Sydney Harbour Hospital: Tom's Redemption (13 page)

A woman in the café or walking past on the beach was wearing the same perfume as Hayley.

Damn it
. He’d managed not to think about her very often today, but it didn’t take much to bring her front and centre in his mind. He’d been battling errant thoughts of Hayley for five long days, which made no sense to him at all. In the past, although he’d enjoyed his encounters with women, he’d never thought about them afterwards
and he’d never had his thoughts interrupted by memories of them.

He heard a woman’s voice from somewhere off to his left. ‘Oh! You’ve dropped your teddy. Here you are.’

Tom’s head swung toward the voice, which sounded identical to Hayley’s.

You’re totally losing it. Let’s look at the facts. 1. Other women have been known to wear that perfume. 2. You’re nowhere near the hospital or where she lives so that rules out Hayley
. He reached out his fingers, feeling for the edge of the saucer in preparation for picking up the small coffee cup.

Noise buzzed behind him—murmured thanks, the squeak of wheels, possibly from a stroller, and then soft footsteps. Jerky almost. The exact same stop-start gait he’d heard the night he’d met Hayley on the way to the car park.

Stop it
.

He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the short strands as if that slight pain would shake the ridiculous thoughts from his head.

A cloud of coconut and floral scent floated over him and he gripped the edge of the table. He had no clue who was standing near him, and yet everything in him screamed it was Hayley. A bitter surge of vitriol at his useless eyes duelled with the surge of heat that rolled through him, taunting him with the memory of what he’d been doing the last time he’d breathed in that combination of fragrances.

‘Tom? What on earth are you doing here?’

Hayley
. She sounded stunned, indignant and happy all at the same time. He understood the emotions exactly. He somehow got this throat to work. ‘Having breakfast for lunch.’

She laughed. ‘That’s why I’m here. I finished work and all I could think about was the big breakfast. May I join you?’

Say no now to avoid problems later
. ‘Sure.’

‘Great.’

He started to move so he could stand up for her, but she said, ‘There’s a stroller wedged in behind you. Have you eaten?’

He welcomed her matter-of-fact tone of voice and how she’d just slipped in the information quietly without making a fuss and then continued with her conversation. ‘I had the eggs Benedict.’

‘Ohh, fancy. I’m going for straight grease today with an extra side of hash browns. It’s crazy but sometimes I dream about these breakfasts and when I do I think it’s my body telling me that I need some salt and fat.’

He remembered her delectable curves and how he’d appreciated them, unlike the feel of a woman who fought with food. He grinned. ‘Sounds reasonable to me.’

She quickly gave her order to the waitress and sighed.

‘Problem?’

‘No, not at all.’ She sounded relaxed and happy. ‘It was a catching-my-breath sigh.’

He knew what she meant. ‘I used to do that here.’

‘Used to? Simple deduction tells me you’re still doing it.’

He shook his head. ‘Today’s the first time I’ve been here in over two years.’ He expected his words to be greeted with an embarrassed silence due to the indirect reference to his accident. Instead, he heard the creak of her chair as she moved in it.

‘I love coming to this café and here’s a perfect example why. There’s an elderly couple walking hand in hand along the pier. They’re deep in conversation and wearing
hiking boots so I guess they’re going to walk to the next cove along the cliff-top path. To your left, on the beach, there’s a little boy about three and he’s trying to wrestle a bright red ball from his toddler sister.’

He heard a high-pitched squeal. ‘I gather the sister doesn’t want to give up the ball.’

Hayley laughed and the rich, smoky sound carried both the warmth and softness of velvet. ‘No, she’s holding on tight and he’s just sat on her. Their mother, who’s on her mobile phone, hasn’t paused her conversation for a second. She’s just picked him up by the back of his T-shirt and he’s flailing his arms and legs about.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Just behind you is a boy who looks about eighteen. He’s got heavily tattooed arms, piercings on his face, but he’s cuddling a puppy as if it’s the most precious thing in the world.’

Tom instantly remembered the dog he’d adopted as a child and how devastated he’d been when it had died. His father had taken off when he’d been a baby and had never made contact again. Although his mother had loved him, she’d loved the contents of a bottle more. The dog, however, had loved him unconditionally and he could understand why the tough-looking young man was showing the puppy affection. The animal was probably the only thing in his life that gave him positive vibes. ‘What sort of dog is it?’

The screeching scrape of the chair legs against concrete sounded and then he heard Hayley saying, ‘Excuse me. Could we have a look at your puppy, please?’

He tensed. ‘Hell, Hayley I didn’t mean you to—’

But Hayley ignored him and starting talking to someone he assumed was the tattooed young man.

‘Oh, he’s just gorgeous,’ she cooed. ‘He’s going to be a huge dog if he grows into those feet. This is my friend,
Tom. He’s blind but he wanted to know what sort of dog it is.’

‘Do you wanna hold him, mate?’

Tom suddenly felt the wriggling, warm softness of a puppy being shoved into his lap and he quickly brought his hands up to support and contain the dog. Its heart pounded hard and fast against his hand, and a wet tongue licked his thumb. He smiled as he traced the outline of its big, silky ears.

The waitress’s brisk steps hurried to their table and with a clanking slam a plate hit the tabletop. ‘Here’s your big breakfast and no dogs are allowed in the café.’

‘Technically, we’re outside and this young man is on the beach so he’s not in the café,’ Hayley replied mildly. ‘And Tom’s blind so by law you have to allow his dog.’

Tom stifled a laugh at the ludicrous argument and heard the waitress’s sharp intake of breath.

‘That’s not a seeing-eye dog.’

‘Not yet.’ Hayley had that tone in her voice that dared the waitress to prove her wrong. ‘A great deal of training happens before a dog is old enough to wear the harness and it all starts when they’re this young. It’s important that they’re out and about amongst people.’

Somehow Tom managed to keep a straight face and nod as well, adding gravitas to what was an outright lie. ‘We have to see if we get along.’

The puppy laid its head against his forearm as he stroked the length of its back.

‘Just keep it contained, okay?’ The waitress walked away, her shoes slapping the ground crossly.

‘Can I have me dog back now?’ the young man asked.

‘Sure.’ Tom held the puppy out toward the voice. ‘Thanks. I enjoyed the cuddle.’

‘No worries. See ya.’

‘Bye,’ Hayley said with a smile in her voice.

Tom leaned forward, propelled toward her by a lightness of being he hadn’t experienced in years—if ever. ‘So tell me. What sort of a mutt were you trying to pass off as a potential seeing-eye dog?’

Her laugh matched his. ‘What sort of dog did you feel?’

He thought about the picture he’d painted in his mind. ‘Drop ears, wide head, long snout, strong legs, big paws, short coat and a healthy wet nose.’

‘Exactly.’ He heard the scratch of cutlery on china and a soft sigh of delight as she tasted her food. ‘You wanted to know what sort of dog it was and now you’ve seen it.’

A spark of frustration flared. ‘I have no clue of its colour.’

‘A gorgeous golden blond.’

Her perfume eddied around him and he realised she’d leaned forward. He fought against the distraction and thought about the dog and its short coat and immediately ruled out a golden retriever. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. That dog was actually a golden Labrador?’

‘I know you want to cast me as a con artist and, granted, I was pushing the envelope, but technically that dog could have been a trainee guide dog. Besides, you looked happy and we weren’t upsetting any customers. I would have said the same thing if it had been a Jack Russell.’

He fought the traitorous cosy feeling of being cared for by using the stark reality of abandonment as the weapon. Experience had taught him not to let himself be tricked by caring because it always let him down. A long sigh shuddered out of him. ‘Hayley.’

She responded with an exaggerated sigh. ‘Tom.’

It made him want to smile, but it was time to be frank. Time to lay his cards on the table and kill any illusions she might have about the two of them. ‘About the other
day. You do know it wasn’t the start of anything between us. I’ve never done relationships and I don’t intend to start now. It was what it was. Great sex.’ He heard her put her cutlery down and he braced himself for her reply. He’d had this conversation before.

‘I’m glad we agree. It
was
great sex. Nothing more and nothing less so now you can stop worrying that I’ve booked the church and put a deposit on a dress.’

He wished he could see her face—see if her expression matched her voice, which sounded very normal and without the strain of a lie. But he wasn’t totally convinced. Before he’d lost his sight he’d never met a woman who hadn’t held a hint of hope in her eyes that a relationship would grow from a casual fling.

Her hand settled over his, her fingers stroking the back of his hand. ‘I can see you don’t believe me, but you should. I like you, Tom, but I’ve got exams looming and my whole life at the moment is work and study. I hardly have any time to sleep, my parents have taken to visiting me in the cafeteria at The Harbour because I can never manage to get home to see them, so if I can’t even manage that, I know I don’t have the time or the energy to give to a relationship. But …’

The ‘but’ worried him. However, her touch had his pulse racing and it took every bit of willpower he had not to link his fingers with hers. ‘But what?’

She doodled lazy circles around each knuckle. ‘You remember what it was like just before you qualified?’

Through the growing fog of desire that was building inside him, he located a memory. ‘Sheer hell.’

‘Exactly. Stress city, and it’s well documented that sex releases tension and I have a very stressful time coming up.’

Was he hearing right? He didn’t dare to believe it so
he asked, ‘Are you saying you want to have sex without the relationship part?’

Her other hand linked fingers with his. ‘Ever heard of friends with benefits?’

He had. ‘I didn’t think it really existed.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, it does. It works well for busy people. Unlike a relationship, we’re not at each other’s beck and call, but when it suits us both we get together. A sort of win-win situation.’

She’s right about the final year of surgery. There’s no time for anything other than work
.

There’ll be a catch. Women don’t suggest this sort of thing. Guys do
.

But the memory of being buried deep in Hayley was so strong and the thought of being there again was so tempting that it stampeded over the faint echoes of his concerns.

‘When do we start?’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I
SHOULD
go.’ Hayley sat forward, having spent the last twenty minutes leaning back on Tom’s chest as he sat propped up against a tree.

Two weeks had passed since she’d run into Tom at Café Luna. Seeing him sitting alone in the café had brought up a mix of contrary emotions, starting with shocked surprise, moving into relief and then finishing up with something that made her feel unexpectedly bereft at the thought of not seeing him again. That had propelled her to suggest being ‘friends with benefits’. It was the perfect solution. Obvious even.

She knew what she was getting into and it wasn’t like she’d never done it before. It suited her and if the past fortnight was anything to go by, it was the best decision she’d made in a long time. Not that they’d seen a lot of each other, but when they could coordinate their schedules, the sex had been as wondrous as their first time. Still, as amazing as the sex always was, it was times like the hour they’d just spent having a picnic in the park close to her cottage that she was really starting to treasure. They could talk for hours about all sorts of things and equally she could sit in companionable silence with him and not feel the need to talk. She hadn’t experienced anything close to that sort of ease with someone since Amy.

Tom’s arm, which had been resting casually across her chest, tightened against her and he nuzzled her neck. ‘Come back to my place.’

She turned and pressed her lips to his, loving that she could do that whenever they were alone. ‘Later. First I have to do another three hours of study and then you’re my treat for working hard. Will you be home about seven?’

‘Tonight, yes.’ He stroked her hair. ‘It seems I’m surrounded by people who are studying.’

‘How’s Jared going?’ She’d enjoyed helping the young man with the chemistry and had appreciated his rough but honest manner.

‘He’s working hard.’

It was the perfect segue to ask the question she’d long pondered. ‘How did Jared go from being your patient to your friend?’

The edges of Tom’s mouth tightened a fraction. ‘I don’t really know, but it was probably because he wouldn’t go away and now I’m stuck with him.’

But although he might think he sounded resigned and put upon, she saw his affection for the young man shining clearly on his face. ‘What’s the real story?’

The doctor moved to front and centre. ‘I clipped an aneurysm in his brain two months before I left for Perth. He came through Outpatients as a public patient and he was a bright kid, but, like a lot of kids from the western suburbs, life wasn’t easy and he had a massive chip on his shoulder. I don’t think I got more than grunts out of him before the operation.’

She smiled. ‘And let me guess, you chatted to him just like you talked to Gretel.’

Two deep lines carved into a V at the bridge of his nose. ‘I talked to him like I talk to all my patients.’