by Amy Andrews
There wasn’t any response from Emma—Lola didn’t expect there would be—just the steady rise and fall of her chest and the rapid blipping of her monitor. Lola smiled at Barry as she withdrew her hand. ‘Just put your hand where I had mine, okay? There’s nothing you can bump there.’ Barry tentatively slid his hand into place and Lola nodded. ‘That’s good. Now just talk to her.’
Lola moved away but not very far, hovering until Barry became more confident. He didn’t say anything for a moment or two and when he started his voice was shaky but he started. ‘Hey, Emsy.’ His voice cracked and he cleared it. ‘I’m here and... I’m not going anywhere. You’re in good hands and everything’s going to be okay.’
Lola wasn’t entirely sure that was true. She knew how fragile Emma’s condition was and part of her was truly worried her patient wasn’t going to make it through the shift. But humans needed hope to go on, to endure, and she’d certainly been proved wrong before by patients.
Barry was doing the right thing. For him and for Emma.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SO? WHEN ARE you going to settle down?’
Hamish sighed at his sister, who was slightly tipsy after a few glasses of champagne. They were sitting on the balcony of their new apartment, which was also in Manly but at the more exclusive end, with harbour views. Marcus had moved out of his apartment near Kirribilli General when he and Grace had decided to move in together because they’d wanted an apartment that was theirs.
‘God, you’re like a reformed smoker. You’re in love so you want everyone else to be as well.’
Grace smiled at Marcus, who smiled back as he slid his hand onto her nape. Hamish rolled his eyes at them but it was obvious his sister was in love and he was happy for her. She’d had a tough time in her first serious relationship so it was good to see her like this.
‘You’re thirty, Hamish. You’re not getting any younger. Surely there has to be some girl in Toowoomba who takes your fancy.’
‘There’s no point getting into a relationship when I’m hoping to spend a few years doing rural service after the course is done.’
Hamish had recently been passed over for a transfer to a station in the far west of the state because he didn’t have an official intensive care paramedic qualification, even though he had the skills. It had spurred him to apply for a position on the course.
‘It’s hardly fair to get involved with someone knowing I could be off to the back of beyond at a moment’s notice,’ he added.
Grace sighed in exasperation. ‘Maybe she’d want to go with you.’
Unbidden, an image of Lola slipped into his mind. He couldn’t begin to imagine her in a small country town. She’d cornered the market in exotic city girl. She was like a hothouse flower—temperamental, high maintenance—and the outback was no place for hothouse flowers.
Women had to be more like forage sorghum. Durable and tough. And although Lola was tough and independent in many ways, there was something indefinably urban about her.
‘I don’t know whether you know this or not, but you’re a bit of catch, Hamish Gibson. Good looking even, though it pains me to admit it. Don’t you think so, Marcus?’
Grace smiled at her fiancé, a teasing light in her eyes. ‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, his expression totally deadpan. ‘I was just saying that very thing to Lola the other day.’
Lola.
It seemed the universe was doing its best to keep her on his mind. ‘And did she agree?’ Hamish was pretty sure Marcus was just making it up to indulge his sister but, hell, if they’d had a conversation about him, then Hamish wanted to know!
‘Of course she’d agree,’ Grace said immediately. ‘Lola can pick good looking out of a Sydney New Year’s Eve crowd blindfolded.’
Hamish grinned at his sister. ‘I’ll have to remember that this New Year.’
Something in Hamish’s voice must have pinged on his sister’s radar. Apparently she wasn’t tipsy enough to dull that sucker. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze zeroed in on him. ‘No, Hamish.’
‘What?’ Hamish spread his hands in an innocent gesture.
‘You and Lola would not be good for each other.’
Hamish grabbed his chest as if she’d wounded him. ‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re too alike. You’re both flirts. You like the conquest but suck at any follow-through. You have to live together for two months, Hamish. That’s a lot of awkward breakfasts. And I don’t want to be caught in the middle between you two or have my friendship with Lola jeopardised because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.’
Hamish didn’t think Lola would be the one who’d get burned in a relationship between the two of them. He at least was open to the idea of relationships—she, on the other hand, was not. He glanced at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. ‘Help me out here, man.’
Marcus laughed and shook his head. ‘You’re on your own, buddy.’
‘C’mon, dude. Solidarity.’
Grace shook her head at her brother. ‘In an hour I’m going to take my fiancé to bed and do bad things to him. You think he’s going to side with you?’
Hamish glanced at a clearly besotted Marcus, who was smiling at Grace like the sun rose and set with her, and a wave of hot green jealousy swamped his chest. He wanted that. What his sister had found with Marcus.
Contrary to apparent popular opinion, he’d never been opposed to settling down. He just hadn’t found the right woman. For ever was, after all, a long time! But watching these two together...
They were the perfect advertisement for happily ever after.
Once upon a time the idea of eternal monogamy would have sent him running for the hills but these two sure knew how to sell it.
‘Okay. Well, that was TMI.’ He gave the lovebirds an exaggerated grimace. ‘And is definitely my cue to go.’
He stood, but his sister wasn’t done with him yet. ‘I mean it, Hamish. I wouldn’t have suggested you move in with Lola if I thought you’d make a move on her.’
‘I’m not going to,’ he protested.
Clearly, Grace didn’t believe him. ‘She’s off-limits, okay?’
He was much too much of a gentleman to suggest Grace have this conversation with her bestie who had all but jumped him three months ago. But it did annoy him that somehow he was the bad guy here. ‘I think Lola can take care of herself.’
Grace shook her head at his statement, thankfully a little too tipsy to read anything into his terseness. ‘She comes across that way, I know. Brash and tough and in control. But she feels things as deeply as the next woman.’
A memory of Lola’s glistening eyelashes flashed on his retinas, the weight of her sadness about her patient as tangible now as it had been that night. Hamish sighed. Yeah. He knew how deeply Lola felt.
‘Lola and I are roomies only.’ He moved around to his sister and kissed her on the top of her head. ‘Thank you for dinner.’ She went to stand but he placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You guys stay there. I can let myself out.’
Grace squeezed the hand on her shoulder. ‘Good luck on Monday. Ring me and let me know how your first shift went.’
‘I will.’ Hamish shook Marcus’s hand. ‘Goodnight.’
He left them to it, happy that his sister had found love but pleased to be away from their enviable public displays of affection.
* * *
Lola enjoyed about five seconds of contentment when she woke on Sunday morning before she remembered who was sleeping in the room across the hallway.
The feeling evaporated immediately.
She rolled her head to the side. Nine thirty. Normally she’d stretch and sigh happily and contemplate a lazy Sunday morning. No work to get to. No place to be. Her time her own.
Normally she’d walk down to one of the cafés that lined the Manly esplanade to eat smashed avocado and feta on rye bread while she wa
tched people amble past. Maybe even stay in bed, read a good book. Or sloth around in front of the television, watching rom coms and eating Vegemite toast.
But she wasn’t going to be able to sloth around for the next two months. Because Hamish was here.
Lola stared at the ceiling fan turning lazy circles above her. It was dark and cool in her room as it was on the western side of the apartment but the prediction was for a warm day. She strained her ears to hear any movement from outside.
Was he up?
Lola shut her eyes as that led to completely inappropriate thoughts and a strange dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Do not think about Hamish being up, Lola.
Was he out of bed? That was more appropriate. She couldn’t hear any noises but she’d bet her last cent he was. He was a country boy after all. And she’d known enough of them in her life to know they liked their sunrises.
Ugh. Give her a sunset any day.
Gathering her courage, she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. She had to face him some time. She couldn’t spend the next two months avoiding him like she had yesterday, running out on him about twenty minutes after he’d arrived and nodding a quick hello to him last night before heading to her room with the excuse of being tired.
So just get out there, already, and face him!
Dressing quickly in a simple floral sundress with shoestring straps, Lola pulled the band on her plait and fluffed out her hair a little. She’d left it in overnight to help with knot control and to tame the curls to a crinkly wave instead of a springy mess.
But that was it—she refused to make herself pretty for Hamish. Normally when meeting a guy she’d put on some make-up, spray on her favourite perfume and wear her best lingerie. Today she was wearing no make-up, she smelled only of the washing powder she used on her clothes and she deliberately chose mismatched, comfortable underwear.
Not that he was in the kitchen or the living room when she made an appearance and, for a second, a ribbon of hope wound through her belly before she flicked her gaze to the balcony to find him sitting at the table. Resigned, Lola poured two glasses of juice, slamming most of hers down before topping it up and wondering if it was too early for a slug of vodka.
Pulling in a steadying breath, she picked up the glasses and went out to make polite conversation. He turned as she slid the screen door open. Her heart was practically in her mouth as she prepared herself for her body to go crazy again but the incredibly visceral reaction from yesterday didn’t reappear and Lola smiled in relief.
It had clearly been an anomaly.
He smiled back and her belly swooped but it was still an improvement on yesterday. Plus, he was sitting there shirtless. A damp pair of running shorts clinging to his thighs was the only thing keeping him decent and that was up for debate.
‘You’ve been for a run?’ Lola gave herself full marks for how normal she sounded as she slid his glass across the tabletop. She was going to need to channel a lot of that if he was planning on walking around here shirtless very often.
‘Yep.’ He lifted the glass as if he was toasting her and swallowed the whole thing in several long gulps. Gulps that drew her gaze to the stretch of his neck and those gingery whiskers. ‘Thanks.’ He put the glass on the table. ‘I needed that.’
She noticed he had an empty water bottle by his elbow.
‘I can get you some more.’ Lola stood. She needed a moment after that display of manliness. Escaping to the fridge seemed the perfect excuse.
He waved her back down. ‘Nah. I’m good.’
‘So you...run every morning.’
‘Not every morning. But regularly enough. I figured it was a good way to get to know the neighbourhood.’
‘Did you make it to the beach?’
‘Yep. Ran along the esplanade. It’s very different to the scenery I’m used to.’
It was about five kilometres to the beach so he’d already run ten kilometres this morning. While she was sleeping. She’d have felt like a sloth if she was capable of feeling anything other than lust.
‘A lot more beach, I’d imagine.’ Toowoomba was a regional inland city, well over a hundred kilometres to the nearest beach.
‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘Are you a runner?’
It was Lola’s turn to laugh. ‘I’m more of a hit-and-miss yoga in the park kinda gal.’ If she was going to get hot, sweaty and breathless, she could think of much more satisfying ways to do it. Preferably naked.
‘I saw a group doing that.’
‘Yeah, there’s a regular morning and afternoon class not far from the beach.’
Lola hadn’t been in a while. Who knew, maybe living with Mr Exercise would guilt her into being more energetic herself and she was clearly going to need to put her sexual energy somewhere. Just sitting opposite him was hell on her libido.
‘What are your plans for the day?’ Time to move the conversation to safer territory.
He shrugged those big bare shoulders and Lola resisted the urge to stare. ‘Thought I’d do a bit of sightseeing. It’s pretty full on for the next couple of weeks. Might take me a while to get out again.’
‘That’s a great idea. It’s not your first time to Sydney, though?’
‘No. I’ve been a few times but until recently not for almost ten years.’
Lola only just stopped herself from gaping at Hamish. Ten years? Had he been anywhere in a decade? ‘So you’ll be doing the usual, then? You saw the bridge a few months ago, probably more intimately than anyone in the city, actually. You should definitely climb it while you’re here.’
Lola had climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge several times. She loved the rush of adrenaline that heights gave her. That any kind of precarious situation gave her—from white-water rafting to bungee jumping to zip lining.
The thrill. The buzz. It was better than sex.
It was also why she was such a good ICU nurse. She knew how to ride the adrenaline in critical situations. She appreciated how it honed her reactions and sharpened her focus. She thrived on how well she anticipated orders, knowing what was going to be asked for even before it was, putting her hand to something a second before the doctor wanted it.
‘I’d love to climb it. It’s on my to-do list. Today I was just going to get a ferry across to Circular Quay and check out the Opera House and Darling Harbour.’
Lola glanced at the layers of blue sky crowning the ancient trees in the park opposite, pleased for the distraction from his body. ‘It’s a good day for it. And an easy walk into the city from there.’
Especially for someone who’d just run ten kilometres. And had those legs. And those abs. And that chest.
Bloody hell.
‘Grace’s favourite haunt is the Rocks area; you’ll find a lot of old convict-era stuff there. You can walk it or jump on one of those hop-on, hop-off buses.’
‘And what’s your favourite haunt?’
Lola’s breath caught at the tease in his tone and the flirt in his smile. ‘Sydney’s such a beautiful city, it’s hard to choose.’
‘Oh, come on.’ He rolled his eyes at her. ‘You must have a place you love more than any other.’
She did. But... ‘My favourite place is not a tourist spot.’
‘Ah. It’s a secret? Even better.’
Lola smiled at him—she couldn’t not. He was hard to resist when he was teasing, so endearingly boyish. He must have broken some hearts in high school.
‘Not a secret. It’s just a street I really love.’
‘Does this street have a name? Spill, woman.’
Lola laughed. This was better. If she could hide behind some friendly teasing and banter the next couple of months might not be so awkward. ‘I find these things are more meaningful if you stumble across them yourself.’
He snorted. ‘I’m here for two months. How long did it tak
e you to find it?’
She smiled. ‘About two years.’
‘Well, then.’ He stood and Lola’s pulse fluttered. ‘I insist you take me there. Today. And I solemnly swear...’ he slapped a clenched fist against his sternum, which was dizzily distracting ‘...to keep it a secret, on pain of death.’
Lola hadn’t shown anyone her spot. Well, she’d told Grace and May about it but neither of them had seen it yet and she’d never really wanted to share it with a guy. She couldn’t have borne it if he’d been dismissive of something that was essentially girly.
But, surprisingly, she wanted to show Hamish. Maybe she was being influenced by the whole country-boy thing but she had a feeling he appreciated nature and that he’d understand why she loved it so much.
And she hadn’t checked it out this season yet so what better way to visit than playing tour guide? Plus it would occupy the day and give them a chance to establish a rapport that wasn’t sexual. After today they’d probably pass like ships in the night—the hazards of shift work—so starting as she meant them to go on was a good idea.
‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘But only because this is actually the most perfect time of year to see it.’
‘Well, that sounds even more intriguing. I’ll just have a quick shower. Give me fifteen minutes.’
Lola’s gaze followed him into the apartment. Broad shoulders swept down to a pair of fascinating dimples just above the waistband of his shorts. Two tight ass cheeks filling out said shorts in a way that almost made Lola believe in miracles.
And possibilities.
She tried really hard not to imagine him stripping off and stepping into the shower, water clinging to his body, running everywhere, wet and soapy and slippery.
She failed dramatically.
CHAPTER FIVE
WITHIN HALF AN hour Hamish was following Lola onto one of the harbour’s iconic yellow and green ferries, enjoying the way her sundress fluttered around mid-thigh and the way she kept scooping up her right shoulder strap as it slipped off repeatedly.