Expecting Miracle Twins

He looked directly into her eyes and he smiled.

Mattie swallowed. What could she say? It would be pathetic to trot out a feeble excuse about her friend being delayed. Somehow, she just knew that Jake would expose her as a fraud.

While she sat there, feeling silly, Jake held out his hand. ‘How do you do?’ He smiled with effortless charm. ‘I’m Jake Devlin. Do you mind if I join you?’

She expected to see a teasing glint in his eyes but, to her surprise, she could only find genuine warmth. Nevertheless, she hesitated.

‘Come on, say yes,’ Jake urged. ‘Otherwise you’ll force me to try my pick-up lines.’

‘Are they corny?’

‘So bad you could feed them to chickens.’

His confession was accompanied by a lopsided self-deprecating grin that melted Mattie on the spot. She suspected that Jake had seen right through her, but it somehow no longer mattered. He was wiping their slate clean. Starting again. And she was enchanted. Caught. Hook, line and sinker.

‘You’re welcome to sit here, Mr Devlin.’

‘Thank you.’ He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her and happiness fizzed inside Mattie like soda pop.

Following his lead, she held out her hand. ‘How do you do? I’m Matilda Carey.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Jake’s expression was deadpan. ‘Do your friends call you Mattie?’

‘Quite often.’ She gave a little shrug and added rather recklessly, ‘At times they’ve been known to call me Florence Nightingale.’ She didn’t mention the other tag that she hated—Saint Matilda.

‘Is that accurate? Are you a caring type?’

‘’Fraid so.’

The skin around his eyes crinkled and he cocked his head on one side. ‘Let me guess. You’re probably the kind of girl who cares for sick grannies.’

Mattie’s sense of fun faltered. Was he teasing her? Uncertain, she quickly changed the subject. ‘I’ve already ordered. I’m having the chicken noodle soup.’

‘I think I’ll try the beef stir-fry.’ Jake waved to a waitress and, when she came over, he gave his order. ‘And I’ll have a beer.’ Turning to Mattie again, he asked, ‘Would you like another glass of wine?’

She tapped the side of her glass. ‘This is fine.’

When the waitress left, Jake leaned towards Mattie, hands linked on the table top. His smile faded and, with it, all pretence dropped away. ‘Seriously, Mattie, I’ve been thinking about what you did for your grandmother. That was a huge gesture, to spend two years looking after her.’

She took a quick sip of her wine to cover her surprise, then set the glass down.

‘Did it feel like a big sacrifice?’ he asked urgently.

‘Not at all. Those two years were rather lovely. Gran was always so sweet. So grateful for my company. She never complained about her health.’

‘Was she very ill?’

‘She had a weak heart, so she tired easily and she couldn’t take proper care of her house, but I was happy to help.’

‘What do you reckon would have happened if you hadn’t looked after her?’

‘She’d probably have gone into a nursing home. My parents run a hardware store in a little country town and they were too busy to give her the care she needed.’

‘They were lucky you stepped up to the plate.’

‘I was happy to help,’ she said again. ‘Anyway, it was tit for tat. When I was little, my gran nursed me through the chickenpox and the measles and umpteen bouts of tonsillitis. Mum was always too busy helping Dad in the store.’

Unexpectedly, Jake frowned and he looked deeply pained as he rearranged the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table.

‘What’s the matter, Jake? Have I said something wrong?’

He let out a heavy sigh. ‘No. You’re just confirming my worst fears.’

‘Really? How?’

Exhaling another deep sigh, he rested his chin on his hand, and suddenly he was telling her about an old stockman he knew, someone from his childhood called Roy, who was now in a nursing home here in Sydney. As Jake talked about how strong and tough this stockman used to be and how shockingly weak and shut-in he was now, Mattie could see how deeply he cared for the old man.

‘My parents and I have let him down,’ he said quietly. ‘We should be doing more for him.’

On impulse, Mattie reached out and touched the back of Jake’s hand. He stiffened as if she’d burned him.

‘It sounds as if you’ve visited Roy whenever you can,’ she said softly. ‘There’s not much else you can do if you’re working in Mongolia, but I’m sure your visits mean a lot.’

His gaze met hers and his dark eyes were shimmering and vulnerable and something shifted inside her, almost as if a key had been turned in a lock. Oh, help. She’d been trying not to like Jake Devlin, but now she feared she was beginning to like him very much.

Too much. Was she falling in love?

Surely not. She mustn’t fall in love. Not again. Not ever. Certainly not now.

Gently, she removed her hand from his. ‘Did you take Roy with you to the movies today?’

‘No.’ Jake looked angry as he shook his head. ‘I didn’t even think of it. How selfish am I? Roy would have loved a movie. It was an action-adventure flick and they’re his favourite.’

‘There’s always tomorrow,’ Mattie suggested gently.

His brow cleared. ‘Yes, of course. It’s my last day, but that’s a good idea.’

‘Actually,’ Mattie said, warming to this subject, ‘if Roy’s an outdoor type, he might prefer to be out in the fresh air. You could take him on a ferry ride on the harbour. Do you think he’d be well enough for that?’

‘I reckon he might be. That’s a really good idea.’

The waitress brought Jake’s beer and Mattie couldn’t help watching the movements of his throat as he took a deep draught. Every inch of him seemed breathtakingly male and dark and sexy. She was beginning to think she’d never met such an attractive man.

Apart from her fiancé, the guys she’d dated had all lived in her home town and she’d known them since they’d first grown baby teeth. She’d gone to kindergarten and school with them. They’d belonged to the same pony club and Sunday school. There were no mysteries there.

Jake, on the other hand, was a man surrounded by mystery.

Pink rose in Mattie’s cheeks and Jake watched the telltale colour with mounting dismay.