A Father for Her Baby. Sue MacKayЧитать онлайн книгу.
them a tow truck pulled up, quickly followed by another heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle. Then the fire truck laden with men equipped with cutting gear and rescue equipment arrived. ‘I love it when the cavalry turns up.’
Mike grinned. ‘Guess it does feel like that. You want to wait in the warmth of the ambulance? Thaw out a bit before we send one of these two up to you?’
For once she didn’t mind being set aside so others could get on with the job. She wasn’t in a position to take the weight of either Lucy or Sam as they were freed and lifted onto stretchers. The strain might affect her baby in some way and that was not going to happen. ‘On my way.’ Though it wouldn’t be as easy going up the bank as it had been coming down.
Mike read her mind. ‘There’s a rope to haul yourself back up to the top, as you’re more of a small whale than a goat these days.’
She swiped at his arm before taking the end of rope he held out to her. ‘Thanks, Doc.’
‘Is that Sam’s truck? Is he hurt badly? Anyone with him?’ The questions were fired at her before she’d even got her feet back on the road.
Doing her slip-slide ballet manoeuvre and with a lot of men reaching for her, she managed to stand upright and steady. ‘Lucy’s unconscious and Sam’s fading in and out.’ Sasha glanced around at the mostly familiar faces, relief that they were here warming her chilled blood.
Then she froze. Like the air in her lungs had turned to ice crystals. The heat left her veins. Her eyes felt as though they were popping out of their sockets. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Her head spun, making her dizzy. Her mouth tasted odd as her tongue did a lap. Can’t be him. Her numb fingers hurt as she gripped someone’s arm to stay upright. Not now. Not here.
But, of course, she wasn’t imaging anything. That would’ve meant something going in her favour for a change. Grady O’Neil was for real. Eleven years older and more world-weary but definitely Grady. No mistaking that angular jaw, those full lips that were nearly always smiling—except not right at this moment—and... Her shoulders rose, dropped back in place. He hadn’t been smiling the last time she’d seen him either. When he’d told her he didn’t love her any more he’d had the decency to keep at bay that wicked smile that made her knees melt. The first man to hurt her. But he didn’t have that on his own any more. There’d been others. She so didn’t do well with picking men.
The urge to run overwhelmed her. Her left foot came off the ground as she began turning in the direction of her vehicle. Sliding on the ice and falling down hard on your butt would be such a good look. And could harm Flipper. Deal with this. Now. Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out. ‘Grady.’ She dipped her head. ‘It’s been a while.’
A while? How’s that for a joke? Why wasn’t he laughing? A while. Far too long. Huh? No. She meant not nearly long enough. Didn’t she? Oh, yeah, definitely not long enough. Yet here he stood, a few feet from her, as big and strong and virile as ever. And that was with layers of thick warm clothes covering that body she apparently still remembered too well.
You shouldn’t be remembering a thing about that amazing year. You’re long over him and the hurt he caused. True? Absolutely.
She fought the need to revisit Grady and everything he’d meant to her, instead aimed for calm and friendly, as though his unexpected appearance didn’t matter at all. ‘What are you doing here?’ Big fail. Her voice rose as though a hand gripped her throat. Memories from those wonderful carefree days she’d stashed away in a mental box some place in the back of her head were sneaking out and waving like flags in a breeze, threatening to swamp her.
Swallowing hard, she focused on now, not the past. Why had Grady turned up? Golden Bay was her territory. Not his. He’d only come for summer holidays and that had been years ago. He’d be visiting. But who? Not her, for sure. Her tummy sucked in on itself, setting Flipper off on a lap of her swimming pool, nudging Sasha every few seconds, underlining how unimportant Grady was in the scheme of things.
Sasha dug deeper than she’d ever done before for every bit of willpower she could muster to hold off rubbing her extended belly. She would not draw those all-seeing blue eyes to her pregnant state. That was hers alone to cope with. She certainly didn’t need Grady asking about her baby.
His smile seemed genuine, though wary. Which it damn well ought to be. ‘Hi, Sash. This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you while I was here.’
Sash. That certainly set free a load of hot memories. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched. Grady still drawled her name out like he was tasting it, enjoying it.
He couldn’t be. He’d lost any right to those sensations the day he’d told her he didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet he was checking her out. Her pulse sped up as that steady gaze trawled over her, starting with her face and tracking slowly down her chin, her throat, over the swell of her breasts under the thickness of her jacket, on down to Flipper. As his gaze dropped further the breath she’d been hanging onto trickled over her lips. He hadn’t noticed the six-month bulge. Guess the thick jersey and heavy jacket she wore made her look larger than normal anyway.
Now his gaze had reached her legs—forever legs, he used to call them. Another memory leaped out of the box. Grady’s strong hands gently rubbing sunscreen from her toes to the tops of her thighs. Slam. The lid shut firmly.
Then Grady stepped right up to her and enveloped her in those strong arms she would not remember. Her head bumped against the chest she’d never found the likeness of again. And out of nowhere came the need to lay her cheek against him and tuck her hands around his waist. Even to tug that shirt free and slide her hands over his skin.
No, Sasha, you can’t. Are you that stupid you’ve forgotten his parting words? That memory never went into the box. That one you kept out in the open as a warning never to make the same mistake.
Except she had got it wrong again. Had learned nothing in the years since Grady. She jerked backwards. Too quickly for him to let go of her, so that her baby bump shoved forward, right into his solar plexus.
His head snapped up, those startled eyes registering shock. He pulled away from her fast, as though he’d walked into an electric fence. In the shadows and flashing lights from the emergency vehicles she saw a multitude of questions spinning her way. He pushed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, forced his chest out and splayed his legs slightly. Such a Grady stance. The don’t-mess-with-me posture even while his face showed how much he wanted to ask her about that bump.
Tough. Her baby had nothing to do with him. He’d want to know who the father was, no doubt wondering if it was someone he knew from way back when they had been part of a whole crowd of teens at the beach. He could guess all night long, he’d never get it right.
He looked away, looked back at her. Tugged one hand free and rammed his fingers through his thick hair. Stumped.
She blinked as her throat clamped shut on the delayed shock charging up her body, opening that box of memories again, wider than ever. I remember you very well, Grady O’Neil. Too well. I remember—too many things I’d prefer not to. The air trickled out of her lungs. Those memories were capable of melting all the black ice on the Takaka Hill road.
Why had she never considered this moment might happen? Because Takaka had been their playground only when they’d been teenagers knocking around together. Knocking around? That was one way of describing what had gone on between them. They’d been inseparable. Totally in love with the intensity of teenagers overdosed on hormones. She’d stupidly thought they’d be together for ever.
So wrong about Grady. So wrong about the greaseball she’d walked away from four months ago. She really needed a ‘how to’ book on establishing perfectly balanced relationships with the opposite sex.
She closed her eyes. Opened them. Nothing had changed. Grady still stood in front of her, questions blinking out, begging for answers. No way, sunshine. Not telling you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she croaked, ‘I didn’t realise you knew Mike.’
‘I