by Andrews, Amy
Callie heard Zack’s little voice asking for his daddy and sucked in a breath. She had tried. So hard.
‘We can’t be all things to all people, Callie. It wasn’t your fault.’
She knew that. She did know it. And there was something about the gentle understanding in his voice that told her he knew it, too.
On a deeply personal level, not just occupationally.
A familiar pain grew in her chest and the pressure build-up behind her eyes was almost unbearable. A tear trekked down her face as the urge to unburden grew to overwhelming force.
For God’s sake, she’d just shared the most intimate thing two human beings could share. She’d been as physically vulnerable as it was possible to be with a man. But to feel such an emotional connection? This compulsion to open up was a whole new level of intimacy. So much so her hands trembled.
‘Callie?’ he whispered, stroking her back again. ‘Talk to me.’
His silky tone was so inviting. So soft. So understanding. If she didn’t say something, say what was on her mind, she was going to burst. And in some strange way Callie couldn’t understand, she trusted him. It was bizarre. She barely knew him but she knew she could tell him this.
The stroke of Sebastian’s palm both soothed and encouraged and somehow it seemed easier to spill her emotional baggage to a stranger in the dark.
‘It was...my brother. Not a client. My brother committed suicide from that bridge eight years ago yesterday. I was there, talking to him, trying to talk him down, but...’
His hand stilled and Callie opened her eyes. She could only imagine the red flags her admission had raised. Could he separate out Sebastian the psychologist from Seb the lover? The mattress gave then and suddenly he was behind her, opening his legs wide and snuggling her into the V between his thighs, his powerful quads bracketing hers.
Wrapping both arms around her waist, he pulled her in, his front to her back. ‘I’m sorry.’
Callie sagged against him as if she’d just had a ten-tonne block of concrete lifted from her shoulders. ‘It was a long time ago.’
He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘What was his name?’
‘An...’ Callie faltered, a thickness rising in her throat.
Nobody involved in the case back then had ever been particularly interested in his name. He had just been a system failure. A chart number. And people who knew she’d been Zack’s aunt and guardian had been too embarrassed or polite to ask. She was curiously touched by the way he’d just humanised her brother.
‘Andrew.’
He rested his chin on her shoulder. ‘Did Andrew have problems or...?’
‘He was a schizophrenic.’
‘Ah.’
Callie drew in a ragged breath. It still hurt to talk about him. But it was nice to acknowledge his existence after years of avoiding the topic.
‘He’d been in and out of psych wards from the age of sixteen. He was non-compliant with his meds and...transient... homeless for the last few years...’
She wondered if the ugly scene at the restaurant was now making more sense for Sebastian.
‘That must have been difficult.’
Callie remembered those years of trying to help, trying to save him, trying to get him to see reason. Trying to be sister, mother and health professional, and failing at all of them. Learning the hard way that you just couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped.
‘The voices just got too much for him.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again and the empathy in his voice was thick and tangible.
They were quiet for a while, sitting in what felt a strange kind of solidarity. After a while he shuffled back and she followed him, lying down with him again, turning into his side and draping an arm over his chest.
‘Is that why you became a psych nurse?’ he asked into the silence that stretched between them that already felt scarily natural.
Callie flipped over so she was lying on her stomach, her chin propped on one of his very fine pectoral muscles. ‘My mother was bipolar and Andy was diagnosed at sixteen. I didn’t seem to be able to help either of them but I wanted to be able to do something. To try and help others. To...I don’t know, understand, maybe.’
She didn’t know why she was telling him this. Any of it.
It just felt right. As right as Sebastian’s forefinger felt pushing back a lock of her hair.
‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Why’d you decide to become a psychologist?’
He searched her face like he, too, had demons and he didn’t know where to start. ‘My father was a Vietnam vet. He was a prisoner of war for a brief time. He suffered severe PTSD. My mother was clinically depressed most of her life. Because of Dad mostly. Their marriage was certainly no bed of roses. So...’ he shrugged ‘I guess for the same reasons as you. To help. To understand.’
Callie nodded, liking the openness of his pale green eyes and the fact that he was some kind of kindred spirit. She shot him a slow smile. ‘And what on earth are you doing in this neck of the woods? Community mental health is a little lowbrow for such a hotshot, surely?’
Sebastian chuckled but his gut tensed. The answer to that one was complicated and a lot closer to home than the ancient history that was his family.
He played with a lock of her hair. ‘I just needed a change of pace.’ Callie was looking at him intently and he averted his gaze to the silky slide of her hair through his fingers. ‘To try something different.’
She arched an eyebrow at his evasive answer but didn’t say anything. For damn sure she knew that he was evading her question, though. She was just choosing to let it go.
For now.
Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him, lingering over it, her tongue stroking his lips. Desire squirmed in Sebastian’s belly but she kept it light, easing away far too soon and cuddling into his side again.
‘So,’ Sebastian murmured after he realised the silence had gone on for an eternity. He’d been too wrapped up in the press of her breasts against his ribs and the slow, steady fan of her breath against his chest to make conversation. ‘What I want to know is, how come you aren’t married with a swag of kids by now?’
She laughed. ‘You have to ask that? With my gene pool? Inflict that on some poor innocent child? No way. Absolutely not. And there’s not a lot of guys around who are comfortable with my no-kids stance. Also...I raised Andy’s kid from two through to ten so I’ve done my mothering.’
Sebastian blinked at the ceiling. Well that he hadn’t expected. ‘Raised?’ he asked tentatively because he might have only known her for a day but he was already coming to know she buried her hurts deep. ‘Past tense? Where is he now?’
She rolled to her back and Sebastian felt her absence acutely. She was only a couple of hand spans away but the distance between them felt like a gaping chasm.
‘Back with his mother,’ she said, her voice a monotone as she stared at the ceiling.
‘But she wasn’t always around?’ he clarified wondering how far he could push.
‘No.’ She rolled her head from side to side. ‘Zack’s mother was a drug addict. And my brother wasn’t capable of looking after him either. Aleisha’s parents raised Zack until Andrew died and then...they couldn’t cope any more. They didn’t know if their daughter was dead or alive from one minute to the next and they were getting older. Too old to cope with an energetic two-year-old-boy. So I took him in.’
The depth of emotion in Callie’s husky voice made Sebastian ache for her. He glanced over to find her eyes were closed. ‘But he’s back with her now?’
‘Yes.’ Her throat bobbed. ‘She’s clean. Has been for two years. She’s married to a good guy. Very stable with a great extended family. And she has a great job. She – ’Callie cleared her throat. ‘Wanted her son back.’
The ache grew bigger. Sebastian didn’t have to ask to know that giving her nephew up had been gut-wrenching for Callie. Her soft, tremulous voice said it all. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, rolling up on
his elbow and dropping a kiss on her shoulder.
She nodded, squeezing her eyes together tight. ‘It was the right thing to do.’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘And it’s working really well. He lives nearby, goes to the same school, has the same friends. He adores his stepfather. He’s happy, that’s all that matters.’
Sebastian kissed her shoulder again.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring directly into his. ‘What about you? Do you have kids? This, by the way, would be a very bad time to tell me you have three. And a wife waiting for you back in Melbourne.’
He chuckled. ‘Oh, no, not me. No wife. No kids. Same reasons as you, really. Another bad gene pool and my parents’ train wreck of a marriage led to my own no-kids policy.’
And he’d seen so much in his life, particularly this last year — so much violence and hate and suffering — he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring an innocent child into such a screwed-up world.
‘And let me tell you there aren’t any women out there comfortable with that.’ Except for maybe her...‘Women, or at last the ones I’ve been involved with anyway, think you’re going to change your mind. That they’ll be the ones to make you see that you actually really do want babies. But...I don’t think some people were meant to have children, you know? Me included.’
‘Amen to that,’ she said vehemently, rolling onto her side and kissing him - hard and deep - for long cataclysmic moments before she pulled abruptly away. ‘I gotta go.’ She sat and scooted to the side of the bed. ‘I’ve got to work tomorrow.’
The screw and run manoeuvre was a well practised one for Callie. She never stayed the night. It was a rule she’d adopted early in her dating life - a product of a chaotic and unsettled upbringing - and had been cemented when an impressionable child came into her care. And even though Zack was gone, sleeping with a man was an intimacy she didn’t want to invite.
Especially not with Sebastian.
Still, as she rose and searched for her clothes, she was surprised at how hard it was this time. Normally she walked away without a backward glance. But with Sebastian watching her every move through half-open lids as she dressed in the moonlight, the temptation to stay was intense.
He didn’t protest. Or insist. He just watched her and by the time she was dressed she felt thoroughly examined and one hundred per cent ready to get back into bed and go again. She looked at him lying amidst the tangle of bedclothes all rumpled and sexy, the sheet just covering his modesty and exposing everything else.
His eyes, hooded in the gloom, followed her actions like a big old jungle cat, ready to pounce. ‘You sure I couldn’t tempt you to stay a little longer?’
Throwing the sheet back, he grinned when her eyes widened at his readiness. How was he even capable of going again? Callie shut her eyes briefly before opening them again and piercing him with her best no-nonsense look. ‘Some of us have to work.’
He sighed and covered himself again. ‘You’re regretting it, aren’t you?’
Callie looked at him and frowned. Was he joking? If she lived to be a hundred she’d never regret this night. Sure, she knew for sure she was going to regret baring her soul to him, but the sex? Never.
‘No.’ Her gaze swept the floor again.
He propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Callie, you can’t even look at me.’
Callie almost laughed out loud as she lifted her eyes. ‘I’ve lost my earring, that’s all.’
‘Oh.’ He chuckled. ‘Sorry.’ His gaze fanned over the bed and then he reached forward plucking something from the top sheet. ‘Here it is.’ He held the hoop up.
Callie grinned. ‘Thank you,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and relieving him of it, blindly attempting to hook it in.
‘So...how do you want to handle this from here?’ he asked.
Concentrating hard on finding the hole in her lobe she frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well...we are going to be colleagues as of next week...’
The earring finally found its home and Callie turned to face him. ‘We’re not forty-year-old virgins, Sebastian, swept away by a night of fantastic sex. Was sleeping together the wisest course of action? Probably not. But we’re both professionals. I can keep my work life and my private life separate. Can you?’
He nodded. ‘Sure.’
‘We can’t do it again, of course, not while we’re working together. I don’t think colleagues being sexually involved ever really works.’
‘Yup. Usually totally disastrous.’
‘Especially when you’re only here for a year.’
He nodded again. ‘Doesn’t make any sense.’
“Good,” she said, satisfied they were both on the same page. But then she made the mistake of following Sebastian’s movements as he rubbed at the stubble on his chin and her gaze dropped to his mouth, then lower.
Rising from the bed, she dragged that damn sheet back in place, ignoring his low, knowing chuckle.
‘I’ll see you next week,’ she said briskly, picking up her bag and striding out the door.
It was done. He was out of her system. Now, they could work together.
CHAPTER FOUR
Callie had spent all the intervening days and about every spare second of her time over the weekend trying not to think about Sebastian’s imminent arrival at Jambalyn. But, as she pulled her car into her parking space Monday morning right next to Sebastian’s, it could no longer be ignored.
She was going to see him again. Today. And every other day for the next year!
A nervous tremor ran through her stomach and she placed her hand against it. Why, why, why had she opened up to him like that? Opening her body to him had been far less intimate in comparison to letting him inside her head.
She felt as if she’d let Sebastian – the Sebastian Walker, for Pete’s sake — cross some sort of line. One she’d never let a man over before. And now he knew. And frankly that scared the hell out of her. How had she confessed something so personal to someone she barely knew?
How?
Annoyed, Callie pulled down her sun visor and inspected her reflection. She fiddled with her hair, inspected her teeth for stray food and pouted. Reaching for her voluminous handbag she searched for some lip gloss she knew was stashed somewhere inside, grabbing it triumphantly when she found it almost immediately.
Glancing back up to the mirror, her hand hovered just above her lips. And then sanity returned.
For crying out loud!
What was she doing? Was she trying to look nice for him? Nope. She would not do that. They were not in a relationship and neither were they going to be. She would start as she meant to go on — treating him as a colleague and pretending what had happened hadn’t happened at all.
She was thirty-eight years old, for Pete’s sake! And he was just a man. They were there to work and work only. It was imperative that she acted like a professional and forgot all about that night and the pillow talk that was making her feel unaccountably anxious.
Hopefully he’d get the message that their one-night stand was off-limits. And if he didn’t, she’d just have to make it crystal clear.
Sebastian looked across the room as Callie — fierce, proud, warrior-woman Callie - strode into his new place of work with her head held high. She was wearing the same sort of clothes she’d worn on the bridge that fateful day. Loose-fitting jeans and a roomy T-shirt in a rusty-brown that set off the honey highlights in her hair.
While there were no uniforms in community mental health, an ID tag hung from a lanyard around her neck and bounced against her breasts. Sensible flat shoes and a large black bag completed the picture. She looked every inch the professional. Poised and confident, ready for another day at the coal face. A far cry from the sexy clothes she’d worn to the restaurant.
The ones that had ended up scattered all over his floor.
As she approached, her bag swung hypnotically against her hip, drawing his gaze lower and distracting him from Geraldine’s fasci
nating explanation of the appointment system. He had kissed that hip. Those thighs. Those long legs had locked around his waist.
His gaze travelled up again, her necklace peeking out from the V of her neckline. Moonlight had glinted off that pendant as he had pounded into her.
‘Good morning, Sebastian,’ she said briskly, folding her arms across her chest.
He nodded, ignoring the way the action emphasised her breasts. ‘Callie.’
‘I see our new grandmother’s giving you the tour?’
Tahlia had given birth to a baby boy three hours after Geri had left the restaurant.
‘Not any more she’s not.’ Geri grinned, tapping her watch. ‘I have a breakfast meeting with the government community mental health advisor.’ She walked the two paces to her desk to gather some files. ‘Can you show Seb around? Take him out with you later today, too. The sooner he gets to know the local area the better.’
Geri didn’t wait for Callie to agree and Sebastian hid a smile as Callie gaped after her boss obviously not keen on playing babysitter. She was careful not to show it though as she turned to him and said, ‘Seb, huh?’
He shrugged. ‘Most people call me Seb.’
She frowned at him then, or more specifically at the buttons on his crisp white shirt like they’d offended her somehow.
‘You might want to think about going a bit more informal,’ she said, stiffly. ‘I’m sure a man with your reputation must have a debonair image to maintain, and in your private practice your clients probably expect spiffy. But, trust me, in the community there are no expectations and most of our clients find it easier to relate to casual dress.’
Sebastian looked her up and down again. He really did mean just to take an inventory of her casual dress but his eyes refused to move quickly, lingering on her thighs and breasts. Her prickliness didn’t faze him - it was just part of the puzzling patchwork woman in front of him. ‘Casual. Check.’
She swallowed. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said crankily, lowering her voice even though they were the only ones around.
Sebastian gave a half smile. ‘Like what?’