The Baby Gift: Wishing for a Miracle. Alison Roberts
nights of reliving said kiss and her imagination hadn’t held back in exploring what might have happened if they’d been somewhere other than an open car park. Or if she hadn’t pulled away and then done her best to dismiss the moment by cracking a stupid joke about it.
The night time was manageable. Private. A guilty but irresistible pleasure.
It was the day time workings of her overactive imagination that was causing the nerves. So many scenarios had presented themselves. The worst was an awkward coolness between herself and Mac that everyone would notice and would make working together a misery instead of a joy.
At the other end of the spectrum, she could imagine an escalation of attraction which drew them together like human magnets. And that would probably have exactly the same effect due to the kind of tension it would create.
The best she could hope for was something in the middle. A return to the status quo but with a connection that had been deepened. A step towards a genuine friendship perhaps.
That was what Julia really wanted.
‘Who are you trying to kid?’ she muttered at her reflection, pausing in disgust as she realised what she was about to do.
In disgust, she threw the mascara wand back into the drawer. Make-up was an occasional indulgence and only ever used for a night out. Never for work. What was she thinking?
As if she didn’t know!
‘Focus,’ she ordered herself, tucking the black T-shirt with the red SERT insignia into her black trousers.
‘On your career,’ she specified, lacing up her steel-capped black boots. ‘Like Anne does. It’s all you need to do.’
She tied the knots in the laces tightly. ‘You’re going to be the best you possibly can be in a job you absolutely love,’ she said aloud.
The determined talk to herself was helpful. It worked right through the fifteen-minute drive from the farm cottage she was leasing and got her through parking close to that big, black vehicle and the stone wall that marked the spot where the kiss had happened.
The flashback was so powerful she actually raised her hand to touch her lips, convinced she could feel the pressure of his all over again. Impossible not to push that mental rewind button as she had so many times already. Back to before the kiss had happened. To that delicious waiting. Knowing what was about to happen and experiencing a more intense anticipation than she would have believed anything could engender.
Julia tore her gaze away from the wall. She could stop doing this. Stop thinking about it. She couldn’t stop that odd kick in her gut, though, or the tingles that shot out from it to spread throughout her entire body but she could—and did—ignore their significance. It was nothing more than a physical thing. She could deal with this.
At least, she could until she walked into the messroom and saw what it was that she really wanted, standing there beside the bench, making coffee.
Mac.
Tall. Solid. Julia eyed his back cautiously, hoping like hell he wouldn’t turn around until she got her errant mind—and body—back under control.
He’s not even that good looking, she thought somewhat desperately. He’s…rugged. His nose and mouth are a bit big and he’s got that odd dimple in the middle of his chin. And he looks older than he is. Kind of weathered.
And he’s got some other woman he cares about. One with long, blonde hair.
Yes. Maybe this was the track to take. It certainly felt like a splash of cold water. Julia poked her fingers through her own hair, making the spikes more prominent.
A pixie cut, the hairdresser had promised, but it looked more like a hedgehog now that it had grown out a little. Appropriate, really, given her short, little legs.
That blonde woman was probably tall. And beautiful.
And that was fine, because she wasn’t interested in Mac as anything other than a colleague.
Oh, Lord. This was going to be every bit as dreadful as she’d feared. That kiss had unleashed something that had to be chained up again. Currently it felt like something far too wild to even begin trying to handle. It was too hard to move her feet and take the first step in any attempt. Her heart was thumping and her stomach was tying itself into a painful knot.
And then Mac turned his head. ‘Hey, Jules. Want a coffee?’
It was exactly what he would have said last week. In exactly the same kind of tone. The knot inside began to melt and Julia’s heart gave a peculiar kind of wiggle and then settled into a steady rhythm she could ignore. It was going to be OK.
She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
And here it was. The first challenge. Eye contact that would be far too easy to maintain and allow to continue long enough to be significant. To send messages that Julia had no intention of transmitting. But Mac’s glance only brushed hers. Just a whisper of contact. The kind you might make with a complete stranger.
It should have been reassuring.
It certainly shouldn’t feel like a physical shove to push her away and even if it did, it shouldn’t feel this disappointing.
The Sunday papers were still scattered all over the big table in the kitchen area. Julia made an effort and shifted her focus.
‘They took some great pictures, didn’t they? I love that one of you and Carla being winched up. You should contact the paper and see if you can get a copy.’
‘The TV footage was even better.’ Mac came towards her, carrying two steaming mugs. He put one in front of Julia and then sat down. ‘They caught you climbing into the carriage. Did you see it?’
‘No.’ Julia was happy to follow Mac’s example and sit down. Maybe she could relax all those tense muscles now because Mac sounded completely normal. As though the kiss had never happened. Her smile was rueful. ‘I think my sister did, though. She’s planning my obituary in case I don’t make it back home.’
Mac smiled. Just one of those crooked, half-smiles he was so good at but Julia was aware of that melting sensation inside again. She reached for her mug and cupped her hands around it as though needing the comfort of its warmth.
‘I heard you telling Ken about her. She sounds pretty special.’
Julia risked an upward glance. This was different. A conversation about something personal? But Mac’s expression was simply interested. She couldn’t read anything more into this step onto new territory.
She shrugged. ‘Yeah…probably not the done thing to share one’s life history with a patient but he needed distraction.’
Mac was pulling a section of the newspaper closer, signalling that the personal conversation was over, but then Julia was surprised again.
‘Not many people get raised by a sibling,’ he said.
‘No. She’s an amazing person.’ Julia was happy to talk about this. This was exactly the kind of conversations that colleagues on the way to being friends could have. ‘She was only six and I was a baby when Mum died but Dad always said she grew up overnight and turned into a mother instead of a sister. When she wasn’t at school she had to be the one looking after me, and woe betide any nanny who tried to interfere.’
Mac raised an eyebrow. ‘Determination is a family trait, then?’
‘Yeah…’ Was that a compliment of some kind? Way too hard to tell and why on earth was she bothered, anyway? She really, really didn’t want this kind of emotional roller-coaster going on in her head.
She could ignore it and it would go away. Julia concentrated on her coffee for the short silence that followed. In the normal run of things, they might have a brief conversation but then they’d probably look at the papers while they finished their drinks. Or discuss what the day might bring. There was no one else on station at the