Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

Did she mind? No way. The lumps in the old one gave her bruises every time she sat on it. Shaking her head, she stared first at the navy-blue suite that matched her apricot walls perfectly, then at the man who’d bought this furniture. ‘It’s wonderful, but why? I mean, you didn’t have to do that.’

‘Oh, yes, I did. If I’m staying the night, I want to get some sleep, which I most certainly wouldn’t on your couch. I’d probably never walk upright again. This one folds out into a fairly comfortable bed. I tried it in the shop.’

‘If you’re staying the night?’ Had she misheard him? ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s Christmas. I thought it’d be fun being here in the morning when the kids open their stockings.’ He hesitated, a flicker of doubt shadowing his denim eyes. ‘Is that all right with you?’

Her mouth dried. Kieran staying the night? In her house? She’d never get any sleep thinking of him tucked up out here and her just down the hall. ‘Sure, of course it is.’ Could he see her uncertainty in her face, hear it in the wobble of her voice? Try harder. ‘It’s a lovely idea. I’m only sorry you had to provide your own bed.’

That heart-melting smile that never failed to tumble her emotions beamed down at her. ‘I don’t have to use this one.’

‘Oh, yes, you do.’ Where had her father got to? Had he overheard? A quick glance around. No one else with them. Phew.

Kieran flicked her lightly under the chin. ‘I agree. It’s not the time for us to be getting too close and personal, what with over-excited children in the house likely to wake up at any hour. More’s the pity.’

Pity? Downright shame, her brain screamed. But in her heart she knew it was best. It couldn’t happen. Kieran wasn’t a stayer, and that was the only kind of man she’d be interested in. Something inside kicked her ribs, and she gasped. What? She was never going to be interested in any kind of man. Remember? But apparently she’d forgotten because it was far too late. She was very, very interested in Kieran Flynn. Somewhere between patients and kids he’d managed to wind a thread around her and draw her in. She was more than hooked. She was a goner.

Abby tripped in her haste to put some space between them, which only brought Kieran closer as he caught her elbow to steady her. She stared up at him, and felt tenderness steal across her tense muscles as she noted the black curls falling over his forehead, giving him a rakish look. Her fingers itched as she fought not to reach up and touch those gorgeous locks.

She pulled away and stumbled out to the car to get the berries and other bits and pieces she’d collected throughout the day. Her heart hammered into her lungs, her ribs. Of all the stupid things to do, she’d gone and fallen for the man now preparing to spend the whole night under her roof.

This particular Christmas Eve would be the longest in the history of Abby Brown.

‘I thought you might like to see these.’ Abby stood over Kieran as he sprawled across the new couch, watching a lightweight movie. The children were finally asleep. Olivia’s excitement about Santa had been a big deterrent to going to bed.

Kieran sat up, aware of the hesitation in Abby’s voice, the way her hand wasn’t quite letting go of the package she held out to him. His heart sped up. ‘Are these the letters and photos you intended sending me and never did?’

She nodded. ‘I figure it’s time you saw them.’ Her shoulders lifted slightly. ‘But if you’re not interested, that’s okay.’

Vulnerability sat over her like a heavy shawl. Had she opened herself up to him that much in these letters? ‘Abby, are you sure you want me to read them?’ He caught her hand, felt the tremors running through her.

‘Yes.’ She jerked her hand away, backed to the door. ‘Yes, I do.’ And she was gone.

Kieran sat back, staring at the manila envelope. Judging by the thickness Abby had written often, or were there mainly photos inside? Suddenly unable to hold off, he tore the envelope open and upended it. Photos and letters, notes even, tumbled out onto his thighs. A photo of Abby holding Seamus as he waved at the camera lay on top. Here was the beginning of Seamus’s life. Here was a window into all the things he’d missed out on. Was he ready for this?

Now his fingers were shaking as he reached to the pile of photos. Slowly he made his way through them back to the day of Seamus’s birth. His breath stopped. His heart expanded. An exhausted but jubilant Abby held a tiny blue-swathed bundle in her arms. She looked gorgeous. If only he’d been there to see that moment. To experience the joy at the arrival of their son.

He’d missed out on that. Whose fault was that? To be sure, he hadn’t known about the pregnancy, but even if he had, would he have been there for Seamus’s birth? He didn’t have the answer.

Tentatively he reached for the first letter, addressed to him at his Dublin apartment. Did he want to know all the details about Seamus’s first months? Did he need to know how Abby had felt during those weeks when she’d learned to look after her son? His finger tapped a rhythm on the letter. Reaching for his glass of lukewarm wine, he took a long swallow. Then opened the envelope.

Time passed. The sun set, dropping behind the trees, and Kieran flicked the light on before settling down to read the extraordinary letters all over again. Abby had bared her heart in each of them. He wondered if she realised how much she’d given away of herself as she’d described Seamus to him. Kieran laughed over the boy peeing across the room during a diaper change. He sympathised about the nights when colic had kept everyone awake. And he wiped his eyes when Abby described her panic when Seamus had stubbed his toe the first time and she’d believed he must’ve caught it on some rusty wire.

‘I panicked about tetanus poisoning. A fine ED nurse I turned out to be, but it’s so different when it’s your child,’ she had written.

That Kieran could believe. His own reactions to children in ED had changed since meeting Seamus. He’d changed in other ways, too. He no longer blamed Abby for not telling him she was pregnant. It hurt to acknowledge he’d missed out on so much because of his own stubbornness, but it was the truth. By being so adamant about staying out of Olivia’s life, he’d made it an impossible situation for Abby. Whether it had been guilt over Olivia, or a niggling sense of missing out on something indefinable, he thanked his lucky stars he’d chosen Nelson over Adelaide for these two months.

Movement in the doorway caused him to glance up. Abby stood watching him, uncertainty in her eyes. Instantly he was on his feet, going to her, taking her hands.

‘Abby, I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to tell me.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You are?’

‘Absolutely. Under the circumstances I wouldn’t have told me either. I can only blame myself for what I’ve missed out on.’

It was disconcerting, the way she studied him. Then her lips slowly spread into a smile. ‘That’s the best Christmas present I could have wished for.’

‘Here, get that into you.’ Abby handed Kieran a mug of coffee. She felt good this morning after a really good sleep. Kieran’s apology had wiped away a lot of tension. ‘It might make you feel less rough at such an early start.’

‘Being tickled awake at five-forty in the morning is certainly a new experience. Why didn’t we think of drugging these two last night?’ He winked.

Despite his beleaguered expression Kieran looked totally at home. Olivia and Seamus were tucked one each side of him in the pullout bed. Bulging red velvet stockings were strewn over his feet. Abby’s heart did a roll. If only this particular Christmas wouldn’t be a one-off. If only they were a real family.

Kieran grinned up at her. ‘I didn’t have a clue what I was in for when I decided to camp here for the night. Is Christmas morning always like this?’

‘Yes. Last year Seamus was too young to understand but Olivia and I certainly made up for him. We got excited about what Santa had brought her.’

‘Can I open Santa’s presents now?’ Olivia demanded. ‘Uncle K

ieran said we had to wait for you.’

‘Of course you can.’ Abby raised an eyebrow at Kieran. ‘Just how did you manage to keep these two in check?’

‘You don’t want to know. Ouch.’ Olivia’s elbow connected with Kieran’s midriff as she clambered over him to reach her stocking.

A loud knocking on the back door was quickly followed by her father calling out, ‘I’ve come to join in the fun.’

‘Do you think we could postpone the party.’ Kieran raised two fingers on each hand to indicate brackets ‘.until I’ve got up from bed and into my jeans?’

‘You’ll have to be quick,’ Abby laughed. Then her mouth dried.

Kieran had tossed the sheet back and was clambering out, carefully avoiding children and stockings. Dressed in boxers and a T-shirt, he was sight enough to make her temporarily forget all about Christmas. Wow. As his jeans slid up his thighs she knew she should look away but her eyes seemed to have lost the ability to rotate in their sockets.

‘Merry Christmas, everyone.’ Her father spoke from some distant planet.

‘Granpa,’ Olivia squealed, and charged him, Seamus toddling right behind her.

Thankful for the interruption, Abby finally managed to drag her recalcitrant eyes away from Kieran and go and hug her father. ‘Merry Christmas to you, Dad.’

He squeezed her back before swinging Olivia up into his arms for a big hug.

Then Kieran was at Abby’s side, slipping a soft kiss onto her cheek. ‘Where’s my Christmas hug, huh?’ A second silky kiss brushed her now warm cheek. ‘Happy Christmas, Abby.’

She turned her head. Big mistake. Her mouth brushed his. Mumbling some silly reply, she jerked away and dashed into the kitchen to make a coffee for her dad.

Fidgeting with the mug and teaspoon as she waited for the water to boil, she stared out into the orchard. The apricots were ripening fast now, their golden colour bright in the early morning light. Or did everything out there look brighter than normal? Yes, even the sky held a depth of blue she’d never noticed this early in the morning before. Had her eyesight changed overnight? It was as though someone had gone around with a paintbrush making everything much more vibrant than usual.