A Single Dad to Heal Her Heart

by Caroline Anderson

  Disloyal?

  No, not that. Jules wouldn’t have wanted him to be lonely, but he still had unfinished business with her. If only he’d had time to say goodbye, but by the time he’d got to the hospital she had been in a coma and it had been too late.

  Had she known he was there? He hoped so, hoped she’d known how much he loved her, how much she’d given him over the years, how much he had to thank her for—

  ‘Matt?’

  He blinked, his eyes coming back into focus, and took the tea from his mother. ‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, her eyes so full of compassion and understanding it nearly unravelled him. ‘Come on, let’s sit down with the children for a few minutes until their film finishes and then you can put them to bed—unless you’d like me to do it?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’ll do it. Oh, damn. Don’t you have book club tonight?’

  She smiled ruefully. ‘I do, but it doesn’t matter. I haven’t finished the book.’

  ‘Do you ever?’

  She laughed. ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Go anyway. I’m sure it doesn’t matter. Where is it?’

  ‘Only round the corner. Joanna’s house—Annie’s mother, and Marnie will be there, too. Maybe I will go, if you’re sure you’re all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Mum. You’re only seconds away, so I’ll call you if I need to go back in.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ she said, and he had to look away. He cleared his throat.

  ‘So, what have they had to eat? Let me guess—pasta.’

  ‘No. Actually, no, for once. I made them a chicken tagine with couscous. They loved it. I’ve saved you some, but you’ll probably think it’s a bit mild.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be lovely. I’m starving. Thank you—for everything.’

  His mother flapped her hand at him and headed back to the sofa with her tea, and he followed her, sat down on the other sofa and watched the end of the programme with his precious children snuggled up on each side of him while his tea cooled, forgotten.

  * * *

  Livvy saw him on Monday in Resus, over a week since he’d come to her house, and they went for coffee after his patient was transferred to Interventional Radiology with Joe Baker and he was off the hook for a few minutes.

  She’d been on edge since their conversation that Thursday and for some reason the time had seemed to stretch interminably, so she was ridiculously pleased when he asked her to join him. Maybe he’d take the opportunity to arrange a time to see her properly, when they could be alone.

  He picked up a banana, asked for a cappuccino and Livvy ordered a pot of green tea and found a bag of mixed nuts and seeds, her heart jiggling in her chest.

  Would he suggest it?

  ‘Do you ever drink coffee?’ he asked as they sat down, and she shook her head.

  ‘Not usually. I’m not a huge fan.’

  ‘But—green tea?’ he asked, pulling a face. ‘Is that for health reasons?’

  Again, not the right time, and not enough time to discuss it properly, but it settled her heart down again. ‘Partly. It’s good for you,’ she said, without going into any further details. ‘And anyway, I love it.’

  He laughed. ‘I can’t imagine why. I think it’s vile, but each to his own. I emailed your father, by the way,’ he added. ‘I’ve been meaning to contact him for ages and I’ve never got round to it, so thanks for jogging me. Anyway, he replied and said it would be nice to see me again, so I might run up there sometime if I get a minute. I could maybe take the children one weekend.’

  She nodded. ‘They’d love that, but don’t plan it for this coming weekend. It’s Dad’s sixtieth, and they’re throwing him a party on Saturday night. Actually,’ she said, thinking about it and wondering if it would provide that opportunity she was waiting for, ‘you ought to come with me.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I can’t do that.’

  She felt a little stab of disappointment. ‘Oh. I suppose you’d have to get someone to look after the children and it’s very short notice. That’s a shame.’

  He shook his head again. ‘I wouldn’t, as it happens, because they’re having a sleepover with their cousins at Juliet’s sister’s house, but there’s the small matter that I haven’t been invited.’

  ‘Yes, you have—by me,’ she said, taking away that excuse with a smile. ‘You can be my plus one. I’ll even drive you so you can drink—unless you don’t want to come?’ she added, suddenly wondering if she’d overstepped the mark. Again.

  ‘Won’t you be staying over?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t have to. I was going to, but I’m sure they can use my room for someone else. Seriously, Matt, why not? It’ll be a great party. Unless you’re working?’

  ‘No. No, I’m not working, but it just feels a bit cheeky.’

  ‘Rubbish, you’d be more than welcome.’

  He frowned, but he didn’t say any more, just glanced at his phone and sighed. ‘I need to go. I’ve got a patient to check on and then I’ve got an outpatients’ clinic.’

  ‘Yeah, I should go, too. But please think about it. I’m sure they’d be delighted if you came. I know they’d love to see you.’

  And she’d love him to come, if she could only persuade him...

  He laughed, his eyes creasing. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’

  She smiled wryly. ‘No, but just tell me this. If he’d asked you himself, would you have said yes?’

  ‘Probably. Well, after I’d talked to you and made sure you were OK with it.’

  She laughed. ‘Why wouldn’t I be OK with it?’

  ‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t do to make assumptions,’ he said softly, surprising her.

  ‘Matt, you should know me better by now,’ she scolded gently. ‘I’m more than happy if you want to come. Think about it and let me know.’

  He nodded. ‘OK. And that’s not a yes, by the way.’

  ‘Of course it isn’t,’ she said, but she couldn’t stop her smile and he rolled his eyes, laughed and walked her back to the ED.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HE DIDN’T GET a minute to see her in the next few days, but her invitation was never far from his mind and he still didn’t know what to do about it.

  He hadn’t been to a party since Jules had died, mostly because he hadn’t had the time or the inclination, but this was Oliver’s sixtieth, a milestone party for a man to whom he owed so much, for all sorts of reasons. Did he want to go with Livvy?

  Yes, he realised. He did—but was it wise? Their relationship was so new, so unformed that he wasn’t even sure they had one. Their only conversation about it had ended with talk of an ad hoc affair, and he certainly wasn’t ready to go public with that, especially not with her parents, of all people.

  Except, of course, because it was so new, they probably wouldn’t think anything of it other than that their daughter was his colleague and so it was entirely reasonable that they should go to the party together. They didn’t need to announce to anyone that they were starting a relationship—if you could call something so hit and miss a relationship.

  She didn’t seem to want more than that, though, which was fine by him because he couldn’t give her more anyway, but one of the reasons she’d given was health issues, and that intrigued him. What health issues? She hadn’t said, and he hadn’t seen her in the sort of situation when he felt he could ask. Maybe on the way to the party, or the way back?

  And the party was a way of getting to see Bron and Oliver again, a way to thank Oliver personally for what he’d done for him, but also a chance to see more of Livvy, and spend more than fifteen snatched minutes with her over a cup of green tea, for heaven’s sake!

  He sent her a text.

  Is the invitation still open?

  Second
s later her reply pinged back.

  Yes, of course. It’s black tie—is that a problem?

  No problem. What time shall I pick you up?

  It starts at seven thirty. And I’m driving. I’ll pick you up.

  He laughed. Yes, she’d offered, but he wouldn’t hold her to it. For a start it just felt wrong, and more importantly he never went anywhere without being able to get away under his own steam—just in case. Except Cumbria, and he would have hired a car or caught a train or got a taxi if necessary. And that was exceptional. Audley was about thirty miles up the road, less than an hour away. And he didn’t need alcohol. He’d had enough to last a lifetime in that lonely fortnight after Jules had died, and he was fine without it.

  Besides, if he was with her and she was dancing in some slinky little number that was going to trash his mind, he needed to be stone-cold sober or he might well make an idiot of himself in front of her parents.

  I’ll drive you. Call me old-fashioned. :)

  There was a pause—a long one. Because she was busy? Quite likely. It was half an hour before she came back to him.

  Not going to argue. I hate driving at night! Pick me up at six forty-five. X

  He was late.

  Only a couple of minutes, but it was enough to stretch her tight nerves just a little tighter.

  She’d been ready ages ago, dithering over whether her new dress was all right, if he’d like it, if she should wear her hair up or down, could she wear heels—only low ones but still, her ankle wasn’t quite right yet—and how much make-up? She hardly wore any usually, but tonight—

  And the dress. She’d loved the dress the moment she’d seen it, and it could have been made for her. The left shoulder was bare, with diagonal pleats across the bodice that started at the waist and ran up to the right shoulder, ending in a delicate waterfall of chiffon like a floaty little cap sleeve that covered the top of her arm. It was pretty, elegant, fitted her like a glove and was a perfect match for her eyes, but she’d spent the last few years hiding herself away in loose, casual clothes and it was—well, fitted, for want of a better word. And dressy.

  She’d told herself off for being ridiculous. It was beautifully cut, and it was a glamorous party, so why shouldn’t she be dressy? So she’d twisted her hair up and secured it with a sparkly clip, put on her normal going-out make-up and the wedge-heeled sandals and gone downstairs to wait, her nerves as tight as a bowstring because tonight might be the night, and she felt like a teenager going to her first prom.

  She was watching from the bay window of her little sitting room when he arrived, and as he rounded the front of the car and stepped onto the kerb, she felt her mouth dry.

  What was it about formal dress that made men look so good? Not that Matt didn’t always, but tonight he looked stunning as he strode up the path and waved to her through the window. Even sexier, if that was possible, and her pulse hitched.

  She hesitated at the front door, ran a hand over her dress, wondering again if he’d like it, hoping he would, telling herself it didn’t matter when she knew it did, then finally she opened the door, and he smiled again as he stepped inside and dropped a kiss on her cheek, his eyes warm.

  ‘You look amazing,’ he said, his voice low and soft and a little rough at the same time, and she felt the tension ease a little. Well, no, that tension. The other tension, the tension that was all about how gorgeous he looked and how much she was looking forward to spending all that time with him on a—was it a date?—ratcheting up a notch or six.

  ‘Well, I thought I’d lash out on a new dress,’ she said, her voice oddly breathless. ‘He’s only going to be sixty once.’

  His voice deepened a fraction and his eyes never left her face. ‘I wasn’t talking about the dress.’ Then his eyes dropped, and he scanned her slowly and smiled. ‘Although I have to say it really suits you. You look beautiful, Livvy. Absolutely gorgeous. He’ll be so proud of you.’

  She felt soft colour sweeping up her throat, and felt suddenly shy. She was never shy! What was he doing to her?

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, fighting down the unexpected blush and scanning him blatantly just for the fun of it. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’

  He grinned. ‘That’s because you’re used to seeing me in scrubs. It’s just the tux. Same old me underneath, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Yeah, that must be it, all in the tailoring,’ she said, making a joke of it while she dragged her tattered composure back into shape and tried not to think about what was underneath the immaculately cut suit. She picked up her bag and a soft cashmere wrap in case it was cold later, and turned back to him.

  ‘Shall we go?’

  He gestured to the front door and gave a little mock bow. ‘Your carriage awaits. I even washed it.’

  ‘Good grief. That’s going above and beyond.’

  He chuckled and opened the car door for her and helped her in, lifting her dress clear of the sill so it didn’t get dirty, even though the car was gleaming.

  So thoughtful. So—perfect? And so unavailable...

  No. Not unavailable. Just not permanent. There was a difference, and she was looking forward to exploring it.

  ‘I take it you know the way to their house?’ she asked as he slid behind the wheel, and he laughed softly.

  ‘Yes, I know the way. Sit back and relax.’

  * * *

  Livvy walked through the open front door of the Victorian house on the park that was her family home, and Matt followed her in, hanging back a little.

  Her father was there greeting his guests, and he looked fit and well and nothing like sixty. He hadn’t changed, not in the two years since he’d seen him, and very little in the nine years since he’d first joined Oliver’s team as a baby registrar, and he saw the love in his eyes as he pulled his daughter into a hug and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Hello, darling. You look beautiful,’ he said warmly, and then he looked up and his eyes widened.

  ‘Matt! Come in! How good to see you!’

  ‘You, too. Happy birthday,’ he said, holding out the bottle of champagne he’d brought him, and Oliver thanked him and took it, then wrapped him firmly in a hug that spoke volumes before he dropped his arms and stepped back, his eyes warm and filled with compassion. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you again. Livvy said she was bringing someone, but she wouldn’t say who, and I’m so glad it’s you. It’s been much too long,’ Oliver said warmly, then slung an arm around his shoulders and wheeled him down the hall. ‘Come and see Bron, she’s in the kitchen. Bron, look who Livvy’s brought!’

  Her eyes lit up. ‘Matt!’ She set down the tray of canapés, wiped her hands and enveloped him in a hug. ‘Oh, Matt, it’s so good to see you again. I’m so—’ She broke off, hugged him harder and let go, her eyes suddenly over-bright. ‘How are you? How are the children?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ he said firmly. ‘Really. They’re growing up fast. Amber starts school in September, and she’s well and truly ready for it, and Charlie—well, Charlie’s just exhausting. My poor mother’s run ragged, but she loves them to bits and they love her, and—you know, we’re getting by. Still, I’m not here to talk about me, I want to hear all about you two, but I guess you’re busy.’

  She laughed. ‘Just a little, but there are lots of people you’ll know. Here, grab a tray of canapés, wander out into the garden and pass them round and find yourself a drink and I’ll catch up with you later. I want to see pictures of the children.’

  He chuckled, took the tray from her and headed out to the garden as instructed. There was a marquee in the middle of the lawn and it was teeming with people, some of whom he’d worked with. Ross Hamilton was there, one of the general surgeons and a contemporary of Oliver’s, talking to Jack Lawrence, the ED clinical lead. They would have heard about Jules, and he wondered if they’d feel they had to say something, or if they’d just avoid him. He’d had a
lot of that and he suddenly wished he hadn’t come—

  A hand slipped into the crook of his arm with a little squeeze. ‘Sorry, I got caught by some old friends and I’ve been looking for you everywhere—where did you go?’

  He looked down at her with a smile, glad that she was back by his side, noticing how the cornflower blue of her eyes seemed to be made even brighter by the dress, which matched them exactly. The dress that was playing hell with his blood pressure. The dress he wanted to peel slowly off her and—

  ‘Your father took me into the kitchen to see your mother, and she handed me this tray of canapés and put me to work.’

  ‘Typical.’ Livvy laughed up at him, and he felt as if the sun had come out. ‘So, who do you remember, and who do you recognise and can’t place?’

  He smiled but he could feel it was a little crooked. ‘To be honest, I’m happy just hanging out with you, Livvy. I’ve hardly seen you for days—’

  ‘Matt!’

  He turned to find Ross and Lizzi Hamilton had come up behind him. He’d met Lizzi several times, and the first thing she did was hug him wordlessly.

  ‘Good to see you,’ Ross said, his voice a little rough as his hand engulfed Matt’s and shook it firmly. ‘So, how are things? I gather from Oliver that you’re working with Livvy in Yoxburgh?’

  ‘Not with her, but she’s a trauma doctor so we meet in Resus pretty often.’ Not often enough, if he was honest, but it was better than nothing, which seemed to be the alternative.

  They chatted for a bit while he force-fed them canapés, then they moved on and he turned to Livvy. ‘I need a drink, I haven’t got one yet and I could murder a glass of something cold and wet and alcohol-free.’

  ‘Come.’ She slipped her hand through his arm and led him into the huge conservatory where a bar had been set up, and took the tray of canapés from him to put it down by the glasses. ‘So, what do you fancy? Fizzy water? Cola, tonic, juice, elderflower cordial, a fruit punch—guaranteed non-alcoholic? Or there might be some alcohol-free beer.’