Fairytale With The Single Dad. Alison Roberts
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there trying to listen to Sydney, hearing her telling stories of veterinary school and some of the cases she’d worked on, but all he could think about as he sat opposite her was that she was so very beautiful and seemed completely unaware of it.
It was there even in the way she sat. The way she held her teacup—not using the handle but wrapping her hands around the whole cup, as if it was keeping her warm. The way her whole face lit up when she laughed, which he was beginning to understand was rare. He’d wondered what she would look like when she smiled and now he knew. It was so worth waiting for. Her whole face became animated, unburdened by her past. It was lighter. Purer. Joyous. And infectious. Dangerously so.
And those eyes of hers! The softest of greys, like ash.
He was unnerved. He really had just wanted to meet her for this drink and clear the air after yesterday’s abrupt meeting in his surgery. And to thank her for helping Lottie after her attack. But something else was happening. He was being sucked in. Hypnotised by her. Listening to her stories, listening to her talk. He liked the sound of her voice. Her gentle tone.
He was trying—so hard—to keep reminding himself that this woman was just going to be a friend.
Sydney worked hard. Very hard. All her tales were of work. Of animals. Of surgeries. She’d not mentioned her daughter once and he knew he couldn’t. Not unless she brought up the subject first. If she wanted to share that with him then it had to be her choice.
He understood that right now Sydney needed to keep the conversation light. This was a new thing for her. This blossoming friendship. She was like a tiny bird that was trying its hardest not to be frightened off by the large tom cat sitting watching it.
‘Sounds as if you work very hard.’
She smiled, and once again his blood stirred. ‘Thank you. I do. But I enjoy it. Animals give you so much. Without agenda. Unconditionally.’
‘Do you have pets yourself? It must be hard not to take home all the cases that pull at your heart strings.’
‘I have a cat. Just one. She’s ten now. But she’s very independent—like me. Magic does her own thing, and when we both get home after a long day she either curls up on my lap or in my bed.’
Her face lit up as she spoke of Magic, but she blushed as she realised she’d referenced her bed to him.
A vision crossed his mind. That long dark hair of hers spread out over a pillow. Those almond-shaped smoky eyes looking at him, relaxed and inviting, as she lay tangled in a pure white sheet…
But he pushed the thought away. As lovely as Sydney was, he couldn’t go there. This was friendship. Nothing else. He had Anna to think about. And his health.
He had no idea for how long he would stay relatively unscathed by his condition. His MS had been classified as ‘relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis’. Which meant that he would have clear attacks of his symptoms, which would slowly get better and go away completely—until the next attack. But he knew that as the disease progressed his symptoms might not go away at all. They would linger. Stay. Get worse with each new attack, possibly leaving him disabled. But he was holding on to the thought that it wouldn’t happen soon. That he would stay in relative good health for a long time.
But he could not, in any good conscience, put anyone else through that. Who deserved that?
And he had a child to think about. A child who had already lost her mother because of him. Who did not know what it was like to have that kind of female influence in her life. Bringing someone home would be a shock to Anna. It might upset her. It might bring up all those questions about having a mother again.
Sydney Harper was just going to be his friend.
That was all.
He smiled as she talked, trying not to focus all of his attention on her mouth, and pushed thoughts of what it would be like to kiss her completely out of his head.
Later, he offered to walk her back to work.
‘Oh, that’s not necessary. You don’t have to do that,’ she protested.
‘I might as well. I’m heading that way to pick up my pager as I’m on call tonight.’
She nodded her reluctant acceptance and swung her bag over her shoulder. Together they exited into the street.
It was a cold November day. With blue skies, just a few wispy white clouds and a chill in the air when they moved into the shade and lost the sun.
They walked along together, respectfully a few inches apart. But she was so aware of him and trying her hardest not to be.
Nathan Jones was delicious. Of course she was physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? Aside from his good looks, this man was intelligent. A good listener. Not at all judgemental. He’d seemed really interested in her. He’d asked questions without being too probing and really paid attention to her answers.
She was very much aware that although they had just spent an hour in each other’s company she still didn’t know much about him. They’d both edged around serious subjects. They’d both avoided talk of past traumas and upsets. And they’d both kept everything light. Unthreatening. No mention of the baggage that each of them had to be carrying.
She liked that about him. It was as if he knew what she needed.
She frowned, spotting someone from the local council up a ladder, arranging the Christmas lights. ‘It gets earlier and earlier each year.’
Nathan nodded. ‘I love Christmas.’
She certainly didn’t want to talk to him about that!
She changed the subject. ‘Do you know your way around Silverdale yet?’ she asked him, aware that the village had many tiny roads, closes and cul-de-sacs. And now, with the new build of over two hundred new homes on the edge of Silverdale, a lot of new roads had popped up that even she was unfamiliar with.
‘Not really. But the GPS system in the car helps.’
‘If you ever need help finding your way I could help you out. I know most places. Just pop in and ask at the desk.’
He looked at her. ‘Thanks. If I ever get a call-out to the middle of nowhere I’ll be sure to call in and pick you up first.’
Sydney glanced at him quickly, then looked away. That was a joke, surely? She’d meant that he could call in to her work and ask whoever was on Reception.
She felt his gaze upon her then, and she flushed with heat as they came to a stop outside her veterinary practice.
‘Well, thank you for the tea. And the shortbread.’
‘It was my pleasure.’
‘I’ll see you at the end of the week? When you bring in Lottie again?’ she added.
The rabbit was due another check-up, so she could look at its eye and see if it needed removing or not.
‘Hopefully I’ll see you before that.’
Her heart pounded in her chest. What did he mean?
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re friends now, and friends see each other any time—not just at preordained appointments.’ He smiled and held out his hand.
She blushed. ‘Of course.’
She took his hand in hers and tried to give him a firm handshake, but she couldn’t. All she could think of was that he was touching her. And she him! And that his hand felt warm and strong. Protective. It felt good, and she briefly imagined what it might feel like if he pulled her into his arms and pressed her against his chest.
He let go, and when he did she felt an odd sense of disappointment.
Now, why am I feeling that?