Reunited with His Runaway Doc

by Lucy Clark

  ‘You have the brown contacts in again.’

  ‘Of course.’ She walked towards the staircase, needing to keep things moving, needing to keep things on an even keel because when Arthur was around her, especially after the heat they’d generated together last night, she most definitely lost all focus—contacts or no contacts.

  ‘Huh.’ He followed her down the stairs. ‘Short-sighted or long?’

  ‘Short.’ She cleared her throat as she reached for the front door to their apartment block. ‘How’s Juzzy this morning?’ Maybelle was determined to keep the conversation nice and light, on general topics, and it seemed Arthur was only too willing to oblige. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts after what had happened last night? Perhaps he’d regretted telling her what it was he wanted out of life? Perhaps he, too, thought it was wise to put some emotional distance between them?

  As he chatted about the dog’s antics that morning, Maybelle took the time to peruse him more thoroughly. He, too, was dressed comfortably in a dark pair of denims and a black jumper. Casual but not dressy. He could walk into a casino or a fast-food restaurant and seem completely at ease in both. He looked good, though, really good, and she bit her lip in an effort to distract her mind from the memories that were starting to rise to the surface.

  Arthur drove to the district where several homeware and furniture stores were located. Maybelle couldn’t believe how different the area was from when she’d lived here. ‘So much has changed,’ she murmured, not realising she’d spoken out loud until Arthur chuckled.

  ‘What did you expect? Twenty years is a long time, Maybelle. Progress does tend to happen.’

  ‘Oh, no, look. There. That restaurant. I remember that restaurant. It was an Italian restaurant with awesome food.’

  ‘Still is.’

  ‘Ha! Something stayed the same.’ She sighed with happiness, then glared at Arthur when he laughed at her again. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You. You’re such a juxtaposition unto yourself.’

  Maybelle rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever, mate. I just know what I know and like what I like and you can take that anyway you like.’

  ‘That type of attitude should make picking houseware a real treat. Next you’ll tell me that you’re not really sure what you want but when you see it, you’ll know.’

  ‘You know me too well.’ They were the wrong words to say as it brought back just how well he did know her. She glanced at him and he glanced at her, before they both returned their gazes to the front windscreen.

  ‘Let’s have some music.’ Arthur quickly turned on the radio, needing to break the awkward tension that was starting to swirl around them. Thankfully, it wasn’t too much longer before they arrived at the store and when they entered, Maybelle clasped her hands tightly together. Not because she was excited to be here but because there were just so many people around.

  The store was huge, a wide open-plan store that was set out in departments. There were dining-room tables and chairs on one side and sofas on the other. In the far right corner were beds of all shapes and sizes and to the left was a different section, which had pillows, curtains and household linen.

  In the rear part of the store was another large area where she could see kitchen appliances, cameras and computers. Streamers and balloons were everywhere, brightly coloured and moving slightly with the breeze from the heaters, which were working overtime trying to keep the people in the store warm against the outside weather.

  Parents, children, babies, prams, pregnant ladies, pensioners and couples of all ages seemed to have congregated in this one large store all at the same time. The sales staff were easily distinguished in bright red blazers and several were walking the floor, offering their assistance to the patrons.

  The noise. The heat. The lights. The decorations. Everything blurred into one big headache and Maybelle breathed out slowly in order to try and calm her rising panic.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  She looked at Arthur, surprised to see a worried look on his face. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because every muscle in your body is tense. Your jaw is clenched. You’re squeezing your fingers so tightly together, your knuckles are turning white. What is it?’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ He placed a hand beneath her elbow and steered her carefully to the corner of the store, where he sat her down on a small sofa. Arthur sat next to her and placed a hand over hers. ‘Tell me what’s happening, Maybelle. Let me help you. Please?’

  ‘It’s just very…busy.’

  ‘In the store? Do you want to leave?’

  Maybelle stopped looking around at everything and focused her attention on Arthur. He was concerned. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He was concerned…for her. How was she supposed to resist him when he cared about her so much?

  ‘Talk to me, Maybelle. Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s going through your head. Let me help you find that new normal you’re so desperately seeking.’

  She dragged in a breath, held it for a moment, and then slowly exhaled. ‘Large places like this,’ she began quietly, ‘can be dangerous. When you’re trying to hide from someone, they’re good. You can blend in with the crowd but at the same time it means there are more people around to keep your eye on, to ensure you don’t accidentally bump into the person you’re trying to get away from.’

  Arthur slowly shook his head, compassion and concern etched in his expression. He didn’t say anything but his thumb was rubbing her hand gently, as though urging her to continue.

  ‘The instant we entered this building I scanned the place for the exits. I do it everywhere I go. It’s become part of my normal routine. In here, apart from the main doors where we came in, there are eight. Some are normal entry and exit ways, but the others—over there behind the linen department and the one next to the kitchen appliances—are for the staff and no doubt lead to the stockrooms. There are thirteen desks where people can sit with staff and discuss their purchases and in the bedding section there’s a small side room hidden behind the large plastic plant.’

  ‘How did you do that?’ Arthur turned his head to check out the areas she was mentioning, his jaw momentarily hanging open in surprise.

  ‘When I was rescued after the first kidnapping, the government decided I needed some training in martial arts and espionage techniques. I didn’t turn them down and the next time someone tried to kidnap me, that training kicked in. I had those kidnappers disarmed and on the ground with broken bones like a pro, then I escaped.’

  ‘Uh…right.’ She could hear the shock in Arthur’s tone at her matter-of-fact words.

  ‘That training has become ingrained. I can also tell you where the restrooms are, the disability ramps and how much this sofa costs. This is how my brain is wired. This is what I have to endure every time I walk into a new place. My mind seems to slip into covert mode and scans the room for possible threats and exits. I can’t help it.’

  ‘What about the hospital? The ED? Do you do the scanning thing every time you walk in?’

  ‘Not so much now, but the first time, yes. The staff were captivated by some anecdote you were sharing.’

  The side of his lips quirked upwards. ‘I like to ensure we can laugh together. I find it helps the teamwork to be more cohesive.’

  ‘That’s the sign of a good leader.’ She smiled at him and dragged in a calming breath, immediately feeling better. ‘Thank you for listening.’

  ‘Thank you for sharing. I know it must be difficult for you sometimes—’

  ‘Like waking up in a strange bed and attacking you with a book?’

  Arthur chuckled and rubbed his head. ‘Certainly gets the adrenaline pumping.’ He stared at her, the smile slowly fading from his lips. How was it that his eyes could change from joviality to seriousness within a split second? ‘Whatever you need, Maybelle, I’m right here. Support, friendship, a shoulder to cry on.’

  And she was right where she’d told herself not to b
e…gazing once more into Arthur’s eyes and wanting him, so desperately, to kiss her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘THIS ISN’T GOOD,’ Arthur murmured, his words barely audible, but even if he hadn’t spoken out loud, Maybelle was sure she would have heard him as the connection between them seemed to transcend the normal parameters of the world. Her heart was beating perfectly in time with his. How she knew this, she had no clue. She just knew. Their attraction was only magnifying their connection, their need for each other, and once again she had the urge to just go for it, to take their relationship to the ultimate consummation, and then she would have him out of her system. She could let go of the man who had been a large part of her world and she could move on.

  He was looking at her lips as though he could kiss her with his caress and when she angled in closer to him, wanting the same thing, he slipped his arm further around her shoulders, gathering her near. When his gaze met hers once more, the fire, heat and desire was exactly what she’d been expecting to see…needing to see because she knew it matched her own.

  ‘Why are we fighting this?’ Again his words were so quiet but they reverberated loudly within Maybelle’s heart and she placed a hand on his thigh and moved in even more, a hair’s breadth from what it was they both so desperately wanted. ‘I need you.’

  ‘I know.’ And with that, she pressed her mouth to his in the softest, most tantalising kiss she was sure they’d ever had. Such a feather-light touch, which caused a riot of fireworks to explode within her. Whether they were hot and hungry or as gentle as the beat of a butterfly’s wings, the tension between them was always intense and she doubted that would ever change.

  ‘I see the love seat is working its magic once again.’

  The rude words were like a stylus scratching across the surface of an old vinyl record and they both turned to see a red-blazered sales assistant regarding them as though they were cute little cherubs. Her hands were clutched to her chest and the smile on her face was one of encouragement.

  Arthur cleared his throat and eased away from Maybelle. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The love seat.’ The sales lady gestured to the sofa they were sitting on. ‘We often have couples come and try it out. It’s very comfortable and very…encompassing.’ She spread her hands wide, then brought them together, her fingers linking as though to illustrate her point. ‘Perfect for that wintry night, snuggled up by the heater, watching a movie.’

  Feeling closed in with the woman hovering over them, Maybelle started to feel her earlier anxiety—the anxiety Arthur had been more than effective in quashing—begin to return. She didn’t like feeling closed in, or patronised by pushy salespeople. Maybelle stood, pleased she was slightly taller than the other woman, and pulled her baseball cap down a little further. ‘Excuse me.’ She sidestepped the woman and walked towards the restrooms. She knew she was leaving Arthur to deal with the situation but he was more than capable of fending off a fawning piranha.

  Her heart was pounding against her chest and she knew it was more from the way Arthur made her feel than anxiety. Chalk one up to sensual desire, she mused. A good cure for anxiety. In fact, she would be more than happy to have Arthur help her deal with her anxiety in such a way in the future and she knew he’d be willing to assist her with that research project. A small smile touched her lips and she felt her earlier dread begin to disappear.

  She was doing normal things in the normal world. No one was here to kidnap her, there was no threat to her life any more. She would splash some water on her face, take five calming deep breaths, and go out and buy some throw pillows and pictures to brighten up her apartment. She could do this. She could.

  Entering the restroom, she was immediately distracted by the sound of a woman in one of the stalls crying out in pain. Maybelle’s professional persona was immediately on alert. She waited. Perhaps someone had a bad case of gastroenteritis. A moment later the sound came again.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Maybelle asked. The only reply she received was a panting and grunting sort of sound. ‘Please? I’m a doctor. I can help.’

  The next answer she received was another loud grunt, a cry and a yell all combined. ‘I know that sound,’ Maybelle muttered. She immediately bent down to check beneath the stalls, remembering seeing a heavily pregnant woman wandering around the store when they’d first entered and the woman had been heading towards the restrooms. ‘Are you in labour? If so, are you able to unlock the stall so I can get to you?’

  ‘Wasn’t…supposed to be happening…yet,’ a woman panted as Maybelle heard the sound of a locked latch being undone. She went into the cubicle, seeing a woman bending forward, half sitting, half trying to get off the toilet.

  ‘How many weeks’ gestation are you?’ Maybelle asked as she helped the woman to manoeuvre out of the stall and onto the floor of the bathroom.

  ‘Twenty-eight.’

  Maybelle was surprised as the woman looked much bigger. ‘Twins?’

  ‘Yes. Girls.’

  ‘I’m Maybelle, by the way,’ she said as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket and called Arthur.

  ‘Jenna.’ She slowly let out a long breath, then leaned back against the wall as the contraction passed. ‘I think it’s all right now.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Maybelle replied, then turned her attention to the phone as Arthur answered. ‘Can you come into the women’s bathroom, please? I have a woman in labour.’

  ‘Who are you calling?’ Jenna demanded as Maybelle disconnected the call.

  ‘The director of the emergency department at Victory Hospital. He’s right outside.’ She smiled at Jenna.

  ‘Are you an obstetrician?’

  ‘No, we’re both emergency specialists—and this most definitely classifies as an emergency.’

  ‘I’d just said to Sean that something didn’t feel right and that we should leave here and go to the hospital but I needed to go to the—’ Jenna stopped talking, wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth as another contraction started to make itself known. Jenna clearly wasn’t backwards in letting her discomfort out, and as Arthur came into the bathroom he was greeted with a full-on yell of pain and anguish as only a woman in labour could make.

  ‘You weren’t kidding.’

  ‘Is there a first-aid kit nearby? And can you get some towels or sheets or both so I can at least make a sterilised area?’

  ‘Being in a store that sells all those things shouldn’t make that request too difficult,’ he replied, and headed out again. Maybelle stood and took off her hat before thoroughly washing her hands, coaching Jenna through her breathing. When the contraction started to subside, Jenna tried to lever herself from the floor.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Maybelle asked as she finished drying her hands with the hand-dryer.

  ‘I’m standing up.’ Jenna glared at her as though she was insane. ‘I need to get to hospital and get this labour stopped. My girls aren’t done yet. I still have twelve weeks left of my pregnancy and—’ Jenna’s words were cut short as her abdomen contracted once more and she immediately slumped back against the wall, wrinkling her nose and crying out in pain.

  ‘That was less than a minute between the two contractions,’ Maybelle stated as she knelt down, being careful not to touch her hands against anything. ‘Jenna. I need to check to see how far dilated you are.’ The woman’s underwear was still around her ankles and her shoes had somehow come off but thankfully she was wearing a skirt, which Maybelle lifted up with her elbows. As Jenna continued with the contraction, concentrating on her breathing but screaming in pain every now and then, Maybelle was extremely surprised to see a tiny hand presenting first—as though waving hello and letting everyone know that no matter how much they may wish to stop this labour, it wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘Your waters must have broken because things are definitely progressing fast,’ Maybelle told her just as Arthur came back into the room with a first-aid kit. Behind him was the store manager, carrying a bundle of fresh towels and sheets, a
long with a pillow and blanket for the labouring woman, which he quickly placed on the floor and then rushed out, telling them he would ensure they had privacy.

  As Maybelle pulled on a pair of gloves, Arthur pulled the clean sheets from the packets and spread them around the area where Jenna now slouched.

  ‘I found some paper straws, which we can use in place of suction, and also some bag clips to clamp the cord if the ambulance doesn’t get here in time.’

  ‘It won’t,’ she told him softly, and indicated the little hand.

  ‘Ah…’

  ‘Scissors?’

  ‘Should be some in the first-aid kit.’

  ‘Good.’ Maybelle nodded and went back to coaching Jenna as the contraction started to ease once more. This time Jenna didn’t even bother to move, except when Arthur needed her to lift her bottom so they could get the clean sheet and a comfortable towel beneath her.

  ‘And look…the sheets are nice and pink. Perfect for two little girls.’

  ‘Ambulances are on their way.’

  ‘Ambulances? More than one?’ Jenna asked, a little dazed and light-headed. Before Arthur could answer, there was a ruckus at the closed bathroom door with raised male voices.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ came the store manager’s voice. ‘There’s an emergency in progress.’

  ‘Where’s my wife? My wife was in there! She’s pregnant. Jenna! Jenna?’

  ‘Sean?’ Jenna called back, and within the next moment a man came bursting into the women’s restroom and rushed over to his wife’s side. ‘Where were you?’ She burst into tears as he crouched down by her head and hugged her close, kissing her.

  ‘I was still looking at the cribs. I’m here now.’

  ‘So are our girls,’ Jenna managed to get out as another contraction came. Maybelle supported the little hand, which was up beside the baby’s head, as she talked Jenna through the contraction. Sean’s eyes widened as he looked at what was happening.