The Midwife's Son

Putting all the innocence she could muster into her gaze, she tapped her sternum. ‘Me? No way.’ Then, unable to hold that look, she grinned again. ‘If you don’t tell me I’ll have to torture you.’

His mouth curved upwards as his tongue slicked over his bottom lip. ‘Interesting.’

Idiot. She’d walked into that one. Now he’d make some smutty comment and ruin the easy camaraderie between them. ‘Um, forget I said that.’

‘Forgotten.’ Did he add, ‘Unfortunately,’ under his breath?

She so wasn’t into leather and handcuffs, or whips and ice. At least she hadn’t been. Her mouth twitched. Maybe she should head home now, before the champagne made her say more things she shouldn’t.

Where were Sasha and Grady? Right in the centre of the floor, still dancing, wrapped around each other as though they were the only people there. A sudden, deep envy gripped her, chilled her despite the summer heat.

She wanted what they had. Wanted a man who loved her more than anything, anyone else. Who’d put her first. A man to curl up against at night, to laugh and cry with. A man like— Her eyes swivelled in her head, away from the dance floor right to the man beside her. A man like Jackson? No. For starters, he was her best friend’s brother. Then there was the fact he was only home for a few months. Add his sophistication and Jackson was so not right for her.

Hold that thought. Focus on it. Believe it. Remember how she’d thought Nicholas’s father would give her all those things, only to be shown just how wrong she’d been. Instead, she’d found a man incapable of commitment, even to his wife back in the States. A wife she hadn’t had a clue about.

Unfortunately for her, right now, all the reasons for not getting involved with Jackson seemed to have no substance at all.

CHAPTER TWO

JACKSON WATCHED JESSICA. Her brown eyes lightened to fudge and darkened to burnt coffee depending on her emotion, flicking back and forth so fast sometimes she must give herself a headache. Talk about an enigma. One moment all shy and unsure of herself, the next flipping a sassy comment at him like she wanted him. Which was the real Jess Baxter?

Suddenly the months looming ahead didn’t seem so long and depressing. Instead, they were beginning to look interesting. Could he spend some time with Jessica and get to know her? Have some light-hearted fun for a while and find the real woman behind that sharp mind and sad face? He enjoyed puzzles, but right now he didn’t even know where to begin solving this one. They were hitting it off fine. There might be some fun to be had here.

But— Yeah, there was always a but. He didn’t want involvement. Especially not with a woman who’d require him to stay on at the end of those months, to become a permanent resident in the one place that he’d decided before he’d turned fifteen wasn’t right for him. Too small, too parochial. Too close and personal. Nasty, even. He’d never forget the gut-squeezing, debilitating hurt and anger when Miriam Blackburn had accused him of getting her pregnant. He’d only ever kissed her once. No wonder big cities held more attraction. Easy to lose himself, to avoid the piranhas.

From the little Sasha had told him, he understood that Jessica had come home permanently. That she’d begun mending bridges with the people she wrongly believed she’d hurt years ago. Apparently she wanted her son to grow up here, where he’d be safe and looked out for. There was no arguing with that sentiment.

He definitely wasn’t looking for commitment in any way, shape or form. Commitment might drag him back to the place he’d spent so long avoiding. He wasn’t outright avoiding women. But Jessica wasn’t like his usual type of woman. Those were sophisticated and well aware of how to have a good time without hanging around the next day. Women who didn’t get under his skin or tug at his heartstrings.

Jessica would want more of him than an exciting time. She’d want the whole package. Settle down, have more babies, find a house and car suitable for those children. And what was so awful about that? No idea, except it was the complete opposite from what he wanted.

Back up. He mustn’t forget why he’d decided to stay on after his sister’s wedding. He needed to spend time with his family, to help Mum and Dad as they came to terms with the multiple sclerosis that had hit Mum like a sledgehammer. He’d also like to get to know his niece. Melanie was so cute and, at three months old, had wound him round her little finger. Already, memories of her smile, her cry, her sweet face were piling up in his head to take back with him to Hong Kong.

Then there was the small issue of needing to rest and recoup his energy, to find the drive to continue his work in Hong Kong and keep his promise to his dead colleague. That motivation had been slipping away over the last year, like fine grain through a sieve. The catastrophic events of last month had really put the lid on his enthusiasm for his work. But a promise was a promise. No going back on it.

Clink. ‘Drink up.’ Jessica was tapping her glass against his again.

Yeah, drink up and forget everything that had happened in the past month. Let it go for a few hours and have some uncomplicated fun. ‘Cheers,’ he replied, and drained his glass. Picking up the bottle, he asked, ‘More?’

He saw her hesitating between yes and no, her eyes doing that light then dark thing. He made up her mind for her. ‘Here, can’t let this go to waste.’ When he’d filled both glasses, he lifted them and handed over hers, taking care not to touch her fingers as they wound around the glass stem. That would be fire on ice. ‘To weddings and families and friends.’

She nodded, sipped, and ramped up his libido as she savoured the sparkling wine, her tongue licking slowly over her lips, searching for every last taste. So much for avoiding contact. She could heat him up without a touch. That mouth... He shook his head. He would not think about her champagne-flavoured lips on his skin. Or her long, slim body under his as he plunged into her. While he lost himself for a few bliss-filled moments. Hours, even.

She was talking, her words sounding as though she was underwater.

Focus, man. Listen to Jess. Ignore your lust-dazed brain. ‘What did you just say?’

‘Looks like the happy couple are on the move.’ Her eyes followed his sister and new brother-in-law as they did the rounds of their guests, hugging and kissing and chatting.

‘You and Sasha never used to be mates.’

Jess had been the girl with the rich parents who had bought her anything and everything she could ever have wanted. Yet she’d never seemed genuinely, completely happy, always looking for more. Definitely a party girl, always in the thick of anything going down in Takaka, but at the same time she’d seemed removed from everyone. Like a child looking out the lolly-shop window at the kids gazing in at the sweet treats.

Yet she’d had more than the rest of them put together, having spent most of her childhood apparently travelling to weird and wonderful places. Hadn’t she had love? Had that been her problem? It would go a long way to explaining why she’d always bought her pals anything they’d hankered after. Perhaps she had been buying affection and friendship. Talk about sad.

Right now a big smile lit up her face, lightened her eyes. ‘The day Sasha walked into the medical centre to start her job we just clicked. Guess that amongst our past friends we’re the odd ones out, having left and come back. We’ve tasted the world, know what life’s like on the other side of Takaka Hill, and returned. Though Sasha’s done a lot more than I have when it comes to our careers.’

‘You didn’t work overseas?’

‘Nope. I’d travelled a lot with my parents when I was a child. The idea of working in another country didn’t appeal. Auckland was enough for me.’

‘Are your parents still living here?’

Coffee-colour eyes. And her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip. ‘Not often.’

He recognised a stop sign when he saw one. ‘Here comes the happy couple.’ Jackson stood, placed a hand on Jessica’s elbow and pulled her up to tuck her in beside him. Her warm length felt good against his body. The side of her thigh rubbed against his, her elbow nudged his ribs. A perfume that reminded him of Mum’s citrus grove teased his nostrils. Her hair, all fancy curls with orange ribbons woven through, tickled his chin when he lowered his head.

I want her. Like, really want her. Not just a five-minute quickie behind the shed either.

Surprise ricocheted through him and he felt his muscles tighten. All his muscles. Especially below his belt. Why was he surprised? Hadn’t this need been growing all evening? Against him Jess jerked, looked up with a big question in those pull-you-in eyes.

Don’t move. Hold your breath and wish away your out-of-left-field reaction to her before she catches on. Because otherwise she’s going to empty what’s left in that champagne bottle over your head.

His stomach dropped in time with her chin as she glanced down, over his chest to his waist, and on down. His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his mouth. She’d have to be blind not to see his boner.

Her head lifted. Her gaze locked onto his. She clearly wasn’t blind. Those brown pools were filled with comprehension. Raising herself up on tiptoe, she leaned close and whispered, ‘Your place or mine?’

‘Yours.’ Definitely not his. He was currently staying at his parents’ house.

Her hand slipped into his and she tugged him off balance. ‘What are we waiting for?’

‘I have no idea.’ So now he was in the flirty corner of the Jessica puzzle. Fine by him. He’d look into the shy corner another day.

Sasha and Grady stepped in front of them. ‘Hey, you two. In a hurry to leave?’ Sasha asked, with an annoying twinkle in her eyes. ‘Without saying goodbye?’

Jackson removed his hand from Jessica’s and carefully hugged his sister. ‘You look beautiful, sis. No wonder Grady hasn’t moved more than two centimetres away from you all day.’

Then he slapped Grady on the back and stepped away to watch the two women hugging tightly. They’d got so close. Like they shared everything. A small knot of longing tightened in his gut. He wanted that, too. No, he wanted what his sister and Grady had. Wanted to be able to talk about what had happened last month, share his fear and apprehensions, even the promise that hung over him. He would like to know there was someone special to look forward to going home to every night, someone who wasn’t the housekeeper.

Jessica? Maybe, maybe not. Though so far tonight she’d been totally in tune with him, not pushing for answers to questions he refused to give, understanding when he wanted to talk and when he didn’t. Knowing how his body reacted to hers.

Which reminded him. Weren’t they going somewhere? In a damned hurry, too?

‘See you two tomorrow,’ he told Grady, and grabbed for Jess’s hand. He whispered, ‘We’re out of here.’

And received a big, knowing smile in return. ‘Sure are, Doctor.’

As they passed the bar he swiped a bottle of champagne and tucked it under his free arm. ‘Neither of us is driving tonight. Let’s hope one of those vans Dad organised for transporting inebriated guests home is available.’ Like right this minute. Hanging around waiting for a ride and being forced to listen while other guests talked and laughed in their ears would be a passionkiller for sure. Though the beach was a short walk through the flaxes if need be.