Christmas with the Single Dad

by Louisa Heaton

  Nathan nodded. ‘Okay. What about sleeping? Are you doing all right?’

  ‘Not bad. I’ve lost some sleep, but I guess that’s down to stress. My mind won’t rest when I go to bed.’

  ‘That’s understandable. If it gets difficult then come and see me again and we’ll look at what we can do.’

  ‘How long do you think I’ve got, Dr Jones? My dad died young from this; I need to know.’

  Nathan wanted to reassure him. Wanted to tell him that he would live a long life and that it would all be fine. But he couldn’t know that. He had no idea how Sam’s Huntington’s would affect him. It affected each sufferer differently. Just like multiple sclerosis did.

  ‘It’s impossible to say. You’ve just got to take each day as it comes and live it the best you can. Then, whenever the end does arrive, you’ll know you lived your life to the fullest.’

  Sam smiled. ‘Is that your plan, Doc?’

  Nathan smiled back. It certainly was. Living his life and trying to be happy was his number one aim. And he wanted the people around him to be happy too. The fact that he’d upset Sydney the way he had... Perhaps that was why he had asked her to coffee.

  ‘It is.’

  * * *

  Sydney stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘What on earth am I doing?’ she asked herself.

  Her make-up was done to perfection. Her eyeliner gave a perfect sweep to the gentle curve of her eyelid. The blusher on her cheeks highlighted her cheekbones and her lipstick added a splash of colour, emphasising the fullness of her lips. Her eyelashes looked thicker and darker with a coating of mascara, making her grey eyes lighter and clearer. Her normally wavy hair had been tamed with the help of some styling spray, and the earrings in her ears dangled with the blue gems that had once belonged to her grandmother.

  She looked completely different. Done up. Like a girl getting ready for a date. Like a girl who was hoping that something might happen with a special guy.

  It’s just coffee! Why have you put in this much effort? Is it for him?

  Grabbing her facial wipes, she rubbed her face clean, angry at herself, until her skin was bare and slightly reddened by the force she’d used upon it. She stared back at her new reflection. Her normal reflection. The one she saw every day. The one bare of pretence, bare of cosmetics. Mask-free.

  This is me.

  She was not getting ready for a date! This was coffee. Just coffee. No strings attached. They were just two people meeting. Associates. She did not have to get all dressed up for a drink at The Tea-Total Café.

  So she pulled the dress off over her head and put on her old jeans—the ones with the ripped knees—slipped on a white tee and then an oversized black fisherman’s jumper and scooped her hair up into a scruffy bun, deliberately pulling bits out to give a casual effect. Then she grabbed her bag, thick coat and scarf and headed out, figuring that she’d walk there. It wasn’t far. The wind might blow her hair around a bit more. She would not make any effort for Dr Jones.

  Striding through the village, she hoped she looked confident, because she wasn’t feeling it. She had more nerves in her stomach now than she’d had taking her driving test or her final exams. Her legs were weak and her nerves felt as taut as piano strings.

  It was all Dr Jones’s fault—that charming smile, those glinting blue eyes, that dark chestnut hair, perfectly tousled, just messy enough to make it look as if he hadn’t touched it since rolling out of bed.

  She swallowed hard, trying not to think of Dr Jones in bed. But Sydney could picture him perfectly...a white sheet just covering his modesty, his naked body, toned and virile as he gazed at her with a daring smile...beckoning her back beneath the sheets...

  Stop. It.

  She checked her mobile phone. Had the surgery been in touch? A last-minute patient? An emergency surgery, maybe? Something that would force her to attend work so she didn’t have to go? But, no. Her phone was annoyingly clear of any recent messages or texts. She was almost tempted to call the surgery and just check that things were okay—make sure no cows on the nearby farms were about to calve. Right now she’d be much happier standing in a swamp of mud or manure with her arm in a cow’s insides. Instead she was here.

  She stood for a moment before she entered, psyching herself up.

  The bell above the door rang as she went inside and she was met by a wall of heat and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Praying he wouldn’t be there, she glanced around, ready to flash a smile of apology to the staff behind the counter before she ducked straight out again—but there he was. Dashing and handsome and tieless, dressed in a smart grey suit, the whiteness of his shirt showing the gentle tan of his skin.

  He stood up, smiling, and raised a hand in greeting. ‘Sydney. You made it.’

  Nervous, she smiled back.

  Dr Jones pulled a chair out for her and waited for her to sit before he spoke again. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d like. What can I get you?’

  He seemed nervous.

  ‘Er...just tea will be fine.’

  ‘Milk and sugar?’

  She nodded, and watched as he made his way over to the counter to place her order. He looked good standing there. Tall, broad-shouldered. Sydney noticed the other women in the café checking him out. Checking her out and wondering why she might be with him.

  You can have him, ladies, don’t worry. There’s nothing going on here.

  He came back moments later with a tray that held their drinks and a plate of millionaire’s shortbread.

  She was surprised. ‘Oh. They’re one of my favourites.’

  He looked pleased. ‘Mine too. Help yourself.’

  She focused on making her tea for a moment. Stirring the pot. Pouring the tea. Adding sugar. Adding milk. Stirring for a while longer. Stopping her hand from shaking. Then she took a sip, not sure what she was supposed to be talking about. She’d been quite rude to this man. Angry with him. Abrupt. Although, to be fair, she felt she’d had reason to be that way.

  ‘So, how long have you lived in Silverdale?’ he asked.

  I can answer that.

  ‘All my life. I grew up here. Went to the local schools. I left to go to university, but came back after I was qualified.’

  She kept her answer short. Brief. To the point. She wasn’t going to expand this. She just wanted to hear what he had to say and then she would be gone.

  ‘And you now run your own business? Did you start it from scratch?’

  ‘It was my father’s business. He was a vet, too.’

  ‘Does he still live locally?’

  ‘No. My parents moved away to be closer to the coast. They always wanted to live by the sea when they retired.’

  She paused to take another sip of tea, then realised it would be even more rude of her if she didn’t ask him a question.

  ‘What made you come to live in Silverdale?’

  ‘I grew up in a village. Loved it. Like you, I left for university, to do my medical training, and then after Anna was born I decided to look for a country posting, so that Anna could have the same sort of childhood I had.’

  She nodded, but knew he was glossing over a lot. Where was Anna’s mother? What had happened? Anna wasn’t a baby any more. She was five years old, maybe six. Was this his first country posting?

  Who am I kidding? I don’t need to know.

  Sydney gave him a polite smile and nibbled at one of the shortbreads.

  ‘My name’s Nathan, by the way.’

  Nathan. A good name. Kind. She looked him up and down, from his tousled hair to his dark clean shoes. ‘It suits you.’

  ‘Thanks. I like your name, too.’

  The compliment coupled with the eye contact was suddenly very intense and she looked away, feeling heat in her cheeks. Was it embarrassment? Was it th
e heat from the café’s ovens and the hot tea? She wasn’t sure. Her heart was beginning to pound, and she had a desperate desire to start running, but she couldn’t do that.

  Nor could she pretend that she was relaxed. She didn’t want to be here. She’d said yes because he’d put her on the spot. Because she hadn’t been able to say no. Best just to let him know and then she could go.

  She leaned forward, planting her elbows on the desk and crossing her arms in a defensive posture.

  ‘You know...this isn’t right. This. Meeting in a coffee shop. With you. I’ve been through a lot and you...’ she laughed nervously ‘...you make me extremely uncomfortable. When I met you yesterday, in your surgery, I was already on edge. You might have noticed that. What with your doctor’s degree and your—’ she looked up ‘—your incredible blue eyes which, quite frankly, are ridiculously much too twinkly and charming.’

  She stood, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

  ‘I’m happy to help you with your daughter’s rabbit, and I’ll be the consummate professional where that poor animal is concerned, but this?’ She shook her head. ‘This I cannot do!’

  She searched in her bag to find her purse. To lay some money on the table to pay for her tea and biscuit. Then she could get out of this place and back to work. To where she felt comfortable and in control. But before she could find her purse she became aware that Nathan had stood up next to her and leaned in, enveloping her in his gorgeous scent.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Standing this close, with his face so near to hers, his understanding tone, his non-threatening manner, his apology... There was nothing else she could do but look into his eyes, which were a breathtaking blue up close, flecked with tones of green.

  She took a step back from his gorgeous proximity. ‘For what?’

  ‘For what I said to you. In our consultation. My remark was not intended to insult you, or the memory of your daughter, by suggesting that you could get over it with the help of...’ he swallowed ‘...warm milk. But you were my first patient, and I knew you were in a rush, and I got flustered and...’ His voice trailed off as he stared into her eyes.

  Sydney quickly looked away, aware that the other customers in the café might be watching them, sensing the tension, wondering what was going on.

  ‘Sydney?’

  She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing, before she turned back to meet his gaze. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I promised this was just coffee. We’ve had tea and shortbread which may have changed things slightly, but not greatly. So please don’t go. We’re just drinking tea and chomping on shortbread. Please relax. I’m not going to jump your bones.’

  ‘Right.’ She stared at him uncertainly, imagining him actually jumping her bones, but that was too intense an image so, giving in, she sank back into her seat and broke off a piece of shortbread and ate it.

  Her cheeks were on fire. This was embarrassing. She’d reacted oddly when all he’d expected was a drink with a normal, sane adult.

  She glanced up. He was smiling at her. She hadn’t blown it with her crazy moment. By releasing the steam from the pressure cooker that had been her brain. He was still okay with her. It was all still okay. He wasn’t about to commit her to an asylum.

  ‘I’m out of practice with this,’ she added, trying to explain her odd behaviour. ‘Could you please pretend that you’re having tea with a woman who behaves normally?’

  He picked up his drink and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘I’ll try.’

  She stared back, uncertain, and then she smiled too. She hadn’t scared him off with her mini-rant—although she supposed that was because he was a doctor, and doctors knew how to listen when people ranted, or nervously skirted around the main issue they wanted to talk about. Nathan seemed like a good guy. One who deserved a good friend. And good friends admitted when they were wrong.

  ‘I’m sorry for walking out on you like that yesterday.’

  ‘It’s not a problem.’

  ‘It is. I was rude to you because I was unsettled. I thought you were going to ask questions that I wasn’t ready to answer and I just wanted to get out of there.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you made me nervous.’

  ‘Doctors make a lot of people nervous. It’s called White Coat Syndrome.’

  She managed a weak smile. ‘It wasn’t your white coat. You didn’t have one.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It was you. You made me nervous.’

  He simply looked at her and smiled. He was understanding. Sympathetic. Kind. All the qualities she’d look for in a friend.

  But he was also drop-dead gorgeous.

  And she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HE WAS SITTING there trying to listen to Sydney, hearing her telling stories of veterinary school and some of the cases she’d worked on, but all he could think about as he sat opposite her was that she was so very beautiful and seemed completely unaware of it.

  It was there even in the way she sat. The way she held her teacup—not using the handle but wrapping her hands around the whole cup, as if it was keeping her warm. The way her whole face lit up when she laughed, which he was beginning to understand was rare. He’d wondered what she would look like when she smiled and now he knew. It was so worth waiting for. Her whole face became animated, unburdened by her past. It was lighter. Purer. Joyous. And infectious. Dangerously so.

  And those eyes of hers! The softest of greys, like ash.

  He was unnerved. He really had just wanted to meet her for this drink and clear the air after yesterday’s abrupt meeting in his surgery. And to thank her for helping Lottie after her attack. But something else was happening. He was being sucked in. Hypnotised by her. Listening to her stories, listening to her talk. He liked the sound of her voice. Her gentle tone.

  He was trying—so hard—to keep reminding himself that this woman was just going to be a friend.

  Sydney worked hard. Very hard. All her tales were of work. Of animals. Of surgeries. She’d not mentioned her daughter once and he knew he couldn’t. Not unless she brought up the subject first. If she wanted to share that with him then it had to be her choice.

  He understood that right now Sydney needed to keep the conversation light. This was a new thing for her. This blossoming friendship. She was like a tiny bird that was trying its hardest not to be frightened off by the large tom cat sitting watching it.

  ‘Sounds as if you work very hard.’

  She smiled, and once again his blood stirred. ‘Thank you. I do. But I enjoy it. Animals give you so much. Without agenda. Unconditionally.’

  ‘Do you have pets yourself? It must be hard not to take home all the cases that pull at your heart strings.’

  ‘I have a cat. Just one. She’s ten now. But she’s very independent—like me. Magic does her own thing, and when we both get home after a long day she either curls up on my lap or in my bed.’

  Her face lit up as she spoke of Magic, but she blushed as she realised she’d referenced her bed to him.

  A vision crossed his mind. That long dark hair of hers spread out over a pillow. Those almond-shaped smoky eyes looking at him, relaxed and inviting, as she lay tangled in a pure white sheet...

  But he pushed the thought away. As lovely as Sydney was, he couldn’t go there. This was friendship. Nothing else. He had Anna to think about. And his health.

  He had no idea for how long he would stay relatively unscathed by his condition. His MS had been classified as ‘relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis’. Which meant that he would have clear attacks of his symptoms, which would slowly get better and go away completely—until the next attack. But he knew that as the disease progressed his symptoms might not go away at all. They would linger. Stay. Get worse w
ith each new attack, possibly leaving him disabled. But he was holding on to the thought that it wouldn’t happen soon. That he would stay in relative good health for a long time.

  But he could not, in any good conscience, put anyone else through that. Who deserved that?

  And he had a child to think about. A child who had already lost her mother because of him. Who did not know what it was like to have that kind of female influence in her life. Bringing someone home would be a shock to Anna. It might upset her. It might bring up all those questions about having a mother again.

  Sydney Harper was just going to be his friend.

  That was all.

  He smiled as she talked, trying not to focus all of his attention on her mouth, and pushed thoughts of what it would be like to kiss her completely out of his head.

  * * *

  Later, he offered to walk her back to work.

  ‘Oh, that’s not necessary. You don’t have to do that,’ she protested.

  ‘I might as well. I’m heading that way to pick up my pager as I’m on call tonight.’

  She nodded her reluctant acceptance and swung her bag over her shoulder. Together they exited into the street.

  It was a cold November day. With blue skies, just a few wispy white clouds and a chill in the air when they moved into the shade and lost the sun.

  They walked along together, respectfully a few inches apart. But she was so aware of him and trying her hardest not to be.

  Nathan Jones was delicious. Of course she was physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? Aside from his good looks, this man was intelligent. A good listener. Not at all judgemental. He’d seemed really interested in her. He’d asked questions without being too probing and really paid attention to her answers.

  She was very much aware that although they had just spent an hour in each other’s company she still didn’t know much about him. They’d both edged around serious subjects. They’d both avoided talk of past traumas and upsets. And they’d both kept everything light. Unthreatening. No mention of the baggage that each of them had to be carrying.