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Chapter 21
“It’s my birthday in two weeks,” Carts said as he bounded into the kitchen, pulling off his tie and throwing it on the bench top. Solo was cooking himself a quick omelette before heading off for the last of the Wednesday night PTSD groups.
“I’ve decided to have a party, on the Saturday night.” Carts’ grin was that of a man who had experienced a Eureka moment on the way home from work.
“Is that a warning to make myself scarce?” Solo asked, tipping the omelette onto a plate. Carts’ face took on an expression of hurt. “No, mate, it’s an invite.”
Solo smothered a smile. “Dinner party?”
“Nah, cooking’s not my thing. Drinks, nibbles.” Carts’ features took on a slight flush. “Just, um, thought it’s time to give my social life a bit of a kick-start.”
He put his case down by the door and shucked his long arms out of his jacket. “You’re seeing Polly tonight, aren’t you, at that group thing you run?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Can you ask her?”
Solo stiffened. They’d been back in odd work mode since the weekend. Frankly, it was getting to him. “We’re not dating, you know.” Then he kicked himself for even saying it.
Carts’ brown eyes widened in surprise. “Never said you were.”
Solo sat down and shovelled omelette into his mouth. “Sure, I’ll tell her,” he said, and quickly changed the subject.
As he left the kitchen a short while later, Carts said airily, “Back to the party issue. It’s just I’ve asked Judith and er, you know, don’t want to look too keen, so if you and Poll are there too, as my friends, no wires crossed, get my meaning.”
“Right, got it,” Solo said, and zoomed out the door like all the bats of hell were in hot pursuit.
When he arrived at the community centre half an hour later, most of the participants were there and Polly was arranging Tim Tams on a plate in the kitchen. She gave him her “we are only professionals working together do not forget that” smile.
He flashed his teeth back at her. This was their last group together. Ben would be back next week, and since they’d called a truce, it was like they both had to work extra-hard at being colleagues to be sure that nobody would guess they were anything but. The result was this awkward spiky energy between them.
He sighed.
“Tim Tams again?”
She shrugged. “You can’t go wrong with Tim Tams, can you?”
“Any no-shows?”
“No, I think since you came on the scene full attendance has been pretty much a given. You’re popular, Dr J.”
“Thanks. By the way, before I forget”—he cast a furtive glance into the room but the participants were laughing and talking among themselves—“Carts is planning a party Saturday week. For his birthday. He’s invited you, and me. Not as a couple or anything. And Judith, of course. Guest of honour, I think.”
Polly rolled her eyes. “God, he does not let up, that guy.”
“Are you playing romance police?” It was hard to keep his irritation from surfacing.
Polly crushed the Tim Tam wrapper, opened the pedal bin with her foot and shoved it in. “It’s just that I’ll have to pick up the pieces when it goes pear-shaped.”
He swallowed the irritation bubble. “They’re grown-ups, I’m sure they’ll work it out. Here, do you want me to take some cups out?”
“Sure.”
He put the cups and teabags on the tray and took the plate from her, carefully avoiding their fingers touching. They hadn’t touched since Sunday morning when she’d tapped his arm before he rode off on his motorbike.
He ached for her.
With a sudden surge of courage, he moved along the bench until their bodies nearly touched and she seemed to move into him a little. Their elbows nudged, and a little bit of electric magic travelled up his arm, into his scalp. Her perfume made his head spin, like a man deprived of oxygen.
