Dr. White's Baby Wish (6 page)

Standing on unsteady legs, she aimed for the kitchen, hoping she wouldn't find Cody in there. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her in her nightie, but searching for the robe that she rarely used somewhere at the back of her wardrobe would expend energy she didn't have. She just wanted the tablet and water and to climb back into bed.

The kitchen was empty, but the TV was on in the lounge with the sound muted. Harper couldn't resist. She peeked around the corner and gasped. That big body was sprawled over her couch with the neighbour's cat curled on top of the chest she'd enjoyed so much. Her heart flipped. Cute. Who'd have thought it of such a large man? A gentle rumble erupted. Cody was sound asleep, snoring softly.

On the floor sat a takeout pizza box with two pieces left. Was she hungry? Stepping closer she bent down to steal a piece but got a whiff of cold melted cheese and something else unpleasant. Her stomach immediately protested. Fair enough. She didn't usually eat during a migraine episode.

Straightening up, she studied Cody. Stubble had appeared on his chin. What would that feel like against the palm of her hand?

She'd never know. Gripping her hands together in case she gave into the need crawling through her, she backed away.

Of course she didn't have eyes in the back of her head. Duh. Thump. The back of her leg banged into the coffee table and she sat down heavily on it. Of course the table shouldn't have been there in the first place. Who'd shifted it? Her eyes went straight to the man now waking up on her couch.

‘Hey, you're up.' Cody stretched, carefully lifted the cat off and placed it on what little piece of couch he wasn't taking up. Then he sat up and Harper felt dwarfed. Not that she was tiny.

‘I'm getting some water and going back to bed.'

‘Want anything to eat?' He glanced at the pizza box and looked back to her. ‘I can scramble an egg, if you like.'

Since shaking her head hurt worse than talking through her bruised throat, she said, ‘No, thanks.' But she didn't move. Sitting here was easier than getting up.

‘How are you feeling now?'

Spreading her fingers on her right hand she tipped her hand back and forth. ‘So, so.'

‘Going back to bed? Or staying up for a while? I'll change the TV channel. Cricket's over, anyway.'

‘No. The flickering light would aggravate my migraine. What's the time?'

A glance at his watch. ‘Ten-forty.' He stood up, stretching that long body no doubt to ease the kinks gained from lying on the couch. ‘I'll get your water and tablets.'

She didn't need him running round after her. At the same time she couldn't find the strength to stand up and go get what she needed. ‘Okay,' she muttered to his back as he strolled out to the kitchen, looking for all the world like he was used to being in her home.

Actually, he looked comfortable in here, like he belonged. He and the cat. Glancing sideways, she knew immediately how Puss had got inside. Cool air flowed in through the open glass doors and an empty beer bottle stood on the concrete by the barbecue table. He'd made himself at home, and Harper wasn't sure how she felt about that.

‘Here you go.' A large hand with a glass and pill bottle appeared in front of her. ‘Get those into you.' He sat down again. ‘Some guy phoned about tennis tomorrow. Something about playing an inter-club match.'

She shook her head. ‘You must've got it wrong. I can barely hit the ball over the net yet.'

‘You're learning to play?'

‘Uh-huh. I'm trying to learn to play. Who'd have thought it would be so hard to bang a ball across a net?' She'd joined the local club in spring and wouldn't be renewing her membership at the end of the season. In fact, she doubted she'd even go to club day again. ‘What did you tell him?'

‘It wasn't my place to say anything other than you'd phone tomorrow, though I sort of indicated you might be indisposed.'

‘Define “sort of”.' He'd surprised her. Most people wouldn't think twice about saying she was in bed with a migraine, or worse, describe the attack in the ED that morning.

‘Said you had rehearsals for the Christmas ballet in town. He was a little surprised— apparently you're not very nimble on your feet.' Those spring-green eyes were twinkling at her.

‘Look.' She lifted the edge of her nightie to reveal her scabby knees. ‘Tennis is a blood sport.'

‘You're meant to stay on your feet, not crawl after the ball.' His chuckle was deep and rumbly and did funny things to her insides, alternately tightening and softening her muscles. His gaze seemed fixed on her kneecaps, and the tip of his tongue appeared at the left corner of his mouth.

Tugging her nightie as far down her legs as possible, she studied him right back. Cody sitting on her couch was different to Cody attending an old man with a broken leg. She liked this version.

She liked the professional one too.

So what? She liked George at work and when he was hanging out with Jason. She enjoyed Karin in the department and when they sometimes had a meal in town on a Friday night.

But Cody? She liked...

‘I'm going back to bed.' Pushing up to her feet, she swayed back and forth until the stars behind her eyeballs blinked off.

A hand took her upper arm gently. ‘Take it easy.'

Pulling free of those fingers that felt like heat pads on her skin, she stumbled out of the room and down to her bedroom. Dropping onto the bed, she managed to swallow some pills and pour water down her throat—and down her chin and over the front of her nightie—before lying down and tugging the sheet over her head.

Playing ostrich in case her nurse decided to come and check on her.

‘You all right under there?' Yes, the nurse had followed her. Or was that Cody the man?

Flicking the sheet off her face, she grimaced at him. It didn't work. He still leant in the doorway watching her, nothing but genuine concern in his expression. For her? No one else here, so it had to be. ‘I had a dream.'

That gorgeous mouth flattened. ‘A dream or a nightmare?'

‘More like a movie where I had the lead role. You were in it, being as calm and useful as you were in the real deal, as was Strong—not being calm and helpful.' She licked her lips nervously. She didn't want to fall asleep and go through that again.

‘At least I didn't change roles.' Cody moved, sat on the end of the bed and gave her another soft smile. She was getting to like those. ‘Want a cup of tea? It might help you go to sleep. I'd tell you a story but I'm all out of them at the moment.'

Her mouth curved up in response to his smile. How could it not? Cody had a way about him that slipped through all her determination to remain aloof. A light, friendly way that did things to her insides, things that she'd thought long dead, things that weren't about friendship but about something more intense.
Not going to happen. It can't. He's bound to want children some day.
‘Tea would be lovely.'

Tea would be lovely,
her brain mimicked.

What was it about this man that had her melting with just a glance? Could it be that strength of character she'd seen in play today? He hadn't faltered from the moment the so-called detective had stepped into Resus.
Be real. You were ogling him and salivating over his bod before the department's unwelcome visitor turned up.

Whatever. Whichever way she looked at Cody, and not only at his physical attributes, he came up trumps. Fine.
Whatever
, she repeated under her breath. The fact remained she had failed at one marriage and the reasons behind that hadn't changed. She still couldn't have children, and her long hours at work hadn't lessened, not even when she'd changed jobs.

‘Tea for the lady.' Cody spoke softly from somewhere above her.

Her eyes sprang open. That was quick. ‘You move quietly.' But then she already knew how light he was on his feet. This morning's assailant hadn't seen him coming—at least, not as swiftly as he'd been taken down.

‘If you were asleep, I didn't want to wake you.'

He only got better and better. Which was bad, bad, bad.

Cody rubbed it in some more. ‘I'll listen out for you during the night in case you have another rerun of that movie.'

Her heart thudded against her ribs, while her stomach slowly melted into a pool of longing. Longing for a man who might really, really be as big-hearted and understanding of her as Cody appeared to be.
Stop these stupid dreams.
They were never for real and only came back to bite people on the backside. Hers especially.

‘Thanks,' she muttered and sipped her tea. What else could she say?

It was still Friday. There were two days before she went back to work and needed to have put Cody into the slot he was meant to be in. Ah, but hadn't she kind of intimated he should go with her to Jason's birthday bash? Not with her, exactly, but she hadn't told him to stay away.

All this went to show that when a mad man put a gun to her head she couldn't be responsible for anything she did or said for some time afterwards.

Harper sank down into her pillows, pushed Cody away out of her thoughts and finished her tea, thinking about her family, all her nieces and nephews, and how much she adored them. Despite her day, she felt safe. Nothing to do with Cody. Nothing at all.

The next time she woke, daylight was lightening the edges of her not-so-good blackout curtains. Lifting her head slowly, she was relieved to find the pressure band around her skull had gone and the drummers behind her eyeballs had packed their bags and left. Yeah. Progress. She still felt wiped out and would take any movement slowly. Swallowing hurt like stink but the swelling at the front of her neck felt as though it might have lessened.

Climbing out of bed, she shoved into a tee-shirt and tugged on a pair of long gym pants—not a fashion statement, but at least she could saunter out to her kitchen and face up to Nurse Cody without blushing about her night attire.

His eyes widened and those full lips twitched when he saw her. ‘You're not going to tennis, then?'

Okay, maybe a light blush. ‘Has he phoned again?' Her head might be a load better but thumping around a court swinging a racket would not be the best idea she could have. It wasn't even on a good day, when all her faculties were in top working order.

‘No. It's only a little after eight. Just thought that might be why you're up early. As in, early for someone who had the migraine from hell and had dealt with a mad man on her watch in the ED.'

‘Eight is late for any morning of the week, no matter what's been going on.' She grinned. She couldn't help it. Cody did that to her, made her want to smile, grin, shout from the rooftop. Shout what? Um... No idea, but it probably wouldn't make a lot of sense.

‘Want some breakfast? I popped out to the supermarket early on.'

The mouth-watering smell of bacon cooking tempted her. A lot. But she knew better than to give into temptation. ‘Dry toast and herbal tea will do for now.' Though that bacon did smell delicious.

‘No fatty food after a migraine?'

‘I avoid it for a while.' Did he have to look so comfortable at the stove too? Where didn't he fit in? Her ultra-modern kitchen had never looked so good, although a bit cramped for space. He could have been on the poster for the kitchen company; they wouldn't have been able to keep up with orders.

‘So, no tennis today. But you've got that birthday party and a game of cricket tomorrow.'

‘My cricket skills are no better than my tennis ones. I usually keep the score.' A sportswoman she was not. But there had to be something out there she could get into and enjoy, some hobby or game that would keep her busy and her brain engaged when she wasn't working, or looking after one or other of ‘the brat pack', as she called her brothers' broods. Glancing across at her dining table, she shrugged. The patchwork quilt she'd promised her mother hadn't progressed past the first few blocks.

‘Nor are my sewing attempts. Though I can sew two pieces of fabric together, I get bored too soon. I must have the attention span of a gnat because the thought of making something Mum would be proud to have on her bed does my head in.'

Cody's gaze followed the direction she was staring in. ‘I can't quite see you at a sewing machine. Seems too...'

‘Dull? Simple?' She gave him a quick smile. ‘Or complicated?'

He laughed, retrieved the pan off the hob, tipped the bacon onto a slice of toast, added pepper and slapped a second slice on top. ‘You can stitch up people. I trust you to stitch fabric. Just didn't seem like your kind of hobby for some reason.'

‘You might be right about that. Did you make it to the bedroom for a sleep last night, or stay on the couch?'

‘I gave one of the beds a go. I slept on top. I've tidied up so the kids won't know I've even been in there.'

‘To be honest they won't care who's been using their room.' Digging in the pantry, she found a packet of tea bags and a mug. ‘As long as there's ice-cream in the freezer and chocolate in the cupboard, they're happy.'

‘How many children have you got?'

The children question. It got to her every time even when she was used to it. Cody wasn't to know her history, so it was an innocuous question, or would be for most women.

‘I haven't got any.' For a brief while there she'd felt totally at ease with this man in her apartment and forgotten the usual reasons why she didn't spend time with men who intrigued her. Now, though disappointment flared, she should be grateful to Cody once again—this time for reminding her that she was destined to remain single. Men wanted families as much as she did.

‘Got that wrong, didn't I? Gemma mentioned kids yesterday, and that spare bedroom isn't decorated for any adults I've ever met.' He smiled softly.