Capturing the Single Dad’s Heart (8 page)

‘Very sure,' she said. ‘I don't have anything planned for this evening.'

‘Thanks. I owe you one,' he said.

As he'd half feared, there were complications in Theatre, but Nate knew that Caitlin would be safe and happy with Erin. When he finally scrubbed out and had made sure his patient was settled, he called Erin's mobile phone to find out exactly where they were and went down to meet them.

‘Good to meet you, Nate,' Ed said, shaking his hand. ‘Your daughter here's got a real affinity with plants. She's made some really good suggestions about the design.'

‘That's good,' Nate said with a smile. How did he deal with this? Singing Caitlin's praises would probably embarrass her and make her back away; but at the same time he didn't want her to feel that he was just dismissing her.

Erin came to his rescue. ‘We were wondering if Caitlin could join the volunteer team, Nate. Provided it doesn't interfere with her homework or what have you.'

‘And it'd look great on her CV if she decides on a career in horticulture,' Ed added. ‘Being involved in a hospital sensory garden is a really big thing.'

Caitlin's eyes were wide with longing. ‘Can I?' she asked.

Damping down the wish that she'd call him ‘Dad', Nate nodded. ‘Sure. Provided you stay on top of your homework.'

‘I will,' she promised. And then, to his shock, she hugged him. ‘Thanks.'

The combination of that hug and the look of pure approval on Erin's face completely floored him. Nate was relieved that Ed picked up the slack by chatting away about what they could do. He didn't pay much attention to what the garden designer was saying, because all his focus was on Caitlin and Erin: his daughter, and a woman who was growing more important to him by the day.

Was he simply being selfish, wanting to have everything? Or was there a possibility that Erin might see him as more than just a colleague whose life needed fixing? Plus he had no idea how she felt. Did she feel the same attraction towards him? Or did she think that the situation was way too complicated for her to want to take their relationship any further than friendship?

* * *

At the weekend, it was raining, so Nate, Erin and Caitlin headed out to the trampoline place. As Nate had half suspected they would, Erin and Caitlin ganged up on him in dodgeball and took great delight in throwing the ball at him and bouncing it to each other for another shot at him.

But then Erin tripped and he caught her.

For a moment, he held her close. He could feel the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin, and she smelled of vanilla and chocolate. Edible.

His mouth went dry as he imagined kissing her.

And when she looked up at him, he could see that her pupils were huge.

So did she feel this same pull towards him? Could anything come of this?

He was just about to dip his head and brush his mouth over hers when he remembered where they were—and that his daughter was standing right next to them. Much as he wanted to kiss Erin, he knew it really wasn't a good idea to do it right here and now. So he set her back on her feet with a grin. ‘Given how many times you've hit me with that ball in the last ten minutes, you're very lucky I didn't just let you fall flat on your face, Dr Leyton.'

‘Yeah, yeah,' she said, and bounced a ball against his chest with a cheeky grin.

‘So much for gratitude,' he grumbled.

Erin threw the ball to Caitlin. ‘Actually, I think we're about done now,' she said. ‘And, as trampolining burns about a thousand calories an hour, I reckon we've burned enough to have afternoon tea.'

‘Bring on the cake,' Nate said. ‘And scones. I have a ton of calories to replenish.'

She smiled at him, and his heart felt as if it had done a somersault. Ridiculous. He really needed to keep himself under control. But when they were settled in the café with a platter of sandwiches and a tiered stand full of scones and cakes, he found himself staring at her mouth.

Oh, help.

‘Dad?'

Then he became aware that Caitlin was talking to him. ‘Sorry. Miles away.' But his daughter was bright and he didn't want her to guess why he was wool-gathering. Thinking swiftly on his feet, he said, ‘I was wondering how many of these sandwiches I can eat before you notice that I've scoffed your share.'

‘I was saying, Erin's tea is actually nice. She just let me try it.'

‘It's passion fruit tea,' Erin added. ‘My favourite, after pomegranate.'

It was bright orange and it smelled gorgeous.

‘Want to try some?' she asked.

‘I think I'll stick to my good old-fashioned breakfast tea,' he said. Because the idea of drinking from a cup where her lips had just touched sent a shiver of pure desire running through him, and he needed to stop this right now.

But it got worse when they started some teasing bickering about the proper way to eat scones, and whether the cream or the jam should go on first. Because then Nate and Erin reached for a scone at the same time and their fingers brushed against each other. Nate's skin tingled where they'd touched, and his whole body felt incredibly aware of hers. Maybe he should've sat next to her instead of opposite her—because then he wouldn't have to look at her and wonder what it would be like to touch his mouth to hers. Then again, sitting next to her would've been just as bad, because then his foot might've ended up brushing against hers...

He needed a cold shower.

But for now, concentrating on his cup of tea would have to do.

* * *

The following Tuesday morning, Erin let herself into her brother's flat. ‘Hey, Mikey.'

He looked up from his computer. ‘Hey, it's my favourite sister.'

‘Your only sister,' she corrected.

‘But you're still my favourite.' He smiled at her. ‘Would that be a box of freshly baked cookies I spy in your hand?'

‘I made most of them for the bake sale at work later today, but I earmarked these ones for you,' she said. ‘Though you have to save at least one for Louisa. And I've already texted her to say I made cookies, so she'll know if you scoff the lot.'

‘True. I'll make us some tea to go with them.' He saved his file, wheeled himself into the kitchen and made tea.

Yet again Erin noticed how matter-of-fact Mikey was about his situation. He didn't let his disability get in the way. Then again, she supposed he'd had fourteen years to get used to being in a wheelchair.

‘How's the sensory garden doing?' Mikey asked.

‘Really well. The structure's almost there, and we're going to start planting things, next week.'

‘Has the new guy at work stopped giving you a hard time about it?'

Erin squirmed. Why had she opened her mouth to her brother about that in the first place? ‘Uh-huh.'

‘Spill,' he said.

She tried for innocence. ‘Spill what?'

‘I've known you since you were two hours old,' he reminded her, ‘so you can't flannel me. What's the deal with this guy?'

‘There's no deal.' That bit was true. ‘Nate and I are friends.'

‘As in “just good”?' Mikey asked wryly.

Erin nodded. ‘We can't be any more than that.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because his ex-wife has just sent their thirteen-year-old daughter to live with him.'

Mikey winced in sympathy. ‘Ah. I take it you're seeing yourself, from the time when Mum kicked you out?'

‘Yes and no. Caitlin's a nice kid, actually. Her mum's new husband isn't quite as bad as Creepy Leonard was. It seems that he just doesn't want the bother of having a teenager around or having to share her mother's attention.'

‘And she gets on OK with her dad?'

‘It's getting better. We found some common ground between them.' Erin laughed. ‘Ironically, it was the sensory garden. So I guess that's why he's had to come round to my way of thinking on the subject.'

Mikey wheeled his chair over to her and gave her a hug. ‘Erin, you don't have to rescue everyone, you know.'

‘I'm not trying to rescue anyone,' she fibbed.

‘You can't change the past,' he said, ‘but you've more than learned from it. I know Mum blames you for what happened, but I don't, and as the one who's actually in the wheelchair then I outrank her in the validity of my opinion.'

‘And the political journalist goes back into using long words and a fancy sentence structure,' she teased, wanting him to change the subject.

‘Erin.' He took her hand. ‘When are you going to forgive yourself, sweetheart?'

She couldn't answer that. Mainly because she was pretty sure the answer was ‘never'.

‘Look at you. Think how many lives you've made a real difference to at work,' Mikey pointed out. ‘If I hadn't had the accident, you might not have become a doctor, let alone a neurologist. The way you were going when you were fifteen, you might have ended up drifting from dead-end job to dead-end job, never settling to anything for long.'

She knew he was right, but she still thought that the price had been too high. And the fact that he'd been the one to pay it was unacceptable.

‘And,' he added gently, ‘you might have been the mother of a thirteen-year-old yourself right now—which is another reason why I think you're stepping in to help. This girl is the child you could've had.'

‘Mikey, I'm not trying to replace the baby. I came to terms with the miscarriage a long time ago. And you and I both know I was too young anyway to be a mum, back then. I wouldn't have given my daughter a good life.'

Her little girl.

Would her daughter have looked like her? Would she have had the same unruly fair hair, the same dusting of freckles across her nose? Would they have clashed as badly as Erin and her own mother did, or would they have been friends as well as mother and daughter?

When she'd first realised she was pregnant, Erin had been horrified, unable to believe it was true. She'd gone into denial about it and pretended it wasn't happening until her best friend had found her crying in the toilets and taken her home to talk to her mother—and Rachel had really helped her come to terms with it and see that the baby was maybe a gift, a chance to have the parent-child relationship she didn't have with her own parents. Losing that had devastated Erin; once she'd accepted the idea of being pregnant, she'd planned to put her child first, to give her child a feeling of importance and security that she'd never had herself.

It had taken a lot of hard work for her to come to terms with the miscarriage and realise that maybe it was her own second chance, and she could turn her life around.

‘You don't know for sure that it would've gone wrong,' Mikey said, ‘and things are never that clear-cut. Yes, having the miscarriage meant that you could go on to concentrate on your studies instead of having to drop out; but at the same time you missed out on having a child. I think you're still missing out, because you don't let anyone close enough to date you for more than a couple of months, and settling down really doesn't seem on the cards for you.'

She suppressed the ache. ‘Maybe. But be honest about it, Mikey. Relationships don't work for me.'

‘Because you don't give them a chance.'

She scoffed. ‘You and Rachel are the only people who've ever been there for me. And look what I did to you.'

‘I was the one driving,' he reminded her, ‘and it was an accident. Have you told this Nate guy what happened?'

She shook her head. ‘He knows you had an accident, but he doesn't know it was my fault.' She dragged in a breath. ‘And he doesn't know about the baby.' She never talked about the baby to anyone nowadays—except when her brother made her talk about it.

‘The accident wasn't your fault,' Mikey said again, ‘but maybe you should tell him what happened, and he can make you see that.'

‘Or he might run a mile in the opposite direction because he'll see me as a bad influence on Caitlin,' she countered.

‘Or,' Mikey said, ‘more likely he'll see what a brave, strong woman you are, how you've turned your life around and what a great role model you are for his daughter.'

Erin flapped a dismissive hand. ‘That stuff is all on a need-to-know basis, and right now Nate doesn't need to know.'

‘So you're scared of his reaction?' he asked perceptively.

Petrified. ‘No,' she fibbed.

‘So he's
that
important. Interesting. And he's the first man you've actually talked to me about in a long time.' Mikey finished making the tea and handed her a mug. ‘Open up to him, Erin. If he deserves you, then he'll understand. And if he doesn't understand, then he's not good enough for you anyway.'

She gave him an awkward hug. ‘I love you, Mikey.'

‘I love you, too, Erin—but you need to start really living your life.'

‘I
am
living my life,' she protested.

He scoffed. ‘No, you're not, because you won't let anyone close—partly because of what that bastard Andrew did to you.'

‘I had counselling,' she reminded him. ‘I came to terms with it. Not all men are rapists. I've dated since then. I've had sex since then.'

But trying to embarrass her brother into shutting up didn't work. ‘You still don't let anyone close,' he pointed out.

She sighed. ‘Mikey, love doesn't last. So what's the point in looking for it?'

‘Love
does
last,' he said. ‘And I can prove it.'

‘How?

‘Grab your diary, because Louisa and I are taking you out to dinner.'

‘Dinner? That sounds good. What's the occasion?'

‘Double celebration. I got promoted to editor at the magazine,' he said.

‘That's fabulous news! Then I'm buying the champagne at dinner—no arguments,' she said.