The Single Dad's Marriage Wish (Bachelor Dads) (7 page)

‘So you just assumed I said yes.’ Charlotte gave a
very knowing smile as Hamish had the decency to colour up a touch.

‘I just thought…’

‘Oh, I know what you thought, a good-looking doctor asks little nursy out on a Saturday night—so, of course, she’s going!’ It was Charlotte colouring up a touch now, the teasing note in her voice disappearing. ‘He knows that we’re sharing a house. I didn’t tell anyone,’ Charlotte added hurriedly. ‘I’ve no idea how he could know.’

‘You would have filled in a change of address form.’ Hamish said, and Charlotte nodded glumly.

‘Adams Farm?’ Hamish checked, and it was followed by another glum nod. ‘And I assume that you gave your new phone number for the emergency staff book…I’m called in so often that most of the senior staff know it off by heart. It was always going to get out, Charlotte.’

‘I just never thought it would be so soon.’

‘You’re driving my Jeep.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be—I knew it would happen. There’s no chance of a private life when you work in a hospital.’ He gave a tight shrug. ‘Maybe you should have said yes to Cameron, for no other reason than to stop the impending marriage in its tracks.’

‘Marriage?’ She gave him a startled look, caught his eye in horror, and Hamish grinned back as he spoke—for the first time he felt as if he was actually looking her, glimpsing the real Charlotte. ‘Well, this time next week that’s what they’ll all be saying…’ But even before he had finished speaking the moment was gone
as she threw her head back and laughed, and he realised he had been mistaken.

‘Why on earth would we worry about a little bit of paper when we can settle for a torrid affair—or even shopping?’

‘I
hate
shopping!’

‘Because you’ve never been with an expert.’ Charlotte rummaged in her bag and pulled out a diary, clicking on her ballpoint and smiling at him. ‘I suppose I could just buy my stuff and label it, as I did when I lived in the youth hostel, or I could hazard a guess as to what you and Bailey like and take pot luck. Well?’

‘Well, what?’

‘Look, if you really don’t want to hit the supermarket, I’ll write a list. Tell me what you like, what Bailey likes—oh, his nappies are getting low and we’re running out of washing powder. Write down what type you use—’

‘Okay, okay.’

‘Do you need any toiletries—what brand?’

‘I get the message, Charlotte.’

‘What message?’

‘We’ll all go. I just need to change Bailey’s nappy first.’

‘Brilliant.’ Charlotte beamed, rummaging in that blessed bag and pulling out her car keys. ‘I’ll drive!’

On cue, Bailey waddled in and didn’t go directly to his dad, instead aiming straight for Charlotte. As she bent over to pick him up it was impossible not to notice the soft flesh of her breasts threatening to spill out of her flimsy nightdress.

‘Er, Charlotte…’ He stared at her, Bailey balanced
on one hip, her face flushed from the exertion of unloading the horses, without a scrap of make-up, dark curls tied up in knots from the absence of a brushing, still in that nighty and gumboots, and he’d never seen her more beautiful. It was impossible not to smile, impossible not to adore her and impossible not to wonder if she were wearing any panties! ‘Shouldn’t you get dressed first?’

She stared down, aghast. ‘Heavens, yes!’ Plonking Bailey down, she ran to the stairs as she called out to him over her shoulder. ‘I’d have gone, you know—if you hadn’t told me I’d be walking around the supermarket…’

Her voice faded as she climbed the stairs, but instead of changing Bailey’s nappy, instead of trying to locate his wallet or checking the pantry for what was needed—everything—Hamish just stood there…

‘Dar-dot!’ Bailey stared at his dad, as if reading his mind. ‘Want Dar-dot.’

‘I know the feeling, buddy,’ Hamish said under his breath, then, picking up his son, he stared at the muddy footprints her gumboots had left the length of the hallway—like some decadent yellow brick road that he was tempted to follow. Her dog and cat sat forlornly at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her to come down, and at that moment both he and Bailey could have joined them.

She’d spun into his world on her own self-fuelled tornado, filled his empty home with animals, laughter and gentle bullying—it was eight o’clock on a Saturday morning and here they were, heading for the shops. The
spare room was painted, Bailey far happier than he ever had been, and as for Hamish…

His stomach tightened with lust and something else which at the moment he couldn’t define, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His good mood soon evaporated. For Hamish there was nothing attractive about Saturday morning at a super-market—early they might be, but every family in town had had the same idea and it took for ever to find a parking spot, then, attempting to pull out a trolley he discovered that since last he’d done this, he now needed a coin—which did nothing to add to his distracted and slightly testy mood. But Charlotte was in her element, loading Bailey into his little throne and steering her trolley like a woman on a mission.

‘What are you doing?’ Hamish snapped, as she replaced the loaf of bread he had picked up and replaced it with two of a different brand.

‘Buy one, get one free!’ Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out a huge silver bulldog clip holding together bundles of paper. ‘Coupons!’

‘
You
cut out shopping coupons!’

‘Of course I do! We’re not all on a consultant’s salary.’

‘This is bad enough, Charlotte, without having to…’ He peered through the mountain of coupons she had diligently clipped. ‘We’ll be here for ever.’

‘So relax and enjoy it!’

Easier said than done.

‘Hamish!’ Well groomed, well dressed and, well, just a little pushy, one of the mums from crèche caught up with him as he was wrestling a huge box of nappies
from the top shelf, as opposed to the small pack he usually purchased, while Charlotte checked out the gum gel. ‘No luck with the potty training, then?’

‘None,’ Hamish said grimly. ‘How did it go with Felicity?’

‘Great. She’s actually dry through the night now. Oh, hello!’ Despite her smile, there was defiantly a frown on her face and a rather awkward moment ensued as Charlotte came over, her hands full of lotions and potions, completely unable to make a choice.

‘This is Charlotte.’ Hamish started to introduce, then came another awkward moment when he realised he didn’t actually know Felicity’s mother’s name. ‘She lives with me.’

‘Oh!’

‘Well sort of…’ Hamish offered, wishing he’d never agreed to come shopping.

‘I’m the live-in babysitter.’ Charlotte gave a warm smile. ‘And you are…?’

‘Lucy!’ The frown that looked as if it had been tattooed on faded just a touch. ‘So you two aren’t…’

‘Goodness, no.’ Charlotte laughed as the two vertical lines evaporated completely. ‘He’s way too miserable for me.’

‘You know, I bought Felicity a lovely potty. When she goes it plays a little song—of course she’s past that now, she’s sitting on the toilet.’

‘Fantastic!’ Hamish attempted.

‘You’re welcome to borrow it when you want to have another try with Bailey. Catch me at crèche
drop-off one morning if you want it and you can call around and pick it up.’

‘Sure.’ Once she’d gone, Hamish gave a miserable sigh. ‘Maybe I
should
just buy the little pack after all and
really
give this potty training a go.’

Still, after that, shopping was surprisingly easy—Charlotte made it surprisingly easy. Whipping out a little carton of apple juice from that oversized handbag when Bailey started grizzling, piling the trolley with food, essentials and an awful lot of goodies as she chattered on incessantly. Even the formidable queue was made bearable when finally he followed her lead.

She was leafing through magazines, brazenly reading anything that caught her interest, then, without even a hint of blush, putting them back and moving on to the next one as the checkout operator gave her a baleful look.

‘You can’t just read them and not buy them!’

‘If more aisles were open, I wouldn’t need to read their magazines.’ Charlotte shrugged. ‘Ooh, I think I
will
buy this one—apparently my finances are going to improve and I’m going to fall head over heels in love…’ Screwing up her nose, she suddenly put it back. ‘It says to watch my health. What does yours say?’ Charlotte asked, inching the trolley along and starting to unload, smiling as he actually picked up a glossy and thumbed his way through it.

‘That if I’m not careful I’m going to be completely corrupted—Bailey, too…’ Hamish gave an apologetic nod to the now extremely irritated checkout operator as his son reached over and clamped his hand over a bar of chocolate. ‘No, Bailey!’

‘Oh, he’s been so good, just let him have it,’ Charlotte said, peeling off the wrapper and handing it to the checkout assistant, dazzling her with her smile as she unloaded their groaning trolley. ‘How are you?’ Charlotte beamed before the assistant even had a chance to deliver the weary question of her own. ‘Worn out, I’ll bet, with these queues and everyone moaning about delays. Why on earth don’t they open more checkouts and make things a touch easier for you?’

And somehow she did it again. The miserable, irritable checkout operator was now gratefully taking the opportunity to moan about management and customers and people who thought their children could help themselves to whatever they wanted at the checkout.

‘Not like you, of course…’ She gave the three of them a fond smile as she tore off the receipt. ‘At least you remembered to hand over the wrapper. You make a lovely family.’

‘Thanks,’ Charlotte said, steering the trolley towards the café, ignoring Hamish’s sudden dark mood. ‘Ooh, smell that bacon.’

‘Let’s just get home.’

‘Surely we can have just a quick coffee!’

Which for Charlotte meant the full breakfast! Sitting down with her laden tray in the cosy café, she ignored Hamish’s baleful look.

‘You shouldn’t have said that,’ Hamish said when finally she was organised and tucking into a mountain of bacon, eggs and beans. Bailey was happily chomping on a large muffin.

‘Said what?’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Are you sure you don’t want some breakfast?’

‘That we were a family.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Tearing open a roll, she ignored the shake of his head and crammed it with bacon and handed it to him. When still he shook his head, she popped it on a side plate and left it on the table in front of him. ‘And you did so well with Lucy—you practically told her I was your new lover.’

‘Well, I’ll know better next time,’ Hamish snapped. ‘But you let that woman think we were actually a family…’

‘She was just making conversation, for goodness’ sake. What was I supposed to say to the poor woman? “Well, actually, he was widowed last year, the little guy hasn’t got a mum—oh, and while we’re on the subject my mum actually just sold the family home and flew off with her latest lover to Queensland, technically leaving me and all my pets homeless…”

‘Oh, Helen! Over here!’ Charlotte stood up and waved as Hamish tried to sink lower in his seat as their strange living arrangement was suddenly outed again.

‘You said you were discreet!’ Hamish hissed. ‘What the hell did you have to call her over for?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Charlotte blinked as Helen gave a delighted wave and made her way over. ‘Everyone knows anyway!’

‘But we look like…’ He stared around the café, at all the tables filled with couples and toddlers and groaning trolleys, but Charlotte missed his point.

‘We’re not snogging.’ She giggled. ‘We’re not sitting
holding hands across the table while I feed you with my fork. We are allowed to eat, you know, and shop. Relax, would you?’

He had no intention of relaxing!

None at all, though when Helen barely turned a hair, just gave a vague ‘hi’ to him then proceeded to chat to Charlotte about a new shoe purchase, he wasn’t left with much choice but to give in, give up his bad mood and drink his coffee.

‘I took your advice and got them, Charlotte…’ Helen rummaged in the carrier bag. ‘You like my new shoes, Hamish?’

He was about to give a polite nod and smile when Helen pulled out a pair of brown flats, or whatever shoes sixty-year-old women wore, but as Helen pulled out a pair of very high, very red stilettos, somehow he knew he mustn’t catch Charlotte’s eyes, knew that if he did, he’d start laughing.

‘They’re…nice.’

‘Gorgeous.’ Charlotte beamed. And Hamish decided that the world had gone mad!

And finally he did relax, taking the roll and biting in to it, chatting to Bailey yet glancing over every now and then as Charlotte oohed and ahhed with Helen.

Trying and failing to make her out.

Today was the first time she’d even so much as indicated that her own life was less than perfect, the first time he’d even glimpsed at what went on behind that happy, scattered thought process, and Hamish, finally admitted to himself that he wanted to hear more…
really
wanted to get know the real Charlotte.

And later, when the groceries had long been put away and his whole day had been spent avoiding thinking, he walked into the family room to see her curled up, reading on the sofa, idly eating an apple and wearing glasses he’d never seen her in before. Weak in the knees with longing, finally he could avoid it no more, condensed his thoughts just a touch further…

He really wanted her…

‘Where’s Bailey?’ Smiling quizzically at him just standing there, Charlotte looked up from her book.

‘Teasing the cat!’ Hamish gave a tight smile, feeling like a lech for being caught staring, feeling like an idiot just standing there, but his mind was working overtime, wondering if he could ring Bel and ask her to babysit, then wondering what the hell he would do then! He hadn’t asked a woman out in over a decade! And if he did ask her and she said no, how awkward would that make things? And if he did ask her and she said yes…

‘What time is it?’

‘Six.’ Hamish stared down at his watch. ‘Charlotte, I was just thinking—’

‘Six!’ Horrified, she jumped up. ‘Oh, God, I got lost. I’ve been reading for hours! I’m going to be late! Sorry…’ Spinning out the room, she paused momentarily. ‘What were you thinking?’