The Family She Needs. Sue MacKay
TWO
LOGAN DRAGGED HIS eyes forward and headed to the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tight smile. He might have stopped staring at that bundle of unbridled energy, but her image still seared his brain. Her small body, with those clothes moulded to each and every curve, those enormous eyes the colour of the hot drinks he was about to make blinking out of that elfin face.
From the little he knew about her he understood that she’d walked away from an extremely comfortable life and all that entailed. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to be surprised by her energy for life. When he’d first seen Karina carrying on in the driveway, before Mickey had joined her, he’d thought she was a teenager playing hooky from school, not the qualified nurse taking care of his nephew.
He’d felt a delicious shock when he’d realised those curves certainly didn’t belong to a teenager, but instead to an all-grown-up woman. A very tempting grown-up woman. It wasn’t difficult to imagine running his hands over that body. Damn it. He couldn’t afford to get sidetracked, even for a few hours. He might have been living the life of a monk lately, but that would have to continue at least while he visited Motueka and sorted out Mickey’s future—starting with making arrangements to sell this place.
‘Kar—ina, where are you? I’m ready.’
Did Mickey ever talk in fewer decibels than a jet on take-off?
‘Coming, kiddo.’
At least Karina replied quietly, in a soft, almost caressing tone.
Caressing. As in stroking, touching …
Logan stomped through to the kitchen, where everything appeared spotless. Nothing like what he was used to in the over-used, under-tidied kitchens of Nigeria, where all energy went into helping people rather than putting things away in cupboards only so that someone could remove them again moments later. This was kind of a nice change. Homey.
Whoa. They were going to sell this place. Getting comfortable and cosy wasn’t an option.
He had no difficulty finding chocolate to go into the milk he’d put on to heat. A stack of bars stood right beside the tin of drinking chocolate powder in the pantry, along with packets of marshmallows. He popped a marshmallow in his mouth as he stirred the milk, savouring the sweet burst of flavour on his tongue.
Karina bounced into the small space, using up what little air there was, bumping him with her elbows or hips every time she moved—which was constantly. While those curves were now hidden under trousers and a chambray shirt, he knew they were there. Her hair was damp and curls were beginning to fly, adding to that waif-like appearance.
‘Will you look at that?’ She nodded in the direction of the window. ‘It’s already stopped raining. Put on for my benefit, was it?’ She came closer and peered into the pot. ‘Looking good. Pour Mickey’s before it gets too hot. He doesn’t like waiting for it to cool.’
Trying to ignore the scent of roses and damp hair wafting around her, Logan reached for the mug she held out. ‘Sure. He’s grown heaps since I was last here.’ Concentrate on Mickey and the perfume will eventually evaporate. He hoped.
‘Kids do tend to grow and change quite a bit in a year.’ She placed two more mugs on the bench. ‘I presume you’re joining us in our hot chocolate moment?’
‘Might as well.’
There hadn’t been a hint of sting in her words, and yet the guilt they caused tightened his gut enough to ache. He hadn’t been the best uncle, or brother, over the years. He knew that more than anyone.
‘I would’ve been back nearly two months ago except for an exceptional circumstance.’
Why justify himself to this woman? It was none of her business. Except …
‘I’m sorry you’ve had to shoulder all the responsibility for Mickey since James and Maria died.’ Not to mention the medical centre that had been James’s pride and joy, and had seemed too dull to him.
She shrugged. ‘No worries.’
‘Understatement your thing, is it?’
This house had had more than its share of problems due to lack of maintenance over the years. The lawyers had made sure he knew about every last fault. At least that was something he could, and would, fix. He had an appointment at two o’clock to talk to a real estate agent and get the property on the market. Getting it up to scratch was part of his agenda over the next few weeks.
‘Not that I’m aware.’ Karina opened a tin from the pantry and placed some cookies on a plate. ‘I’m sorry you missed the funeral. We held off as long as possible, but no one could track you down.’
Wow, she had a way of ramping up the guilt without even trying. His gut wanted to regurgitate that marshmallow.
‘There are often days—weeks in the rainy season— when all contact with the outside world is lost.’ He wasn’t going to mention that, where he’d been at that critical time, contact with anyone had been impossible.
A small hand rested on his forearm, orange-tipped fingers splaying lightly on his shirtsleeve. Each fingertip was a heat source, tripping through his chilled body and reminding him of easier times. Carefree times.
She said quietly, ‘I wasn’t having a poke at you. I understand the difficulties. James mentioned how hard it could be to get hold of you in Nigeria.’
If only the reason had been that simple. His eyes locked with hers, saw nothing but genuine sympathy there. Sympathy that should be tightening his shoulders and making him prove he didn’t need it but was instead undermining his determination to remain aloof and do what was needed as quickly as possible before he headed back to a world he understood.
But he didn’t understand it. Not any more. Strange how the easy look in Karina’s eyes made him long for a break, here, in this quiet town where people really were safe. To be able to take each day slowly, get his body back in shape, his head thinking straight, and to get to know his nephew. Time even to get to know Karina Brown.
Jerking his arm away, he snapped, ‘If it had been at all possible to get here I would’ve.’ He drew in a deep breath, tried for calm. ‘But it wasn’t possible.’
If he’d stepped one foot outside his prison hut his body would have been riddled with bullets and he’d have been left to the flies and the vultures.
Hot milk splashed on the bench as he poured the liquid into the mugs.
Karina deftly wiped up the spill before dropping two marshmallows on top of each drink. ‘Mickey, sit up at the table. You can have one cookie before lunch.’
She perched on a chair beside the boy, holding her mug in both hands, her gaze thoughtful. Was she trying to believe he’d been telling the truth?
‘How did you get on at the bank?’ he asked, in an attempt to distract her from his apparent failings as an uncle.
‘How did you know that’s where I was?’ She shifted on her chair, began twisting the mug back and forth between her hands.
‘Jonty mentioned it when I introduced myself.’
‘That surprises me.’ She sighed, then stood up abruptly. ‘I’d better go see if I’m needed before surgery closes for lunch. Keep an eye on Mickey, will you?’
Oh, no, you don’t.
Logan cut off her mad dash by taking her arm and holding on until she turned to look up at him. ‘I’ve been over there. Everything’s under control.’
‘You checked up on my surgery?’
Could those eyes get any bigger? ‘Isn’t it our surgery?’ he asked quietly. ‘I wasn’t checking up on anything. I was introducing myself.’
The air hissed over her bottom lip as she sagged in on herself. Pulling her arm away, she