Men In Uniform: Mad About The Doctor. Natalie Anderson
was just sounding me out, there’s nothing definite…’
‘Isn’t Cort coming back?’ Alison blinked, curious for other reasons. Cort had taken leave suddenly three months ago, and all the senior staff had been tight-lipped as to why—as Nick was being now.
‘It’s not that.’ He closed his eyes. ‘You can’t say anything.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ But Nick wouldn’t reveal any more. Still, that he was considering staying was what she wanted to hear, but she knew his struggle, because hers was the same. ‘What about Asia?’
‘I can’t do both.’
‘Could you, though?’ Alison asked. ‘Could you take more time off?’
‘They very reluctantly gave me this year.’ It was too much to think about, too much to consider, so he pulled her closer instead and there were forty-seven minutes, give or take, till she had to up and leave, and they both smiled at that pleasurable thought.
Both awake, and even if their minds were racing with new possibilities, their bodies were still pliant and just a little lazy, because they moved in just a little closer, and his legs wrapped around hers a little tighter. The bed was so warm and it felt so nice, and Alison gladly kissed him back, which was so much better than thinking about Asia and careers and sky-high bridges, except the thoughts were in the bed with them too, because it wasn’t fair, Alison thought, as his kiss deepened. It wasn’t bloody fair, his mouth agreed as he pulled her in tighter. A little lazy, a little bit angry, a little bit reckless, or just greedy for a little bit more. When he pulled her even closer, Alison didn’t move back, or away. She could feel his warm, heavy length between her legs, and she wanted him there, and he wanted to be there, because there he stayed a while.
She felt a low tremble in her body as he ran his tip over her moist place, she could feel his kiss deepen even more, feel the tightening of her throat and the flood of desire that bade him on, not consciously, more naturally, just a deepening kiss at both ends of their bodies, and he was just a little way in and her body willed him to go further, beat for him to join her. But sense hauled them back from that dangerous place, Nick rolling over and sheathing himself, Alison dizzy at what they had almost done but grateful for common sense prevailing. Then he was back and, yes, they were both angry, not with the other but at time that wouldn’t pause. With every thrust she counted the days and her hips rose, defiant at the injustice.
She was angry.
And he let her be.
He let her be selfish and taste his mouth and his chest for as long as she wanted, he let her tension rise till she thought she might push him off, because she didn’t know how to feel like this, she didn’t know how far she could go. So he showed her, he pushed her, he waited for her, till she stopped counting the days and berating the past, stopped chasing the future till she was in an empty, silent space that was theirs alone to fill—with her scream and his release, with new sensations, deeper sensations than either had felt before.
And something shifted, something definitely shifted, because a little while later, when the alarm bleeped its warning, for the first time Nick grumbled, pulled her back when she said she had to go. ‘Stay a bit longer,’ Nick said. And she did.
Alison reset the alarm and climbed back in, wondering if in a few weeks he’d do the same for her.
LIKE Louise Haversham’s toothache, sometimes the agony woke her, but for a while, if she didn’t push or probe, Nick’s nearing departure was kept at a niggle, a gnawing in the background. Two months had never seemed long enough. In fact, by the time she’d met him, a week of that had already passed, by the time she’d decided to just go for it, another week, and since then she’d seen Sydney thorough the eyes of a tourist, had been on whale-watching trips and a jet-board ride, though she’d declined his suggestion for a tandem sky dive! With the keys to the flat soon to be hers, they were in the final countdown and it wasn’t just her feeling it, at every turn she was reminded of the fact. But the hint that Cort’s return might be delayed was her ray of hope on the horizon and Alison was determined to let it shine.
‘These are for you!’ David said. ‘For all of you.’ But he smiled especially at Alison as he handed over a large tin of chocolates and he was a different man indeed from the one she had met just a month ago. ‘Rebecca’s here for her outpatient appointment. We just wanted to stop by and thank everyone.’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Alison jumped down from her stool and accepted the chocolates. It rarely happened, but when patients came back, it was a treat indeed.
‘How’s the arm?’ Alison asked, and she was thrilled to see Rebecca wiggle all her fingers.
‘I’m doing loads of physio, but I’m getting there.’ She smiled as Nick and Amy came over and she showed them her moving fingers again.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ David said to Nick. ‘We thought you might be back on your travels.’
‘A couple more weeks yet,’ Nick said, and Amy rolled her eyes.
‘What will we do without you?’
And that niggle was flaring. It was a line Alison was starting to hear far too often when she was around Nick, and it shot an arrow into her heart each and every time she heard it.
‘We really are grateful,’ David said, and Alison looked at his suit and his smile and the new-found confidence in this family and knew what was coming. ‘I got that job, by the way.’
‘Fantastic.’ She could not have been more pleased. ‘That’s marvellous.’ She was delighted for them all.
‘Hello, there!’ Ellie joined them and chatted for a moment. ‘Has it really been a month?’
And it had been and it was, because just a couple of days later Alison had a mortgage and a set of keys.
‘I don’t remember the carpet being this green.’ She walked around with Nick and wondered if she’d bought the same place. ‘Were the walls really brown?’
‘It will look great with furniture.’ Nick was optimistic and then realistic. ‘And a coat of paint.’ He saw her glance up at the grey ceiling and then blow her fringe skywards at the job ahead. ‘I’ll help you. We can go and look at paint this evening and get it done over the next few days.’
‘You’ve got better things to do than paint a flat,’ Alison pointed out.
‘No.’ He pulled her towards him. ‘I like spending time with you—here.’ He pulled out a present from the bag he had been carrying that had had Alison wondering, and she opened it and it was a plant in a bright red pot that he put on the tiny balcony table. ‘That’s the garden sorted.’
Then he pulled out champagne and, of course, he’d forgotten glasses, but as they had that night on the beach they sat on the floor and drank from the bottle. Though it was cool and fizzy, Alison just had a mouthful because, yes, the flat was hers and Nick was here and it was a great day, but somehow she was finding it hard to feel like celebrating, especially when Nick pointed out she should hold off getting her furniture delivered till the flat had been painted. It was practical, sensible of course, but she wanted to move in so badly.
‘We’ll get it done in a week,’ Nick said. ‘Then we’ve still got…’ His voice trailed off, because then all they would have was a week.
And it just got ever closer—the future was fast approaching and it caught up at six p.m. on the Friday. Alison was trying to wrestle damp legs into her stockings as her mum chatted to Nick in the lounge.
There was a seafood restaurant at the Quay Nick wanted to try and even if it was supposed to be gorgeous and the views and food to die for, Alison was exhausted and, frankly, a box of noodles and a DVD would have sufficed.
She