Special Deliveries: Wanted: A Daddy. Amanda Berry
would be careless and irresponsible,’ Jasmine said.
He sort of blew out his breath. ‘Jasmine …’ He was right on the edge here, Jed realised, shocked at himself. ‘I apologise.’
‘No need to apologise,’ Jasmine said. ‘Or should I?’
‘Of course not.’ His mouth was there, right there, they were holding each other, restraining the other, and both still dangerously close to resuming what they mustn’t. She could hear their breathing, fast and ragged and fighting to slow, and slowly too they let go of each other.
Her blouse was undone, just one button, and she didn’t really know how, but he looked away as she did it up and moved away from him to pick up the flask she had dropped. She left him setting up his IV and went to head back out, but she could still taste him, was still not thinking straight. And then Lisa came in.
‘Shouldn’t you be heading home?’
‘I couldn’t find the paediatric sodium bicarb,’ Jasmine said. ‘There’s only one left after this.’
‘Thanks,’ Lisa said. ‘I’ll get Joan to add it to the pharmacy order. Thanks for everything, Jasmine. I know that can’t have been an easy shift.’
‘How are the parents?’
‘They’re spending some time with him. The hospital chaplain is in with them and the police have been lovely.’ Lisa looked at Jasmine. ‘Maybe go and get a coffee before you go home.’
‘I think I just want my bed,’ Jasmine admitted. ‘I just need to finish the crash trolley off and order some more of this.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Lisa took the flask from her and they stepped aside as Jed walked past with his IV trolley. Very deliberately, neither met the other’s eye.
‘You go to bed and get a well-earned rest,’ Lisa said.
Fat chance of that.
Jasmine did have a cup of coffee before she drove home.
Except she certainly wasn’t hanging around to see Jed. Instead, she chose to head to the kiosk and get a takeaway.
And, of course, on the way to her car, she rang her mum.
‘How was Simon last night?’ Jasmine asked the second her mum answered.
‘Fantastic. I haven’t heard a peep out of him.’
‘He’s not up yet?’
‘No, but he didn’t go down to sleep till quite late.’
‘You’ve checked him, though?’ Jasmine could hear the anxiety in her voice
‘I checked him before I went to bed. Jasmine, it’s eight a.m. Surely it’s good if he’s having a little lie-in when he often has to be up at six for crèche?’
‘Mum …’
She heard her mother’s weary sigh as she walked through the house and then silence for a moment. She was being ridiculous, but even so, she needed the reassurance.
‘He’s asleep,’ her mum said, ‘and, yes, he’s breathing.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Bad night?’
‘Bad morning.’
‘I’m sorry.’ And then Louise started to laugh. ‘He’s just woken up—can you hear him?’
Jasmine smiled at the lovely morning sounds Simon made, calling out to anyone who was there, but she was dangerously close to tears a second later as she realised again just how lucky she was.
‘Go and have a nice sleep and I’ll see you here for dinner.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Her mum could be so nice, Jasmine mused as she drove home. When she had Simon she was wonderful with him. Jasmine completely understood that her mother didn’t want to be a permanent babysitter and she decided that when she woke up she was going to ring Ruby, Vanessa’s babysitter, and maybe get together and see if they could work something out.
All the drive home she thought very practical thoughts, aware she was a little bit more than tired.
And upset.
And confused.
She parked in the carport and looked over at the beach, wondered if a walk might be soothing, but knowing her luck Jed would be running there soon and another encounter with him was the last thing either of them needed now.
So she showered and tried to block out the day with her blinds, set her alarm and did her level best not to think of those poor parents and what they were doing right now, but even trying not to think about them made her cry.
And it made her cry too, that she had been here twelve weeks now and Simon’s father hadn’t even rung once to see how he was, neither had he responded to the occasional photo of his son she sent him.
And then she got to the confusing part and she wasn’t crying now as she went over the latter part of her shift.
Instead she was cringing as her mind wandered to a man who at every turn bemused her, and then to the kiss that they had shared.
She hadn’t been kissed like that, ever.
Their response to each other’s kiss had been so immediate, so consuming that, really, had the intercom not gone off, they’d have been unstoppable, and she burnt in embarrassment at the thought of what Lisa might have come in and found.
And she burnt, too, because in truth it was a side to him she had known was there—something she had felt the second he had jogged up to her on the beach. Jed was the first man to move her in a very long time, but she had never thought her feelings might be reciprocated, had never expected the ferocity of that kiss.
And she’d do very well to forget about it!
They had both been upset, Jasmine decided.
Angry.
Over-emotional.
It had been a one-off. She turned over and very deliberately closed her eyes. Yes, it would be a bit awkward facing him tonight but, hell, she’d faced worse.
She’d just pretend it had never happened.
And no doubt so would he.
She had her whole life to sort out without confusing things further.
And a man like Jed Devlin could only do that.
‘MUM!’ SIMON SAID it more clearly than he ever had before, and Jasmine scooped him up and cuddled him in tight the second she got to her mum’s.
‘You’re early,’ Louise commented. ‘I said you didn’t need to be here till five.’
‘I didn’t sleep very well,’ Jasmine admitted. ‘I’m going to go shopping at the weekend for some decent blinds.’ Not that that was the entire reason! ‘How has he been?’
‘Okay. He’s been asking after you a lot,’ Louise said, when Jasmine rather wished that she wouldn’t as she already felt guilty enough. ‘Right, I’d better get ready.’
Louise appeared a little while later in a smart navy suit, with heels and make-up, looking every bit the professional real estate agent. ‘How did you do it Mum?’ Jasmine asked. ‘I mean, you had evening appointments when we were little.’
‘You were older than Simon when your dad left,’ Louise pointed out. ‘Penny’s a good bit older than you and she was born sensible—I used to ask the neighbour to listen out for you. It was different times then,’ she admitted.
Maybe,