland. She wasn’t falling for that trick this time. It was going to take time and patience and toughness—starting with spending time with him.
* * *
‘Bugsy’s gone!’ Aaron hollered at the top of his lungs.
How could such a small body create so much noise?
‘We’re nearly home, buddy. I’ll get him for you then.’ Michael took a quick look in the rearview mirror at the following headlights. Stephanie?
A streetlight shone on the red paintwork of the racy little number that she drove. Surprise lifted his mood. Gave him a warm, fuzzy moment. As if he needed a woman’s attention...
Stephanie isn’t just any woman.
Therein lay his problem. He helped others—did not expect the same in return. When he’d promised his father to look out for his half-sisters he’d believed his dad would love him more. Wrong. His father loved each of them—but not enough to stay around.
Likewise his ex-wife. She’d told him he’d failed her, hadn’t lived up to the promises he’d made on their wedding day. He still didn’t understand that—unless she’d meant he hadn’t been supposed to change careers and move away from the fame and glamour of rugby to a set of ugly scrubs.
‘I want Bugsy now!’
Ouch. His ears hurt. It used to be better when Aaron couldn’t talk.
‘Quieten down, buddy. I can’t reach him while I’m driving so you’ll have to wait.’
Reasoning with this lad was pointless, but he kept trying day in, day out, in the hope that eventually Aaron would start to understand that not everything would go his way all the time. Not that it helped when his half-sister immediately undid all his work by spoiling the kid rotten. It should be his role as uncle to spoil him, but someone had to be the sensible one in this family and it seemed the cap was made for him.
‘Bugsy! Bugsy! Bugsy!’
It would have been funny if the stuffed monkey’s name hadn’t got louder with each utterance and tiny feet hadn’t been pummelling the back of Michael’s seat.
He chose to ignore the outburst. They usually didn’t last long, and tonight he wasn’t in the mood for an argument that would go nowhere. Tonight he wanted to indulge himself for a change. To allow some ‘me’ time with Stephanie. Not that he intended anything more than catching up on what she’d been up to since heading to Queenstown—and maybe learning why she was now a paramedic and not doing the job she’d loved so much.
Turning into his wide drive, he held his breath. Released it when her car pulled up beside his. She hadn’t done a bunk. Which probably meant she was more upset than she realised.
He was under no illusions that she wanted to spend time talking about those babies and how lucky they’d been so far. But why had she been so distressed? He’d seen her deal with losing patients, young and old. Once he’d had to pull her away from giving CPR when there had been no chance of bringing their patient back to life. Yet he’d never seen that level of despair and pain in her eyes.
‘Bugsy!’ A solid kick in the back of his seat.
‘Aaron, that’s enough. We’re home now, and we’ve got a visitor. A nice lady you can say hello to.’
Lifting his nephew out of the seat, he had to hold tight as Aaron wriggled around to see who this stranger was. The lad loved people—knew no fear about approaching anyone. Only a good thing if the world was full of kind souls.
Stephanie flipped her key-lock and joined them, those slim legs and just right breasts filling her green and black uniform in ways the designers wouldn’t have planned on. Her gaze trolled the front of his massive house.
‘I’d forgotten how grand this place is. You did well getting your hands on it.’
Forget hands. It had taken a load of hard-earned money, and then some, but it had been worth every cent. Pride filled his chest. It was a very special house—one that had sucked him in the moment he’d seen it from this very spot. It was tucked neatly into a gentle slope, making the most of its location, while inside the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the view over Waitemata Harbour, and the deck was the best place in the world to sit and relax after an arduous day in the department.
‘I bought it when I quit rugby and began studying full-time. Figured it would be a good investment and there’d be no temptation to fritter away my money over the years until I started earning again.’
‘You played professionally—I remember. Why give up?’
Her gaze left the house to cruise his shoulders and chest, headed lower. To his thighs.
At least that was where he presumed her intense gaze was now fixed. Even if it was the concrete he stood on, his groin had tightened anyway. He cursed silently.
For the second time that day he explained. ‘Rugby wasn’t a career that’d take me into old age.’
The left side of her mouth lifted. His belly joined in on the tightening act.
‘Can I carry anything?’ she asked as he juggled Aaron and the bag of necessities that went everywhere his nephew did.
‘I’ve got it.’
‘You’re a dab hand at this,’ Steph quipped as he managed to unlock the front door and not drop child or bag. ‘Had lots of practice?’
There was more to that question than the obvious. ‘Only with this guy.’
That should stop any ideas she might be getting about him and any kids he might have.
The wind rustled the bushes and the drizzle got wetter. ‘Come inside before it starts bucketing down.’
‘I want Bugsy!’ Aaron cried.
Oh, hell.
When he should have been retrieving the toy he’d been focused on watching Stephanie clamber out of her car, noting those legs he had X-rated memories of and that perfectly rounded butt.
‘Bugsy!’
‘Hang on, buddy. I’ll get him in a minute.’ First he had to unload onto the entrance table.
‘Something I can do?’
‘There’s a stuffed monkey in the back of my car. Under my seat, I think.’
‘I’ll grab it.’
‘Thanks.’
Car tyres squealed on his driveway. Chantelle. And in a foul mood, judging by the flat mouth and glittering eyes. Stephanie was about to learn more about his private life than she’d ever wanted to know.
‘Michael, when are you going to stop interfering in my life?’
‘Mummy!’ Aaron wriggled out of his arms and trotted to Chantelle.
‘Hey, baby.’ Chantelle might be angry with him, but there was only love in her eyes when she swung her boy up into her arms. ‘How’s my darling?’
‘Chantelle, I want you to meet—’
The love dipped as she yelled, ‘I didn’t ask you to pick him up. So I’ll say it again. When are you going to stop interfering in my life?’
When you
stop expecting me to... When you stand on your own two feet all the time.
‘They phoned from the daycare centre to say you hadn’t turned up and they couldn’t get hold of you.’
He held on to his own temper, knowing from experience that losing it wouldn’t help a thing—especially when Chantelle was in one of her rages. A quick glance across to Stephanie and his stomach curdled at her shocked expression.
‘Chantelle, can we—?’
‘That doesn’t mean you can charge in and take over. I got there before they closed. That’s all that matters,’ Chantelle ranted.
No mystery about where Aaron got his lungs from.
Michael closed his eyes, dug deep for composure—because right about now he was going to lose it, and that couldn’t happen. What sort of example would that set for Aaron? Plus, he most definitely did not want Stephanie seeing him getting angry.
‘Mike, you’ve got to stop taking charge all the time.’
The octave levels had dropped, and Chantelle was using ‘Mike’, meaning he was in for a lecture.
She began placing Aaron in the car seat in her own vehicle. ‘I’m a good mum. You’ve said so yourself. I hadn’t forgotten Aaron—I just got caught up with a tutor going over my last paper and time got away. It happens—and not just to me.’ She stabbed the car’s rooftop with a finger. ‘I never forgot about him, and I knew I had to get to the centre before six-thirty.’
He lived with the dread that his beautiful sister would start the slippery slide back into hell and this time take his nephew with her. But she had a point. She was an excellent mother and she didn’t neglect Aaron—she loved him to bits.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
The door slammed, and then she was belting herself into her seat and revving the engine. At least she had the sense to back out slowly, and her speed down the drive was careful. Just as it should be with a three-year-old on board.
