by Annie O'Neil
They meant the world to him. Reminded him he had a heart.
“What I do there is different. There’s no need to try and rack up bonus karma points to prove you’re good at your job. You already are.”
She wheeled on him as the elevator doors opened then closed. “You mean you can act like an actual living breathing human being with them but not with me? Fine. Suits me. Once these elevator doors open feel free to take it in whichever direction you like—except mine.”
Where the hell had that come from? He’d only been trying, in his usual clumsy way, to... Wait a minute. This was all-too-familiar terrain.
Defensiveness. Evasion. Flare-ups followed by pushing the ones you cared about away while deep inside all you really wanted was to be pulled into a deep, reassuring hug and told everything would be okay because you were in a place so dark it was impossible to believe in anything good ever happening again.
She was at war with something that lived deep within her.
Had he become her “someone” she could rail against? The one she was testing?
Despite the fact her entire body was radiating fury, Finn didn’t move. He knew how lonely it felt when a person finally succeeded in pushing everyone who cared about them away.
Damn. He cared.
Despite the twitches to fall back into old habits, he held his ground.
His patience paid dividends.
As quickly as Naomi’s temper had detonated, a few moments of “I’m not going anywhere” eyes from Finn saw the remaining sparks fizzle and all but disappear. She dropped her head into her hands and huffed out a full-bodied exhalation. After a deep breath in, she let them fall.
“Sorry. I—I didn’t mean...” She floundered, trying to find the right words.
His heart softened another notch. Flare-ups were inevitable when the stakes were so high. And there was no doubt about it. Something about Adao had got right under her skin.
Just the same as she had slid right under his.
Two lost souls doing their best to make the world a better place. Sometimes they did good. And sometimes they made a hash of things. Sometimes they did both at the same time.
“C’mon,” he said. “Coffee.” He punched the elevator button again before tipping her chin up so she was looking him straight in the eye. “And a festive pastry. Doctor’s orders.”
He turned back to the elevator, trying to disguise his pleasure at eliciting a smile from her. A small one. But it was a smile, nevertheless.
* * *
Naomi was one part mortified to one part mollified.
Thank goodness they were outside, walking along the river where there were all sorts of other things and people to look at besides the tall, dark-haired, increasingly intriguing doctor she’d just verbally flayed.
Whoops.
Having a meltdown in front of someone—especially a surgeon—wasn’t really her style. Particularly as it hadn’t even been about something to do with a patient. This was a hundred percent personal and he knew it. He hadn’t rubbed it in, though. For someone whose forte wasn’t “cuddly bear”—at least at the hospital—it touched her to see that kind heart she knew he buried under his bluff and bluster rise to the surface.
She blew on her latte before taking a sip of the cinnamon-and-nutmeg-sprinkled drink, sighing as the warm liquid slid down her throat.
“Hit the spot?” Finn asked.
“Yes. And thank you. I’m really sorry—”
“Uh-uh.” Finn tutted. “You’ve already apologized seven times. That’s my limit.” He stopped and pointed off the path toward a wooden bench made of green sleepers nestled in a sun-dappled copse of silver birches. “This is a good spot.”
“You know all the good ones?” A feeble joke, but he gave a little laugh nonetheless. Generous, considering she’d not been showing her best face for the past half-hour. A rare slip.
He gave a vague wave along the towpath. “I live a bit further down the river, so I do actually know all the good spots.”
“You live on the river?”
“Literally.” He grinned. “Houseboat.”
“A houseboat?” She didn’t even try to hide her shock. “You.”
“Yup. My family moved a lot when I was a kid—military—and I guess life on the move suited me.”
“A houseboat?” Naomi couldn’t even begin to picture it. Finn was so tall and powerfully built and...well...it was easier to picture him striding across the sprawling slate floors of a huge stone castle than a houseboat.
Finn laughed a full, rich guffaw. “What? You don’t think little old me could fit on a houseboat?” He gave her a quick scan then dropped his volume a notch. “You’d be surprised what I can do when I set my mind to it.”
Naomi flushed and looked away. Courtesy of Finn Morgan, she’d been surprised quite a few times recently. She had little doubt he could achieve whatever he wanted when he put his mind to it. He’d already pulled at the seams of her perfectly constructed life and exposed her weak spots. No one had done that since she’d arrived in the UK. Not even the emergency refugee staff who’d seen her at her shell-shocked worst when she’d arrived from Zemara. It was as if from the moment she’d arrived she’d had to prove she was worth even the tiniest kindness.
Her foster mother, Charlotte Collins, had been the only one in those early days who she’d felt hadn’t been judging her. Her compassion and support had meant so much to her it was why Naomi had legally taken her surname. At that point, to survive, she had needed to look forward. And Charlotte had given her the strength to do so.
Which had been why standing by and doing nothing when Adao had been crying had near enough destroyed her. Little wonder she’d gone on the defensive when Finn had followed her out. She’d been braced for all sorts of words to come hurtling at her: coward, failure, weak, worthless.
But he’d not said a single one of them. Instead, he’d shown her patience. Kindness. And now this...a chance to talk without any pressure.
Following his lead, she took a seat on the bench and sat back to take in their surroundings.
The little woodland nook looked as though it had been designed by Hollywood. Frozen beads of water clinging to the silvery bark shone in the watery sunlight. The river quietly susurrated in the distance as joggers wove their way around couples—old and young—walking alongside the river’s towpath. A hoar frost had coated everything overnight and it had yet to melt. Even though the sky was a clear blue today, it was cold and everyone was wearing hats with fuzzy bobbles or silly Christmas jumpers. Or both. No doubt about it. There was a festive buzz in the air. So different from the chaos swirling away in her chest.
“He got to you.” Finn’s voice was warm. Kind. “Sometimes that happens.”
He fell silent, clearly waiting for her to fill in the blanks. Explain why Adao in particular had rattled her otherwise happy-go-lucky cage.
She couldn’t go down that path. Not when it already felt as if she was being sucked into a black hole that would lead her straight back to that horrible day when her entire life had changed forever. A hit of iron-rich earth and palm fronds filled her nostrils so powerfully she bit the inside of her cheek and drew blood.
After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Finn, no stranger to keeping himself to himself, realized he wasn’t going to get her life story. He hitched his good knee up on the bench and propped his arm on the back of the bench, chin in hand, so he was facing her.
“Next time you need to lash out at someone, maybe you can leave my baking skills out of it? I don’t want that secret getting out onto the hospital’s gossip train, otherwise the entire surgical staff will be demanding marshmallows like clockwork.”
His comically stern expression teased a smile out of her. The second since she’d lost the plot.
How embarrassing to have just snapped like that. And in front of Finn, of al
l people.
“I’m really sorry—” She stopped herself. “I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s okay. Better in front of me than in front of Adao, right? And look.” He reached out and laid his hand on her arm. “Like I said, it happens.”
She stared at his hand, wondering how such a simple touch could have such a powerful effect on her. Just a colleague giving another colleague a bit of kindness.
But this was Finn Morgan they were talking about. Resident grumpy bear and...well...she was seeing all sorts of differing hues in his “rainbow” these days. In fact, he had a rainbow...not just a set of crackling thunderclouds!
She stared out toward the towpath and tried to collect her thoughts. What he’d said was true. It was impossible to be completely neutral at all times. After all, he’d cleared the entire viewing gallery during Adao’s operation. Even so, she wasn’t feeling particularly proud of herself right now and being on the receiving end of his surprisingly gentle touch was disconcerting. She shrugged her arm away from his hand, disguising the move as a need to give her arms a brisk double rub.
“Cold?”
“No. I mean yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m always cold here.”
“Cambridge or the UK?”
“Both.” She frantically thought of a way to nip the direction this conversation was heading in the bud. “But I have an affection for thermalwear so, really, living here suits me to a T!”
Thermalwear? What are you talking about?
Finn didn’t press. Either he was completely repulsed by the idea of her in woolen underwear or...oh, no. Was he thinking of her in her underwear? Worst conversation dodge ever.
“So...how do you deal with it?” Naomi tucked her hands into her pockets.
“What? Not let my heartstrings get yanked out of my chest each time I deal with an emotional patient?”
He wasn’t patronizing her. He was stating a bald reality of being in the medical profession. Emotions were high. Keeping one’s cool was essential. They were health care providers, not family.
“Tell me. What’s the ‘Morgan Technique’?” She genuinely wanted to know. For the first time in her professional life it seemed impossible.
He didn’t even pause to think. “Easy. I think of my dad.”
Naomi’s heart squeezed tight at the faraway look in Finn’s eyes. He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t have to. It was enough to hear the warmth in his voice to know he loved him.
Her dad was the reason she’d pushed herself so hard when she’d moved to the UK. “Me too.”
The admission was out before she thought better of it. What an idiot. Saying something like that only invited more questions.
“Mr. Collins?” Finn asked. Inevitably. “Was he a physio as well?”
Naomi shook her head. “And Collins wasn’t his name.”
Why do you keep telling him private things?
“Wasn’t?” Finn asked quietly.
Yes. Past tense. She was the only surviving member of her family.
She ignored the question and instead said the family name she’d not spoken in over a dozen years. “Chukwumerije.”
“That was your original surname?”
Yes. It had been.
“A tough one for the British tongue to force into submission,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone light. She put on an English accent and mangled her name a few times. Finn’s laugh echoed throughout the little clearing. He had little crinkles by his eyes. She’d never noticed those before.
An intense need to tell him the whole story took the laughter from her voice.
“There was actually a woman. A lovely woman. Charlotte Collins. She was my foster mother when I came here. Without her...” Naomi’s voice cracked and she pressed her fist to her lips to stem a sob of gratitude.
Finn nodded. He got it. She didn’t need to spell out just how important compassion was. Kindness.
“Say it again,” he asked gently. “Your Zemarian surname.”
It was strange, feeling the taste of her own name on her tongue.
For years using the new name had felt like the worst kind of betrayal and also the most generous of blessings.
She’d been granted a new life. A chance to become everything she’d ever dreamed of. But it had only come to pass because of the deaths of those she’d loved most.
Now? Here with Finn? The name felt like a disguise. All part of the chirpy, got-it-together facade she wore day in, day out to keep the demons at bay.
Finn had been mulling over her name. He gave a few aborted starts on mimicking her pronunciation before miming throwing in the towel.
She laughed softly. “When my mother said it, it sounded like poetry. Stella Chukwumerije. She used to say it as if she were royalty.”
He raised his eyebrows. The question in his eyes asked one thing and one thing only: Where were they now?
The fact she’d probably never know haunted her dreams every single night.
“My mum’s name means star, so sometimes...” She let the rest of the thought remain unsaid as her gaze lifted upwards. Looking up at the stars and believing that maybe, just maybe, her mother was looking down at her offered her solace. Most of the time.
At least Adao’s family was alive and well.
An idea sparked. “What if we went onto the internet? Or asked the charity if they have a picture of his parents—maybe them all together as a family. We could put it in a frame for him. I could run and get something from the charity shops now.”
Finn smiled as if she’d just handed him a present. “That’s a great idea. I’ll leave you to the running bit.” He pointed at his knee.
“Is it acting up?”
He tipped his head side to side.
The gesture could’ve meant any number of things.
Yes. No. It always hurts, but I’m a man, so...
“You know—” An offer to give him a massage was just about to fly off the tip of her tongue when he held up a hand.
“I know. I know.” Unlike the last time she’d offered help, his defenses didn’t fly into place. There might have even been a bit of gratitude in those hard-to-read eyes of his.
In this light they were like sparkling like ice crystals with amber hits of flame...
Oh...
Naomi’s body heat shot up a few degrees as their gazes caught and snapped the pair of them into a heightened awareness that blurred everything around them.
Heart. Lungs. Throat. Breasts. Lips. Her hair was aware of Finn. Even more so when he turned toward her on the bench, his knee gently shifting against hers.
It was one of the most sensual feelings she had ever experienced.
Which was ridiculous.
Right?
But it didn’t feel ridiculous at all. Not with his face so close she could reach out and trace a finger along the fullness of his lower lip before—
No.
She didn’t do this. She didn’t deserve this. And especially not with a man who came with a complicated past.
His gaze on her own lips was virtually palpable. Her body responded against her will, the tip of her tongue dipping out and licking her lower lip, vividly aware that the only thing separating them was a handful of centimeters and air.
Abruptly, she swiveled so that she was facing the towpath and pressed her knees together.
“It must be nice to have Charlie to confide in after all you’ve been through.”
“What?” Finn shook his head as if not entirely understanding what had broken the spell.
An all-too-familiar deadweight of anxiety began gnawing at that indescribably beautiful ball of heat in her belly and turned it into a churning mass of guilt.
“You know.” She heard herself continue, regretting each word as it arrived. “After things changed with your wife.”<
br />
“Ex-wife,” Finn bit out, his body language instantly registering the change of mood. “We’re divorced.”
A cold wind blew in off the river, grazing the surface of her cheeks. A welcome sensation as they were burning with embarrassment.
Finn pushed himself off the bench, his good leg all but launching him toward the towpath.
She remained glued to the bench, in shock at her own—what was it? Stupidity? Common sense?
No. It was worse than that. It was fear. Fear of allowing herself to feel true happiness.
“I’m heading back. Going to do a quick check on Adao before I go into surgery for the rest of the afternoon.”
He didn’t ask her if she was going to join him, but he didn’t power ahead as she’d imagined he might.
Silently they headed back to the hospital.
* * *
“Aren’t you going in?” Amanda flicked her head in Finn’s direction as he went into Adao’s room.
Naomi shook her head. She was more off kilter than when she’d left the room half an hour earlier.
Had she and Finn almost kissed?
“He’s not been Captain Grumpy again, has he?”
“Finn? No. Not all. He’s—”
“Uh-oh... I see the tides might’ve shifted where Mr. Morgan is concerned.”
Naomi gave Amanda her best “are you crazy” look then went to hover at Adao’s doorway, where Finn was talking with Mabel.
“Absolutely we do, Finn. What a lovely idea. I’ll just send a little message through on this thingamajig here and see if they can’t do it today.” The gray-haired woman pulled a mobile phone out of her cardigan pocket and held it out to him, clearly having no intention of sending the message herself.
Finn gave Naomi a quick nod where she was hovering in the doorway. “You still up for getting Adao a frame?” He looked at the little boy whose tears had now dried. “Would you like that, pal?”
Adao nodded, his tear-laced eyes wide with anticipation.
“Right. I guess we’d better send the office a message.”
She watched as he made a show of trying to get the tiny phone to obey his large fingers, even managing to draw out giggles from both Adao and Mabel.