‘Like I always did.’
‘You stole my jackets or coats whenever we were out. And they were way too big for you.’
And when he’d put one of those jackets on later there’d always be a hint of Fiona’s perfume on them. For weeks after she’d left him he’d wear a jacket just to have something of her with him. Eventually the scent had faded, disappeared, and he’d been left only with memories.
Craig and Kerry’s laughter broke through his reminiscing, drew him back to listen to Fiona telling amusing anecdotes about her experiences overseas. She continued to enthral them all so that dinner passed quickly.
Tom sipped his wine and smiled internally. Tonight had turned out to be fun. Everyone was relaxed, Fiona had been entertaining, and he’d stopped worrying about what she might want to talk about with him. Yes, this took him back to nights out in the early days of their marriage.
Just then the woman in his mind looked up and he smiled at her. She gave him a slow wink. His gut clenched. In the old days when they were out with other people that wink could have meant, Aren’t we having fun? or it could have been saying Isn’t this so boring? Let’s get out of here. Tonight he figured she meant they were having fun. Tonight he’d sit back and continue to enjoy his evening, and pretend they were like any other normal couple.
Kerry spooned sugar into her coffee, saying thoughtfully, ‘I can see why you’d want to go back after your leave’s finished.’
Tom’s hand stilled on his cup. Did she want to go back? Of course she would. Anyone listening to her for the last half-hour would know full well how much she’d loved what she’d been doing. Her face had come alive as she’d talked about the people she’d helped and the places she’d worked in. Fiona had found her niche in life. Once Fiona became passionate about something she didn’t let go. Not easily, anyway.
She had let go of their marriage. But easily? No, they’d both struggled to make it work. They’d failed each other because neither had known what to do about the dreadful situation they’d found themselves in.
Fiona explained to Kerry, ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. The last three years have been wonderful, but now that I’m back home I’m starting to realise there are so many things I’ve been missing. Friends, family…’ She hesitated.
What family? Her father? Her mother had died before she and Tom had married. Him? Had she missed him at all?
‘A sense of belonging,’ she concluded.
This was something new. The old Fi had slotted in anywhere by dint of making everything around her hers.
Her eyes slid in his direction. ‘I know I’ve only been here a little over twenty-four hours, but already I can see what you’re doing at the hospital is awesome.’
Warmth crept over him. It felt good to know she approved of what he was doing. ‘Thanks, but it’s not just about me.’
‘True. He needs the rest of us to make tea and coffee and keep the cookie jar in his office full,’ quipped Kerry.
Craig leaned closer to Tom and spoke quietly, ‘Think you can persuade her to stay?’
‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’ Did he even want her to stay? In what capacity? Specialist—yes. He could always put her skills to good use. But how would he cope having her living in the same small village twenty-four-seven? And why was he even considering the idea? He didn’t believe in second chances.
In Theatre the next morning Fiona told Kerry, ‘You can bring Megan round now. I’m done.’
Snapping her latex gloves as she tugged them off, Fiona looked down at the little girl and smiled. The skin graft to repair a nasty burn from a log falling out of a firebox onto Megan’s leg had gone very well. ‘There you go, my little lion cub. That leg should look a lot better in a few days.’
‘I heard about a bit of an African scene in the games room last night,’ Kerry commented as she read printouts. ‘Apparently our boss makes a terrific roar, and looks quite sexy on his hands and knees with his backside pointing skyward.’
‘Who’s been blabbing?’ Fiona asked, amused that the staff had found Tom’s participation in the game she’d made up worthy of gossip.
‘Megan told me all about it while I prepped her. Not the bit about Tom looking sexy. That came from Liz. Of course I asked for all the finer details. Seems you weave a good yarn too.’
‘I’ve had plenty of practice.’ Fiona tried not to think about Tom’s backside—for all of two seconds. His derrière was very sexy. She’d always found him physically attractive. Studying him now, seeing the little crinkles at the corners of his mouth, ‘I wish I’d known.’
The scraping sound Tom’s chair made on the tile floor as he stood up screeched across her brain. The hand that touched, held her chin, felt gentle as it tipped her head back so that she looked into the deep, sad pools of Tom’s eyes. ‘So do I, but we can’t undo the past now.’
‘I might have acted differently—might not have given you such a hard time for not talking to me.’ But he had talked to her tonight, ever so slightly—about his friend. About something that had hurt him badly as a child. And still hurt him.
He shifted his head slowly from side to side. ‘Don’t go there, Fi.’ Sadness puckered his mouth.
She blinked, forced herself to look away. Years ago she’d done a lifetime’s worth of crying, had been dry-eyed for nearly five years now. That was why she shouldn’t be thinking of wanting Tom back. Everyone knew that once you got into a relationship with anyone—husband, lover, child, even a friend—there were going to be tears somewhere along the way.
‘You’re right, of course.’ She covered his hand with hers, felt his warmth.
‘For years I blamed myself for Billy’s death. It’s only recently I’ve accepted that more than one thing went wrong that day to culminate in a tragic accident.’
‘Recently?’ Since Liam’s death? She wanted to ask him, but she was afraid he might withdraw from her again and she didn’t want that. Not now, when he’d actually spoken to her about something so important to him.
Right now she was desperate to hold him in her arms and kiss away the pain in those beautiful eyes that she’d fallen in love with such a long time ago.
What held her back? Was she afraid he’d push her away? And if he did? At least she’d have tried. She stepped closer to him, and reached to touch his face. Her fingers moved of their own accord, tracing his mouth, reliving the memories of the curve of his chin, his cheekbones. She stretched up on her toes and touched his lips with hers. He trembled under her touch, made no move to draw away—or nearer.
She swallowed, pressed her lips closer, savoured him. It wasn’t enough. She slid her tongue across his lips, shivered in the heady mix of wine and Tom.
His hands caught her upper arms, pushed her just far enough away from him to break the contact with her mouth. ‘Fiona, don’t. We—This isn’t right.’
Her whisper croaked through her closed throat. ‘I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I arrived.’
Tom stared at her, his mouth softening before he groaned, hauled her against him, and crushed his mouth to hers. A hard, demanding kiss that touched every cell in her body. A kiss that caressed fires that had been smothered for far too long.
She leaned into him, pressed as close as possible, flattening her breasts against his chest. And she wasn’t close enough. She pushed her thighs against his. Her skin crackled with longing. Her mouth was filled with Tom, his tongue seeking, exploring, tasting. She tasted and explored right back. She’d come home. They belonged together.
Then abruptly Tom was setting her away from him, leaving her blinking like a rabbit in headlights. What had happened? ‘Tom?’
‘Sorry, we shouldn’t be doing this.’ His hands dragged down his cheeks as he stumbled backwards. ‘There’s too much between us to be even thinking about getting close and personal.’
‘I should be the one to apologise. I started it.’ What had she been thinking of, kissing Tom? She hadn’t been thinking at all. There lay the problem.
/> Tom snatched up his jacket and all but ran out of the room, muttering over his shoulder, ‘I need to catch up on some paperwork.’
Paperwork? Fiona shrugged. Right, whatever. It was probably for the best. Their kiss had begun to really crank up into something she wasn’t so sure she’d have been able to stop if they’d carried on much longer. Would they have ended up making love? And then what? Tom had made it plain he wasn’t interested in rekindling their relationship. That hadn’t been her intention either when she’d first arrived.
It still wasn’t.
Just do the job and go away, she chanted in her head. Do the job and go away. Forget trying to put the past to rest. It wasn’t going to lie down, so she might as well leave it be.
But her heart was aching.
Tom kicked at a clump of snow on his front step. What he really needed was to get his head read. How could he have kissed Fiona? How could he have let her get even that close to him?
Hold up. She’d kissed him first. A sweet kiss that had sneaked in under his ribs and tickled his heart. Yeah, and he’d been quick to run with it, deepen it, until all his resolve to stay clear of Fiona had just disappeared as fast as the snap of his fingers. He smacked his forehead with his palm. How could he have taken her in his arms and put his lips to hers? Because that first kiss had fried his brain cells, had made him feel as though he’d finally found what he’d been looking for ever since Fiona had left him. That sense of being in the right place with the right person, the one woman who had been able to get beneath his skin and make him feel like he belonged, had returned as quickly as it took to start a kiss.
Stomping along the path heading away from the hospital, he tried to squash the feeling that he was losing control over his emotions. He searched for the inner strength that he always applied when the hurt and anger and bewilderment he felt around Fiona threatened to topple his world, but tonight he couldn’t put those feelings back in their place. He wanted her! Badly! She hummed in his blood. She stirred him so deeply it frightened him. His pulse thumped in his head.