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He smiled. ‘Sure you do. I’ll even give you wine. But, just so you know, I’m a bit of a messy cook.’
He pulled two wine glasses out of the cupboard, held them up to the light and squinted at them. ‘I’m just checking that they’re clean. I moved in such a rush that I literally just walked from the flat to this house with things in my arms.’
She shook her head. ‘Riley Callaghan. So far, you’ve told me that you only have three recipes, you’re messy, and now I’m questioning your housekeeping skills.’ She shook her head. ‘If this were online dating, you wouldn’t get a “like”.’
He went into another cupboard and brought out two bottles. ‘But I have wine! So I win. Now, white or red?’
‘I guess for lasagne it should probably be red but I fancy white. Is that okay?’
He opened the bottle and poured the wine, then started pulling ingredients from the fridge.
She took a sip of the wine and relaxed back a little into the chair. ‘I’ll cut you a deal. You let me pick dinner—’ she raised her eyebrows ‘—from a limited menu, of course, and you let me pick the wine. How about I do the clearing up?’
He tipped the mince into a pan to start browning it, giving her a wink from the corner of his eye. ‘My plan has worked.’
April glanced back through to the living room at the little sleeping boy. ‘Will Finn eat this?’
Riley followed her glance. ‘Probably not. I’ll give him it first, but have some chicken on standby in case he doesn’t like it.’ He leaned against the doorjamb as the mince began to sizzle in the pan. ‘I wonder if he’ll wake up at all. It’s been a big day.’ He picked up his glass and took a sip of his wine. ‘Thanks for being there.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s fine. He’s a cute kid.’
She could see the pride on his face. Riley was rapidly turning into a doting dad. He moved back into the kitchen and started chopping an onion.
He was methodical. He added the herbs and tomatoes, then made a quick white sauce. Five minutes later he’d layered up the mix with lasagne sheets, sprinkled with cheese and put it in the oven.
She nodded. ‘I’m impressed. You never struck me as the organised type.’
He sat down opposite her. ‘I didn’t? What’s that supposed to mean?’ He wrinkled his brow. ‘Am I supposed to be offended right now? Because if I am, I’m just too tired.’
She shook her head. ‘For the last four weeks you’ve been racing about the place doing one hundred things at once. The unit isn’t normally like that.’
He pulled a face. ‘I know.’ He sat back a little and looked at her carefully. ‘I’ve been used to working at a frantic pace. I need to step down a gear and get more perspective.’
‘Can you actually do that?’ she asked softly.
He sighed. ‘I hate the way you do that.’
‘What?’
He lifted his hand towards her. ‘You ask the questions that I don’t really want to answer.’ He turned his head into the living room again. ‘The answer to the question has to be yes. And you can see why. I have to change things. I have to be a father to Finn. I’m all he’s got.’
‘But...?’
He groaned and leaned forward, putting his head on the table. His real thoughts were written all over him. She touched his dark hair. ‘You weren’t born to be a rehab doctor, Riley. You want to be where the action is. But if you’re going to have Finn on a permanent basis that will be impossible.’
He looked up a little as she shifted her hand, his bright green eyes peeking out from underneath dark lashes. ‘I love him. I love him already. Finn comes first.’
She bent forward, her head almost touching his. ‘You’re allowed to say it, Riley. But maybe just to me. You’re allowed to say that this life change gives you twinges of regret.’ She licked her lips. ‘Maybe I understand that a bit more than most.’
And she did. She was inches away from a guy a few years ago she would have flirted with, enjoyed his company and maybe even dated. There might even have been more possibilities that right now she didn’t even dare think about.
His face crumpled and he put his head in his hands for a second. He kept his eyes closed as he spoke. ‘Last week I thought I was going on a tour of Sierra Leone. I was looking forward to it. It might sound strange but I love the overseas tours. Always have.’ He opened his eyes slowly. ‘But last week I didn’t know I had a son to come home to. My whole life has changed in the blink of an eye. I’m not sure I was ready for it.’
She spoke carefully, sliding her hand across the table and letting her fingers intertwine with his. ‘Promise me that you’ll only ever talk to me about this. Don’t let Finn know. You’ve had the legs swept from under you. Mallory and I used to call that being cannonballed. It will take a while to get your head around things. To work out what is best, for you and for him. You can do this, Riley. I know you can.’
He looked at their connected fingers. ‘I’d never take out how I’m feeling on Finn. You must know that.’
‘I do,’ she said simply. ‘But I want you to know that it’s okay to feel like that. It’s complicated. If you’re having a bad day you can call me.’
They were touching. Having their fingers intertwined was so much more personal than a brush of the hand. And it was sending a weird stream of little pulses up her arm. Under the bright kitchen lights there was nowhere to hide. Those bright green eyes were even more startling. Last time she’d seen something that green, she and Mallory had been taking a photo of the emerald-tinged sea in Zante at Shipwreck Beach. It was still one of her favourite ever pictures.
The little lines around his eyes gave him character, made her know that he’d seen and done things she never would. There was so much to like about Riley Callaghan, meaning there were so many more reasons to push him away.
So why wasn’t she?
He looked at her, the barest hint of a smile quirking his lips. ‘You mean you’re going to give me your number?’
She frowned. ‘Didn’t I already when I was helping with the funeral arrangements?’
His fingers tightened around hers. ‘Ah, but that was different. That was for practical reasons. This—’ his smile broadened ‘—this sounds like almost giving a guy your number.’
She shook her head and pulled her hand back, surprised by how much she didn’t want to. ‘Don’t get the wrong idea, mister.’ She picked up her glass. ‘You’re supplying the wine and—’ she nodded towards the oven ‘—the food. I’m a practical girl; I’m only nice as long as you’re feeding me.’
Riley laughed. ‘Oh, I have plenty of wine. As long as you’re happy with a limited menu, we can be friends for ever.’
Something warm spread through her. It was like the kind of thing kids said to each other. The kind of thing she and Mallory used to say. Her fingers went automatically to her neck. To the pendant their parents had give
n both girls on their twenty-first birthdays. Two golden hearts linked together. Touching it made her feel closer to her sister. Touching it made her feel that sometimes Mallory wasn’t quite as far away as reality told her.
‘What’s that? It’s pretty.’ Riley noticed her movement straight away.
She hesitated before letting her fingers fall away to reveal what she was touching. ‘It was a gift from my parents.’ She didn’t add the rest.
Her brain started working overtime. What would Mallory have thought of Riley Callaghan? They’d generally had different taste in men. But somehow she knew Mallory would have loved this guy. It was both a comfort and a regret, that her sister wasn’t here to meet him.
Riley leaned his head on his hands and gave her a curious stare. ‘Are you going to tell me anything about yourself, April?’
She caught her breath. She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. ‘What do you mean?’
He counted off on his fingers. ‘Well, I know you’re a physio. I know you’re a good physio—a great one. I’m not quite sure what age you are. Or where you live, although I know it’s close. I know you had a sister. And you like spacemen.’ He gave her a smile. ‘But that’s about it.’
She couldn’t help but be defensive. ‘What exactly do you think you’re entitled to know about me?’
He stood up, his wooden chair scraping on the kitchen floor as he turned around, grabbed a tea towel and pulled the steaming-hot lasagne from the oven.
He didn’t speak as he handed her a plate, some cutlery and a serving spatula. He didn’t seem fazed by her briskness at all; in fact, it almost felt as if he was teasing her now. He sat down opposite and folded his hands on the table. ‘I don’t think I’m entitled to know anything. But I’d like it if you shared.’ He even grinned. ‘For example, my mum and dad are up north. My mother can best be described in terms of weather elements—she goes from snowstorm, sandstorm, whirlwind and tornado. My brother Dan is serving in the army. He’s twenty-seven and can’t wait to meet Finn. He probably is at the same stage of maturity.’
She wanted to smile. She really did. The waft of the enticing lasagne was winding its way across the table to her. He made everything sound so reasonable. But sharing wasn’t the place she wanted to be right now. Sharing about her sister would mean sharing about the disease, and the follow-on questions about genetics. And surgery.
