AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He picked up his phone from the bedside table to check the time and noticed that he'd received a text message in the early hours.
U r an uncle! Queen Elizabeth's hospital. Carol & baby doing fine. Jim.
Tommy stared at the screen in surprise. His little sister had delivered six weeks early. An unexpected bolt of pride hit him. Reaching for his abandoned jeans, he pulled them on quickly, hopping about on one foot, wondering if it was a girl or a boy. A boy, he hoped. He liked the idea of having a nephew. His clothes and shoes were scattered everywhere. He strode about, collecting them, and wondered whether he should wake Kelly.
When he was dressed, he returned to the bedside. It seemed a shame to wake her, especially for what was bound to be an awkward post-one-night-stand good-bye. Given what she had said the night before, she would probably prefer that he didn't. He unplugged his iPod, pushed it into his hip pocket, and then glanced about. The room had been paid for in advance. There was a hostess tray, so, whenever she woke, she could have coffee, shower and leave in her own time. He'd have liked to see her again, but she wouldn't want that. He reached for his leather jacket.
Admit it, his conscience said, it was a mistake—you broke your vow. She wanted sex. She'll only give you the cold shoulder. It was good but it's over.
Running his fingers through his hair, he nodded, but he still felt torn. She was a lot of fun, a truly wild woman. He stepped closer and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. She gave a little snore, and he smiled. Turning away, he pulled his jacket on and quietly left the room.
* * * *
He was gone. Kelly wasn't surprised, but she wasn't sure why she felt a sense of loss. She did though. Why? She hadn't wanted any more than what they had shared. She never did. I don't need a man. Her independence was something she wore like a badge of courage, like a shield. There's no way she wanted to become dependent on another person. Her mother had been destroyed by the breakup of her marriage, and since her father left them when she was five years old, Kelly had never wanted anything from men other than a bit of fun. It was sensible. She called it self-protection.
But even as she sat up in the bed mulling it over, her eyes went to the dent in the sheet where he'd lain, the crease in the pillow where he'd folded it over and tucked it under to get closer to her as they had fallen asleep—and she wished he was there.
Suddenly annoyed, she threw back the sheets and leapt off the bed. "Would have been nice just to say good-bye," she muttered, snatching her clothes up from the floor. Amongst them, she found the abandoned champagne cork. Picking it up, she hurled it at the bathroom door. As she did, the door swung open and she saw a reflection of herself in the mirror from the bathroom. She looked a mess, with her top hastily pulled on and her leather pants hanging from her hand. His fault.
Sometimes she hated looking in the mirror because she saw her mother, heartbroken. They shared the same intensity and the same eyes. Kelly had decided when she was six years old that she never wanted to be heartbroken like that. She'd steeled herself against it.
"Men," she said to herself, vehemently, and began to pull her pants on. Okay, so she had told him she only wanted the night, but they could have pretended to exchange phone numbers. That's what she usually did if she met a bloke she liked, giving him her number and then ignoring her phone, screening each and every call. He could have at least pretended to exchange numbers, at least tried to be polite. She might have even answered the phone for this one.
She was smarting badly. She paced up and down, trying to work off some of her indignation. Letting it go would be the best thing to do, she knew that, but something was niggling at her. She hadn't wanted him to be gone.
You don't need a man, she reminded herself. Nothing to lose, best way to be.
When she was fully dressed, she pushed her hair back and stormed out of the room with her head held high.
* * * *
Tommy observed his little sister holding the new baby, while Jim, the new Dad, stood by looking foolishly happy with his new perma-grin. It was then that Tommy realized how stupid he'd been. So what if Kelly had indicated it was only a one-night stand? He should have made a bigger effort to show he would have been interested in more.
Seeing his sister and Jim so infinitely happy had led him to question himself. Jim and Carol hadn't exactly had an easy beginning, logic pointed out, why should anyone else? They'd run into each other at a holiday resort in Spain, literally. It had been Carol's last night there, and Jim had just arrived. They stumbled into each other in a nightclub. He'd spilled his drink on her but she forgave him. He bought her another. They spent barely an hour together. The next day Carol flew out, and they hadn't even exchanged numbers. His tenacious little sister hadn't let that stop her. She tracked Jim down by telling the story on a London radio station, and Jim had heard her and called.
"Carol, I've got something I have to do, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave."
His sister nodded, and Jim reached over and put out his hand. "Thanks for coming so quickly," his brother-in-law said. "Uncle Tommy." He grinned.
Tommy took his hand, shaking it and saluting. "No worries. I'll come back later
on this evening." He reached over to kiss Carol on the forehead. "Sorry, sis. It's just something urgent I need to attend to, I'll explain later."
"You wanted a nephew," she accused gently, smiling.
"No, I wanted a precocious little madam like my little sis." He'd always called Carol "madam," it was a term of endearment. But he'd called Kelly that too, he remembered, and realized that it had felt right, that's why. Go back to the hotel, bozo.
He stroked the little one's cheek with the back of his finger, feeling somehow clumsy and too big, but needing to communicate with this new member of their family. "She's beautiful."
Carol squeezed his hand, nodding.
Seconds later he jogged out of the hospital and onto the street, waving for a taxi as he did so. "Leicester Square," he shouted as he jumped into the cab.
What the hell was I thinking? He'd had the best night, with a stunning, exciting woman, and he'd just left. He shoved his head in his hands, glancing out of the window every now and then to check on the journey's progress.
When the taxi reached the hotel, he pushed the cash at the driver and darted into reception. He didn't stop to ask. He went straight to the stairs, jogging up to the second floor. His heart sank when he got to the room. The door was open, the laundry cart outside indicating that the room was being made over for the next guests. He stood in the doorway, looking at the empty bed, the sheets still scattered from where she'd pushed them back when she got out of bed. In the bathroom, he could see the maid was busy mopping.
"Excuse me, did you see the woman leave?"
