by JC Harroway
Perhaps she should investigate another course of counselling. The Ruby Challenge, while improving her general fitness, didn’t seem to be having any other benefits. Perhaps it would be different when they finally arrived in the US and the whole thing became a reality. And she’d made some friends. Emily Chalmers, once you scratched beneath the calm professional surface, was a cool chick—intelligent, driven and an amazing humanitarian.
They’d spent most of the weekend discussing Eden’s work with the United Nations and Emily’s stint with VSO as a medical student, discovering they had a few acquaintances in common.
‘I’ve met a cool doctor, one of the other challenge volunteers. You’d like her.’ And Dan? The egg bubble on the wall hazed out of focus. What should she do about Dan? She’d left without goodbyes, sneaking from his room in the early hours—the walk of shame but without the bandy legs. They weren’t in a relationship, thank goodness. Weren’t even lovers. The fact that he was clearly still in love with his wife formed a large part of her attraction to him. But it seemed like a huge nonstarter. What a great pair they made—the girl with intimacy issues, and the guy with performance anxiety.
A noise in the background drew Eden back to her friend’s call. ‘Okay, coming. Eden, I have to go, one of the kids just fell from the monkey bars. Call you later.’
Eden ended the call, her thoughts drifting from Sam’s emergency back to Dan. Always to Dan. Part of her still believed his inability or reluctance in the bedroom was due to revulsion—that small curled-up-in-dark-corner-rocking part of her. But he’d stopped her leaving. And he’d held her in the night, his massive arms holding her close until he’d slipped deeper into slumber and she’d rolled away, too scared to enjoy the experience. The closeness.
The doorbell saved her from further inspection of the egg bubble and she leapt from the sofa, grateful for any interruption, even if it was likely to be the boy next door asking for his football.
Dan stood on the doorstep, clean-shaven and wearing a crisp white T-shirt and shabby jeans. His smile lit up his face, forcing a fist of flutters into Eden’s tight stomach. At least he wasn’t angry with her for running out on him.
‘I brought you this.’ He thrust an envelope at her. ‘You left before Emily could give it to you. I think it’s a medical release form you have to sign before we leave for America.’ He toed the concrete step on the threshold to her home, his eyes dipping with a flash of uncertainty.
Eden took the proffered envelope and tossed it onto the hall table, just inside the door. ‘Thanks.’ She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, about that night, and now he stood on her doorstep. Appealing, sexily casual and wafting a fresh-from-the-shower cloud of fragrance. All coherent speech deserted her.
Say something. ‘Would you like to come in?’ Her face flamed. The last time he’d seen her, she’d just relived the worst day of her life in all its glory.
He lifted one arm, bracing his hand on her doorframe high above his head so the defined muscles of his arm flexed. ‘No, thanks. I’d like you to come out.’
Her head swam like she’d guzzled champagne. ‘What? Why?’
Dan’s mouth twitched. ‘It’s a beautiful day, Archer. My day off. Let’s do something.’ His charming smile danced playfully on his lips and his eyes sparkled. Invitation or challenge?
At her hesitance, he countered, ‘Not a date. Just two acquaintances, hanging out. In the sunshine.’
She wavered. His delicious scent filled her doorway, he’d driven all this way and she had nothing else to do apart from her date with the wallpaper bubble and her dark thoughts.
‘Look, Archer,’ he said.
She was beginning to hate that name from his lips. Why had she insisted he call her that?
‘I could have posted the damn letter. Or not interfered when Emily said she’d email it to you.’ He dropped his hand from the doorjamb and tugged at his earlobe. ‘Just come out with me, okay.’
It was no big deal, right? Nothing Dan did fell into a big deal category. Perhaps now she’d explored and shelved the possibility of a physical fling with him, they could finally be … friends? The head rush of moments ago dwindled away replaced with hollowness. Friends wouldn’t be so bad. She didn’t have many, and Dan was the reliable, trustworthy sort.
‘I’ll just grab my bag.’ She left the door ajar and quickly retrieved her bag and her sunglasses. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, she glanced at the hall mirror, fluffing up her hair before scowling at her flushed reflection. Too late for excitement now, Archer. Welcome to the friend-zone.
Climbing into his Land Rover, she perched the sunglasses on her nose and flipped down the visa. Dan shot her grin as he pulled out into traffic. ‘Comfortable?’
She was a little warm, her long-sleeved top a necessity rather than a choice, but she’d teamed it with the only skirt she owned—a short denim one. ‘Could we have air conditioning?’
He nodded, his easy dimples appearing. ‘Sure.’ His long fingers activated a stream of cool air.
‘Where are we going?’ Eden dragged her stare from the golden hairs dusting his muscular forearm.
‘I thought we could take a drive to Travlock. There’s a market today. Lunch by the river?’ One eyebrow lifted as he twisted his mouth in a cajoling smile.
The picturesque market town, jewel of the Peak District, would be teeming with tourists on a day like today. Good. Definitely nothing date-like about this outing.
During the short, thirty-minute drive, they talked about nothing in particular, the steady stream of banal conversation a balm, soothing Eden’s reservations and her uncharacteristic nerves. She hadn’t been out on a proper date for over a year. Not that this fell into that category. She needed to keep reminding herself.
Dan, for his part, seemed to have abandoned any lingering embarrassment about their night in Wales and was his usual easygoing self.
At the market they wandered the aisles side-by-side, Dan making an early play for her hand, and Eden concealed the shiver of delight snaking up her arm by faking fascination at a stall of homemade jams and chutneys. They purchased matching loaves of crusty artisan bread and Eden selected two identical handmade friendship bracelets for her twin nieces.
By the time they sat at a table on the riverside terrace of a crowded café, Eden’s stomach was hollow and complaining loudly. ‘Sorry about that.’ She placed a hand on her abdomen as if she could silence the rumbles by will alone.
Dan laughed. ‘No worries, I’m starving myself.’ He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and perused the menu.
They ordered and set about admiring the view. Dan broke the silence first.
‘So, what do you enjoy doing when you’re not working, apart from working out, that is?’ He rested his forearms on the table, fixing her with his keen undivided attention. Attention she’d experienced in his bed. Her toes curled.
She took a controlled breath, slowly releasing the air through pursed lips. ‘I read, a lot. Travelling for work, living abroad—it’s kind of limiting in terms of hobbies. Reading is the only consistent thing I can take anywhere. Even more so thanks to ereaders.’ She gulped a mouthful of her water. ‘You?’
‘Well, you’ve seen me do it—I take photographs. In fact, I have my camera in the car. I might have to come back and get a few shots of the ducks.’ He tilted his head towards the flock sunning themselves on the banks of the river.
Eden curled her lips inwards to mask her smile. Dan on his belly on the riverbank, a sight worth seeing. ‘Are you any good?’
He laughed, tossing his head back. ‘I’m not sure—I’ve only been doing it for a year or so—you certainly won’t find my photos on any greeting cards … yet.’ Relaxed, highlighted by the sun and discussing his passion for photography, his attractiveness doubled and Eden had to cross her legs under the table.
Then, just as she’d been enjoying the show, his face fell, as if he had stopped himself saying more. What kinds of photos did he take? At her prolonged pa
use, he continued, his eyes resting on the small vase in the centre of the table.
‘Megan was an amazing photographer. She had a website, showed her work in a gallery. People commissioned her for portraits …’ His fingers toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table, and Eden’s chest tightened. ‘It took me a year, but one day, I picked up her camera, taught myself, fell in love with capturing … this.’ He waved his hand at the view.
Eden, enchanted by this side of him, embraced the silence, uncertain what to say.
Dan shook off his momentary introspection. ‘I’m sorry. I keep bringing her up.’ His eyes flicked to hers, brightening, and he shifted in his seat.
‘That’s okay. Why wouldn’t you?’ Her cheeks warmed. One the one hand, his appeal was heightened by the fact he was still deeply in love with his wife. On the other hand … She didn’t want to pick at those emotions. She and Dan would be friends. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat, forcing a nervous chuckle to cover her conflicted feelings. ‘Although you might want to tone it down once you start … dating again.’ Because they were just friends, right?
Dan’s expression didn’t change, but he stared at her for long penetrating seconds, until she grew hot under his inspection. Memories of his naked body slammed into her head. She felt his fingers between her legs again and squeezed her thighs together to combat the thrum of pleasure. Well that wasn’t friendly …
Their food arrived. Eden directed the conversation to the safety of the Ruby Challenge and travel in general. Before she knew it they were back in the Land Rover for the drive to Derby, her spirits a little heavier than they’d been earlier, despite the ease of sharing Dan’s company.
‘Do you have plans for the rest of the day?’ Her face burned. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want this non-date to end just yet. Dan was so easy to be around and easy on the eye.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. He drove like she imagined he worked, with appealing competence. And her body remembered the proficiency of his skilled hands.
‘It’s my day off.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t usually make plans for my one night off a week.’
‘You work nights?’
‘No, I work a revolving shift at the hospital, but I also volunteer for the Rapid Response Charity most nights.’ His knuckles remained white. He didn’t want to talk about this. Or perhaps she’d scared him off with all her harsh medic bashing.
Genuine interest sparked her curiosity. ‘What’s that?’
His stare slid sideways before returning to the road. ‘It’s a charity that funds a team of first responders—paramedics, nurses, doctors. The idea is to save lives and reduce long-term disability by providing rapid response specialist medical care. The Golden Hour—often we arrive before or just after the emergency services, but we can treat people in their homes, at the roadside, wherever they may be. I volunteer as much as I can.’
Rather than irritating, his altruism intrigued her. In fact it was bloody attractive. He worked fifty hours a week in A&E and managed to squeeze in demanding charity work. The interior of the car fell silent. He’d spent his one day off with her, asking nothing more of her than her slightly guarded company. He’d rescued her from one of her bad days. And she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
She swallowed, her throat scratchy. ‘Wanna catch a movie with me? Or we could hire a DVD?’ Did that sound casual enough? All she could hear was the roar of her own amped-up heartbeat and the voices of doubt chanting in her head.
He glanced sideways, his grin of delight doing something strange to her fluttering stomach. ‘I could do that.’ He dropped one hand from the wheel, his warm fingers finding hers in her lap.
The warm gooey feeling returned to her insides, and she hid her reaction by glancing out of the passenger window at the passing low stone walls. The friend-zone mantra played a continuous loop in her head, but as they travelled the miles back to her house, she couldn’t stop the fizz and pop of excitement that bubbled up from her chest or the sparks of electricity that zapped between their clasped fingers.
Dan’s word’s invaded her reverie. ‘Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I’m going to have to stop.’
Eden peered out of the windscreen at what had drawn his attention. Her stomach dropped through the seat beneath her, and her pulse throbbed painfully in her throat.
The scene ahead clashed so violently with the serene rural setting, Eden almost lost her bearings. Two cars had collided on a bend. They’d come to a stop at the side of the road, their directions askew and their twisted metal eating into the stone wall that lined the roadside. Their half of the carriageway was completely blocked, but the motorists in front of them were simply bypassing the carnage and continuing on their journeys. Several other vehicles had stopped and a few people were clustered around the wreckage, which if the smoke rising from the ruined engines was anything to go by, was relatively fresh.
Dan, focused and grim-faced, pulled the car onto the grass verge a short distance behind the crash site, disengaging his seat belt before the vehicle had come to a complete standstill.
‘I’m sorry.’ His gaze swept her features, a small frown pinching his brows together. ‘Stay here.’ He squeezed her arm, regret haunting his eyes, as he slipped from the relaxed guy he’d been all day into professional medic mode.
Stay here? She couldn’t move if she tried. Cold sweat dotted her top lip and the back of her neck, her brain shutting down to the noises around her as if she existed in a vacuum. She felt the reverberations of the boot slamming through the passenger seat beneath and behind her, and then Dan strode to the nearest car, a backpack slung over one shoulder, already snapping on a pair of latex gloves.
Smoke. It filled Eden’s nostrils, the acrid burn stripping the lining from her shrinking lungs. Her eyes darted to the twisted wreckage. Would the engines explode?
The smoke’s not real. There’s no fire.
The seatbelt seemed to tighten across her chest as the air in the car thinned and then disappeared. She swallowed back bile, her eyes glued to the comforting sight of Dan, who spoke to the nearest bystander and ducked his head inside the first crumpled vehicle.
No, Dan! Her mind screamed, a deafening wail, but no sound passed her dry lips.
Breathe. Breathe.
She placed the flat of her hand on her abdomen, counting out in her head—a calming technique she’d learned from her doctor. She should close her eyes, block out the horrific visual before her to regain control of her flailing nervous system. But strangely, the sight of Dan commanding and calm did more to soothe the panic boiling in her chest than all the calming techniques she practiced combined.
Abandoning the first car, Dan sprinted to the second vehicle, muscling his way past the couple of people crouched near the driver’s-side door.
The breathing exercises slowly corrected her thundering heart rate. Focusing on Dan’s control of the scene loosened the steel band around her chest. Eden leaned forward in the seat, her stare following Dan’s every authoritative move.
Not once did he flinch, his hands gesturing intermittently at those who’d stopped to help, even as his focus seemed trained on the victims trapped inside the cars.
One of the men he spoke to approached Eden, pulling open her door a crack.
‘The doctor asked me to check on you. He said to tell you everything is going to be okay.’ The man couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable, his own face alarmingly pale, but he hovered at her side, his rounded eyes flicking between Eden and the unfolding drama.
Something snapped in Eden, a shackle she hadn’t known she possessed the strength to break. Dan was tending multiple accident victims, and yet he still had the wherewithal to send someone to console her. She couldn’t just sit here, shivering and wallowing. Unlike the people who’d stopped to offer assistance, she suspected, she had training. Time to suck it up and put it to good use.
Backing the messenger up, she shoved the door fully open. ‘Thanks, I’m okay.’ She took off ru
nning, yelling over her shoulder, ‘Has someone called an ambulance?’
The man nodded, but she didn’t wait to hear what his response was as she raced to Dan’s side. Her feet skidded to a stop. Dan didn’t look up from his patient, an elderly woman who was bleeding from a head wound and seemed to be unconscious. Dan pulled his stethoscope from his ears.
‘Dan.’ Eden pushed past the woman on her right. ‘I have first-aid training. Tell me what to do.’ She knelt on her haunches at his side, basking in the unfaltering confidence he exuded.
‘This casualty is the worst. There’s an off-duty policeman with the other man. Can you check if he needs help? I think the other driver has some fractures but seems stable at the moment. And check on his passenger—just shock, I think.’ While he spoke, his hands didn’t once still as he pulled a plastic-wrapped cannula from a pocket on his backpack and manoeuvred the lady’s sleeve up past her elbow to expose a vein. His calm proficient manner and clear authoritative voice gave her strength, and she swallowed down her own fear and the lingering memories of another wreckage as she rushed to carry out Dan’s instructions.
It felt like hours, but within minutes, two ambulances, two police cars and a fire engine arrived, whipping the whole scene into one of frantic, but coordinated, activity.
Eden sat on the grass verge with the passenger from the first car, her constant stream of inconsequential chatter seemingly falling on deaf ears, but she kept it up, understanding firsthand the effect of shock and the need for human reassurance at such moments.
By the time the injured had been loaded into the ambulances, dusk had fallen, and Eden hovered near Dan’s car, her arms hugging her chest to combat her trembling.
He appeared at her side, all brisk instructions and economy of words. ‘I’m going to travel with the elderly lady in the ambulance.’ His gaze swept her and he lifted his own lightweight sweater over his head, leaving him wearing only a T-shirt. ‘Are you okay?’ He turned the sweater the right side out and bunched it up in his hands before slipping it over her head.