Sarah Morgan Summer Collection. Sarah Morgan
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colour deepened. ‘I happen to like this dress.’
‘So you should. It suits you. It’s nice to see you in something other than jeans.’ Kyla opened the drawer, fished out a spoon and dipped it into the soup. ‘My brother will probably like it, too. Which, I’m guessing, was the intention.’
Evanna gave a wry smile. ‘Your brother wouldn’t notice me if I stripped naked in front of him and danced a tango.’
Kyla tasted the soup again. ‘I’ve come to the sad conclusion that my brother is obviously thick. One day I’m going to tease him about it. But not before I’ve eaten his seafood. My stomach always comes before sibling conflict.’
‘You mustn’t mention it.’ Evanna gave a faint frown. ‘And to call him thick is just ridiculous when you know just how clever he is. It’s just that he can only think of Catherine. And that’s normal, of course,’ she added hastily, emptying the soup into a blender and securing the lid. ‘She was his wife. He loved her.’
Kyla waited for the noise of the blender to cease before she spoke. ‘Yes, I think he did. But that doesn’t mean he can’t love again.’
Evanna’s eyes met hers. ‘It isn’t going to happen, Kyla. Please stop talking about it.’
Kyla leaned forward and gave her friend a hug. ‘Give him time. Be patient.’ She glanced up as Ethan strolled into the room and suddenly found herself unable to breathe.
‘Logan has the barbecue going.’ His voice was a smooth, cultured drawl. ‘He wants to know what the pair of you are doing in here.’
‘We’re hugging. As friends should. Our Dr Walker isn’t much of a hugger,’ Kyla drawled, releasing Evanna and trying not to stare at Ethan. But it was hard to look away.
On the short car journey from their cottages, she hadn’t had a chance to look at him, but she saw now that he’d showered and shaved and changed into a pair of black jeans and a casual shirt that clung to the muscles of his shoulders. Kyla felt her stomach flip and suddenly discovered that her fingers were shaking. She turned, dropped the spoon into the sink to hide her burning cheeks and gave herself a sharp talking-to. Evanna was right. She knew perfectly well that Ethan was complicated. But he was the only man who had ever made her want to sit down in case her legs gave way. It was pretty hard to ignore that degree of chemistry.
‘We’ll just get the prawns out of the fridge,’ she mumbled, crossing the kitchen and tugging open the door. Maybe cold air would help. Plates of fresh seafood confronted her and she lifted them out and handed them to Ethan. ‘Take these out. We’ll follow with the salad.’
‘You go out, Kyla.’ Evanna poured some of the liquid soup into a bowl. ‘I’ll fetch Kirsty and join you in the garden.’
Logan and Ethan immediately started talking about what had happened with Aisla, and Kyla stared at the pile of uncooked food with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
‘Logan, could you cook and then talk? If someone doesn’t feed me soon, my blood sugar will do something dramatic,’ she said in a conversational tone, and her brother lifted an eyebrow in mockery.
‘Is there something wrong with your arms? What’s stopping you putting food on the barbecue?’
‘Possibly the memory of the stomachache I gave everyone last time I cooked.’
‘Good point.’ Logan grinned and she gave him a gentle push.
‘Start cooking or none of us will be eating before midnight. Aisla is fine. And she’s Ethan’s patient now.’
‘She’s coming to see me at the surgery so that I can check her properly and we can talk. I’ll cook.’ Ethan stepped forward and picked up the plate. Soon he was placing food on the barbecue with swift efficiency and Kyla watched in admiration.
‘You cook?’
He sent her an easy smile that had her heart racing. ‘When I have time, I cook.’
Evanna was wrong, Kyla thought to herself, relaxing slightly. He didn’t have demons. He was just naturally reserved. And here, in their garden, she could see him unwind.
Her theory lasted for as long as it took Kirsty to lift the baby out of her crib and bring her downstairs.
‘You have to stop letting her sleep so late, Logan,’ Evanna scolded gently as she cuddled the wriggling toddler against her body. ‘She needs a routine.’
‘So do I,’ Logan said dryly, snapping the top off a bottle of beer. ‘Would someone mind telling our patients? I need a regular bedtime and regular meals. I can’t function like this. It gives me indigestion.’
‘I’m serious, Logan,’ Evanna said. ‘She’s really hard to settle in the evenings because she doesn’t know whether she’s supposed to be awake or asleep.’
Logan sighed and reached out his arms for his daughter. ‘Routine is overrated,’ he said roughly, as he buried his face in the little girl’s blonde curls. ‘If she goes to bed early then there are some nights when I don’t see her, and I don’t want that. I need cuddles.’
Kyla’s heart shifted as she saw the two of them together and suddenly she found she had a lump in her throat. He’s a good father, she thought to herself, and she knew from the soft expression in her friend’s eyes that Evanna was thinking the same thing.
Then she looked at Ethan and something in his eyes caught her attention.
She saw shock, pain and desolation so huge that it almost hurt to watch.
And he was staring at the baby.
‘I offered her some of my home-made soup,’ Evanna was saying as she pulled faces at the little girl, drawing smiles of delight, ‘but she wasn’t interested.’
Had no one else noticed? Kyla wondered as she moved instinctively towards Ethan. Had no one else noticed the grim set of his mouth or the fact that his entire body was unnaturally still? It was as if he were afraid to move.
Did he hate babies? Had he lost a baby? What could possibly have happened in his life to trigger that sort of reaction?
Her mind sifted through options and came up with nothing concrete.
Perhaps she was just being dramatic. He was single after all. It was perfectly possible that he just didn’t like babies.
‘She doesn’t need soup, she needs attention. Give your daddy a cuddle,’ Logan drawled in a soft voice, and the little girl gurgled with delight and lifted her hand to pull his hair.
‘Ow—you have got to stop doing that, sweet pea, or Daddy is going to be bald and that is not a “good look”, as your Aunty Kyla would say.’ Logan wrapped his daughter’s tiny fist in his hand and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. ‘Pull someone else’s hair. Kyla has plenty.’
‘Ethan?’ Kyla moved over to Ethan’s side and touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’
It was a moment before he even noticed she was there. ‘Of course.’ His voice was flat. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I don’t know. You just seem—’
‘Tired,’ he supplied, his gaze cool as he turned to look at her. ‘It’s been a long day and it was a long night before that. I probably should have made my excuses and had an early night instead of accepting the invitation.’
Was that what was wrong? He was tired?
Kyla glanced towards her niece and then back at him, searching for clues. She wanted to ask a question but she had no idea which words would lead her to the right answer. Why would the sight of a strange baby affect him so badly? It didn’t make sense. ‘She’s sweet, isn’t she?’
There was a long silence and Ethan’s knuckles were white as he gripped the bottle of beer. ‘I don’t know much about babies,’ he said hoarsely,