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“No, not at all. We’re still very good friends. We met when she came backpacking through Ireland, got a job at the local pub. I fell for her the minute I saw her, and she me. But we were so young, just babies, really. As we grew older, we realized we wanted different things in life.”
“What sort of things?” Georgie asked curiously.
“Children.”
“You don’t want kids?”
“I do. I sure do. But Sharon didn’t. So now she’s wrestling crocodiles in one hundred percent humidity and I’m having a fascinating conversation with a beautiful woman.” He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He felt Georgie pull away, into herself. Also not one for compliments, then. He’d have to remember that. Although it might be hard to hold back on them, pretty as she was. Thinking that he wanted to see her smile again, he wracked his brains for something to say that would make her. The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel stopped him.
“Hi! I was just bringing Georgie some dinner but I see I didn’t have to.” Juniper smiled as she stepped into the light from the porch.
“Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” Georgie protested.
“It was no problem. I just added a bit extra to what we were having. Gnocchi in sage and butter sauce. I’ll pop it in your fridge and you can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“That’s so lovely. Thank you. I’ll walk back with you.” Georgie pushed to her feet and reached for her walking cane. As he stood up, Ryan smothered the twinge of disappointment that the evening was over by reminding himself that he’d be seeing her again soon. She turned to him with a smile that had his gut tightening. “Thank you so much for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. Any time.” He helped her step off the deck, forcing himself to back off as she moved away from him. He would have scooped her up and carried her down the path so she didn’t have to walk it if he thought she’d let him. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
As he watched her go, he felt determination settle in his gut. Georgie Quinn was desperately in need of help. And he was just the man to give it to her.
* * *
Georgie woke with a soft, sea breeze tickling her face. She’d left the cabin door open all night, relishing the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs. It was so different from the sounds of her Caulfield flat. She lay in bed for a long moment, taking inventory. Her hip definitely hurt more than usual, still not fully recovered from the drive, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and checked the time. Nearly nine o’clock. She’d slept late. Throwing back the blanket, she sat up and moved her legs carefully over the edge of the bed. Holding onto her ever-present cane, she pushed to her feet, testing the weight on her bad leg. It was a morning ritual she was really starting to tire of. She sighed and got dressed before hobbling over to the kitchen counter to make coffee. She knew she should have breakfast, but she just couldn’t stomach it. Holding her coffee cup carefully, she moved across to the sliding door, holding her cane awkwardly so she could open it. As she stepped through the door, she glanced up. Her heart skipped a beat. Ryan, sitting on a low stool in front of an easel, about ten feet away. His back was to her as he looked out over the ocean. He must have heard the door open because he turned and looked at her. He smiled. Her heart thudded.
“Mornin’.” He pushed to his feet.
“Hi.”
“Would you like to sit out here, in the sunshine?” Georgie hesitated. She would like to, very much. But after their conversation the night before, when they’d had dinner, he might want to ask probing questions. Plus, he pulled at her and she wasn’t sure about that, either. Felt she had to resist it. He stepped towards her, stopping a few feet away, searched her face. “Do you want me to go away?”
“No,” she said instantly. Should she have said yes? She sighed. Yep, she sure was confused.
He smiled again. “I’ll move your chair out here, then.”
“Okay.” She followed him as he carried the recliner over, putting it on the ground, not too far away from the easel.
He took her coffee, holding it while she lowered herself carefully onto the recliner. He’d adjusted the back so she wasn’t lying down too much. “Have you had breakfast?” He asked as he handed her back the coffee. She shook her head. He had a cooler bag next to his easel. He took a savory muffin out of it and handed it to her. “Eat this.” There was an unexpected note of command in his tone. Georgie went to argue but there was something in his eyes that stopped her. He watched while she pulled off the grease proof paper and took a bite. Then, clearly satisfied, he sat down on the low stool and turned away from her, picking up his paint brush.
Georgie looked at the canvas and gasped. “I thought you were a doctor.”
He flicked her a glance of surprise. “I am a doctor.”
“Then how can you paint like that?”
He grinned at her and turned back to the canvas. He’d painted a vivid landscape, capturing the vibrant blue sea and rising sun. It was stunning. “I’ve been doing it a while.”
“It’s very good.”
“Thanks.”
He fell quiet then, so Georgie did too. Finishing her coffee and muffin, she settled back on the recliner with her legs up, watching him. She’d probably never get sick of watching him, she thought to herself. The broad shoulders. The strong back. His hands. Holding the paintbrush in a firm but delicate grip. And that was her problem. He was too good looking for her own good. “What kind of doctor are you?”
He didn’t answer at first. Waited so long to answer that Georgie thought he wasn’t going to. “I’m a rehabilitation physician,” he finally replied without looking at her. “I own a rehab center. It mostly caters to returned veterans, but we do take on other cases as well. The Shawn O’Shannessy Rehabilitation Centre.”
“Oh.” She felt her stomach turn. He’d waited so long to reply because he knew she would understand. The kind of doctor he was, was the exact kind of doctor she kept getting referred to. The exact kind of doctor whose referrals she ignored.
