Dare She Date the Dreamy Doc?

by Sarah Morgan

  Lifting the bottle to his lips again, he watched as Evanna sprinted across the sand to meet Jenna—watched as she gave her a spontaneous hug and gestured with her hands, clearly telling her some anecdote. He had no idea what she was saying, but it had Jenna laughing, and her laugh was so honest and genuine that Ryan felt every muscle in his body tighten. He doubted Jenna had ever manipulated a man in her life. She wouldn’t know how—and anyway, such behaviour would go against her moral code.

  As they approached he could hear Evanna admiring Jenna’s skirt, the conversation light and distinctly female in tone and content. Jenna responded in kind, handing over a bowl of rosy-red strawberries and chatting with the group gathered around the food table as if she’d been born and raised on the island.

  It took less than a few seconds for him to realise that she was looking at everyone but him. Talking to everyone but him.

  Aware of Evanna’s puzzled expression, Ryan sighed. If he didn’t do something, the situation would be taken out of his hands.

  He strolled over to Jenna, who was busily sorting food on the long trestle table, carefully ignoring him.

  ‘Where’s Rebel?’ Ryan felt the ripple of tension pass through her body and she carefully put down the bowl she was holding.

  ‘Lexi has him on a lead. I thought all those sausages and steaks on the barbecue might prove too much of a temptation for a dog with a behavioural problem.’

  ‘You could be right.’ He noticed that her cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink and that she was making a point of not looking at his mouth.

  No, he thought to himself. Jenna would never play games or manipulate. She was honest and genuine—surprisingly unsophisticated for a woman in her thirties.

  Lexi strolled up to the table, earphones hanging from her ears, her iPod tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, her head bobbing to the rhythm. She was hanging on to Rebel, who was straining to run in the opposite direction. ‘Hi, Ryan.’

  Jenna looked embarrassed. ‘Dr McKinley—’

  ‘Ryan is fine.’ He bent down to make a fuss of Rebel, who looked him in the eye and immediately sat.

  ‘Mum, did you see that? He sat without even being told!’ Lexi gaped at the dog. ‘Given that he’s behaving, you can hold him. I’m going to see my friends.’ Without waiting for a reply, she pushed the lead into her mother’s hand, took the cola Evanna was offering her with a smile of thanks and strolled across the sand to join a group of teenagers who were chatting together.

  ‘I have a feeling it was a mistake to bring a dog—this particular dog, anyway—to a barbecue.’ Gripping the lead until her knuckles were white, Jenna was still concentrating on Rebel. ‘Hopefully your influence will prevail and he’ll behave.’

  ‘I think you may have an exaggerated idea of my power.’

  ‘I hope not or I’m about to be seriously embarrassed.’

  ‘I think you’re already embarrassed.’ Ryan spoke quietly, so that he couldn’t be overheard by the people milling close to them. Keeping his eyes on her face, he watched her reaction. ‘And there’s no need to be. Just as there was no need to run off yesterday morning and avoid me all day in surgery.’

  She took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Rebel. Then she glanced sideways and checked no one was listening. Finally, she looked at him. ‘I haven’t kissed, or been kissed, for a long time.’

  ‘I know.’ He watched as the tension rippled down her spine.

  ‘I wasn’t sure how I felt about it— I mean—’ Her colour deepened. ‘Obviously I know how I felt, but I wasn’t sure what it all meant. I hadn’t expected—’

  ‘Neither had I.’ Suddenly he regretted starting this conversation in such a public place. He should have dragged her somewhere private where he could have matched actions with words.

  ‘Everyone is trying to pair us up.’

  ‘I know that, too.’

  ‘Doesn’t that put you off?’

  ‘I didn’t kiss you because it was what other people wanted, Jenna. I kissed you because it was what I wanted.’ And he still wanted it, he realised. Badly. Maybe two years of self-imposed isolation had intensified his feelings, but he had a feeling that it was something more than that.

  ‘Is everyone watching us now?’

  ‘Ignore them. What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘What are you drinking?’

  ‘Ginger beer,’ he said dryly, ‘but I’m on call. How about a glass of wine?’

  She hesitated for a moment, and then something sparked in her eyes. ‘Actually, I’d like a beer,’ she said firmly. ‘From the bottle. Don’t bother with a glass.’

  Hiding his surprise, Ryan took a bottle of ice-cold beer from the cooler and handed it to her. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought. She certainly didn’t strike him as a woman who drank beer from a bottle.

  ‘Thanks. Cheers.’ Her grin was that of a defiant child, and she took a large mouthful and proceeded to spill half of it down her front. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’

  Struggling to keep a straight face, Ryan rescued her beer before she spilt the rest of it. ‘You haven’t done that before, have you?’

  Pulling a face, she tugged her wet tee shirt away from her chest. ‘What a mess! Everyone is going to think I’m an alcoholic.’

  ‘Alcoholics generally manage to get the alcohol into their mouths, Jenna. I gather your husband was more of a wine in a glass sort of guy?’ Ryan put their drinks down on the table and grabbed a handful of paper napkins.

  ‘How do you know what my husband drank?’

  ‘It’s a wild guess, based on the fact you seem to be doing the opposite of everything you ever did with him.’ He pressed the napkins against the damp patch, feeling the swell of her breasts under his fingers.

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘You got yourself a dog, you’re drinking beer from the bottle for the first time in your life, you eat fish three times a week and you never used to eat fish—’ He could have added that she’d kissed a man who wasn’t her husband, but he decided it was better to leave that alone for now.

  ‘How do you know how often I eat fish?’

  ‘Hamish mentioned it.’

  Her gasp was an astonished squeak. ‘The islanders discuss my diet?’

  ‘The islanders discuss everything. You should know that by now.’

  ‘In that case you should probably let me mop up my own wet tee shirt.’ She snatched the napkins from his hands, their fingers brushing. ‘If we’re trying to kill the gossip, I don’t think you should be doing that.’

  ‘Do you care about the gossip?’

  ‘I care about Lexi hearing the gossip.’

  ‘Ah—’ He noticed the pulse beating in her throat and knew she felt the attraction as strongly as he did. He retrieved his bottle from the table. ‘Can I get you something different to drink?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ There was humour in her eyes. And determination. ‘I’m not a quitter. If you can drink from the bottle without dribbling, then so can I.’ She lifted the bottle carefully to her lips and this time didn’t spill a drop.

  His body throbbing, Ryan stood close to her. ‘You were late. I thought you weren’t coming.’

  ‘I was working in the garden, and then Lexi had to change her outfit four times. And I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea…’ She paused, staring at the label on the bottle. ‘This stuff is disgusting.’

  ‘It’s an acquired taste. And now?’

  ‘I still don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’ve never been so confused in my life.’

  Evanna was back at the table, rearranging salads and plates. Ryan saw the happy smile on her lips and ground his teeth. Suddenly he felt protective—Jenna ought to be able to get out and spread her wings socially without being made to feel that everything she did was being analysed and gossiped about.

  He was about to intervene when Kirsty, Evanna’s six-year-old daughter, sprinted across the sand and launched herself at Lexi. ‘Lex—Lex, I want to show you my swimming.’

/>   Ryan watched as the teenager stooped to pick the little girl up. ‘Wow. Lucky me. I can’t wait to see.’ She was a million miles from the moody, sullen teenager who had dragged her feet off the ferry a month before.

  The little girl’s smile spread right across her face as she bounced in Lexi’s arms. ‘I can swim without armbands.’

  ‘Really? That’s cool.’

  ‘Watch me.’

  ‘Please would you watch me.’ Evanna tipped dressing from a jug onto a bowl of salad leaves. ‘Manners, Kirsty.’

  ‘Pleeeease—’

  Lexi grinned. ‘Sure. But don’t splash me. It took me ages to get my hair straight.’ Her face suddenly turned scarlet, and Ryan glanced round and saw Fraser strolling across the sand towards them, a lopsided grin on his face.

  ‘Hey, if it isn’t the city girl.’ He wore his board shorts low on his hips and carried a football under his arm. ‘We were wondering when you were going to get here. You going to swim for us, Kirst?’

  Ryan felt Jenna tense beside him and saw Lexi’s shoulders stiffen.

  ‘This is my mum—’ She waved a hand awkwardly towards Jenna. ‘This is Fraser.’

  ‘Hi, Fraser.’ Jenna’s voice was friendly. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Hi, Mrs Richards.’ With an easy smile Fraser pushed his sun-bleached hair out of his eyes and kicked the football towards his friends. ‘Evanna, is it OK if we take Kirsty swimming?’

  ‘You’d be doing me a favour.’ Evanna didn’t hesitate. ‘Don’t let her get her own way too often.’

  With Kirsty still in her arms, Lexi slid off her shoes and walked barefoot across the sand with Fraser. Close, but not touching.

  Watching Jenna sink her teeth into her lower lip, Ryan sighed. ‘Relax.’

  ‘Lexi isn’t old enough to have responsibility for Kirsty. I’d better follow them.’

  He wondered who she was worried about—Kirsty or her own daughter.

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Evanna said calmly. ‘Fraser is very responsible. The beach here is pretty safe, and Ryan can keep an eye on them—he’s the strongest swimmer round here.’ Smiling, she gave Ryan a little push. ‘Go on. You’re on lifeguard duty.’

  Ryan glanced at Logan, who was expertly flipping steaks on the barbecue.

  ‘Your wife is a bully.’

  ‘I know. I love a strong, forceful woman, don’t you?’

  It was a flippant remark, with no hidden meaning, but Ryan felt his jaw tighten as he considered the question. He liked a woman to be independent, yes. Strong? He had no problem with strong—he knew from experience that life dealt more blows than a boxer, so strong was probably good. But forceful? Was forceful a euphemism for selfish and single-minded? For doing absolutely what you wanted to do with no thought for anyone else? If so, then the answer was no—he didn’t like forceful women.

  The question killed his mood, and he was aware that Jenna was looking at him with concern in her eyes.

  ‘I’ll keep you company. You made me buy a swimming costume so I might as well use it.’ She put her drink down. ‘If you’re really on lifeguard duty then you can come in the water with me. It’s so long since I swam I’m probably going to need my own personal lifeguard.’

  Wanting to escape his thoughts, Ryan put his drink down next to hers. ‘All right.’

  They walked across the sand and she quickened her pace to keep up with him.

  ‘You seem upset.’ She kept walking. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Startled by her insight, Ryan frowned, his eyes on the sea, where Lexi was dangling a shrieking Kirsty in the water. ‘What could be wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just thought—you seem very tense all of a sudden. I thought maybe you needed some space.’ She took a deep breath. ‘If you want to talk to someone, you can talk to me.’

  Ryan turned his head in astonishment and she bit her lip, her smile faltering.

  ‘I know, I know—men don’t like to talk about their problems. But you’ve listened to me often enough over the past month—I just want you to know that the friendship works both ways.’

  ‘Friendship?’ He realised that he was looking at her mouth again, and the strange thing was he didn’t need to look. He’d memorised everything about it, from the way her lips curved to the soft pink colour. ‘Is that what we have?’

  ‘Of course. I mean, I hope so. You’ve certainly been a friend to me since I arrived here.’

  He stared down into her eyes and something shimmered between them. Something powerful. So powerful that if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of a crowded beach with the entire population of Glenmore watching he would have kissed her again.

  Unsettled by his own feelings, Ryan shifted his gaze back to the sea. ‘I don’t have any problems.’ His tone was rougher than he’d intended and he heard her sigh.

  ‘You’ve known me long enough to kiss me, Ryan,’ she said quietly. ‘Hopefully you’ve also known me long enough to trust me.’

  He was about to say that it was nothing to do with trust, but he was too late. She was already walking ahead, her hair tumbling down her back, sand dusting her toes.

  Wondering whether he’d hurt her feelings, Ryan followed her to the water’s edge, relieved when she smiled at him.

  Clearly Jenna Richards didn’t sulk. Nor did she bear grudges.

  Fraser and Lexi were either side of Kirsty, holding her hands and swinging her over the waves while she squealed with delight. All of them were laughing.

  Ryan was about to speak when he caught the wistful expression on Jenna’s face. Her eyes were on Kirsty, and she had that look on her face that women sometimes had when they stared into prams.

  He wondered again why she’d only had one child when she was clearly a born mother. Patient, caring, and unfailingly loving.

  Pain shafted through him like a lightning bolt and he watched as she lifted her skirt slightly and tentatively allowed the waves to lick her feet. With a soft gasp of shock she jumped back, her eyes shining with laughter as she looked at him.

  ‘It’s freezing! Forget swimming. I’ll definitely turn to ice and drown if I go in there!’

  Forcing aside his dark thoughts, Ryan strode into the waves. ‘No way are you using that pathetic excuse.’ He took her hand and pulled her deeper. ‘You get used to it after a while.’

  ‘After losing how many limbs to frostbite?’ Still holding his hand, she lifted her skirt above her knees with her free hand. ‘I’m not going to get used to this. I’m losing all sensation in my feet.’

  ‘What are you complaining about?’ He tightened his grip on her hand. ‘This is a warm evening on Glenmore.’

  ‘The evening may be warm, but someone has forgotten to tell the sea it’s summer. My feet are aching they’re so cold.’ Her laughter was infectious, and Ryan found that he was laughing, too.

  Laughing with a woman. That was something he hadn’t done for a long time.

  He intercepted Lexi’s shocked stare and his laughter faded. She glanced between him and her mother, suspicion in her eyes.

  Jenna was still laughing as she picked her way through the waves, apparently unaware of her daughter’s frozen features.

  ‘We wouldn’t be doing this in London, would we, Lex?’

  ‘Pull your skirt down, Mum,’ Lexi hissed, and Ryan watched as Jenna suddenly went from being natural to self-conscious. The colour flooded into her cheeks and she released the skirt. Instantly the hem trailed in the water. Flustered, she lifted it again.

  ‘Lexi, watch me, watch me—’ Kirsty bounced in the water, but Lexi stepped closer to her mother and dumped the child in Jenna’s arms.

  ‘Here you are, Mum. You take her. You’re good with kids. Probably because you’re old and motherly.’

  Ryan was about to laugh at the joke when he realised that no one was laughing.

  Old and motherly?

  Was that how Lexi saw her mother? Was that how Jenna saw herself?

  How old was she? Thirty-two? Thirty-three? She could
have passed for ten years younger than that. She had a fresh, natural appeal that he found incredibly sexy. And, yes, she was different from Connie.

  His jaw hardened. Connie wouldn’t have paddled in the sea—nor would she have appeared in public with a face free of make-up. And he couldn’t remember a time when she’d giggled. But that might have been because Connie wasn’t spontaneous. She was a woman with a plan and nothing was going to stand in her way. Certainly not their marriage.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re brave enough to swim!’ Jenna was beaming at Kirsty, as if the child had done something incredibly clever. ‘I’m so cold I can barely stand in the water, let alone swim.’ She sneaked a glance after her daughter, who was walking away from them, Fraser by her side.

  ‘I swim with my daddy.’ Keen to demonstrate her skills, Kirsty wriggled in Jenna’s arms and plunged back into the water, thrashing her arms and kicking her legs.

  Drenched and shivering, Jenna laughed. ‘Kirsty, that’s fantastic. I couldn’t swim like that at your age. And never in sea this cold.’ The water had glued the skirt to her legs and Logan looked away, forcing himself to concentrate on something other than the shape of her body.

  A crowd of locals were playing volleyball, and he could see Evanna handing out plates of food. ‘I smell barbecue,’ he said mildly. ‘We should probably go and eat something. Sausages, Kirsty?’

  The child immediately held out her arms to Jenna, who scooped her out of the water and cuddled her, ignoring the damp limbs and soaking costume.

  Ryan felt his body tighten as he watched her with the child.

  It was such a painful moment that when the phone in his pocket buzzed he was grateful for the excuse to walk away.

  ‘I’m on call. I’d better take this.’ He strode out of the water and drew the phone from his pocket. Was he ever going to be able to look at a mother and child without feeling that degree of agony? He answered his phone with a violent stab of his finger. ‘McKinley.’ It took him less than five seconds to get the gist of the conversation. ‘I’ll be right there.’ Even as he dropped the phone into this pocket, he was running.

  Cuddling a soaking wet Kirsty, Jenna watched as Ryan took off across the beach. It was obvious that there was some sort of emergency. Knowing he’d probably need help, she waded out of the water as fast as her soaked skirt and the bouncing child would allow. Once on the sand, she put the little girl down and ran, holding the child’s hand.