The Midwife's Son. Sue MacKay

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СКАЧАТЬ her tummy, her sex. Once more her cheeks blazed, when they’d only just cooled down after the last time. What was going on here? She never blushed. It must be the drink. She stared at her glass belligerently and tried to push it aside, but couldn’t. Not when she was letting her hair down for the first time in years and enjoying a drink or three. Nicholas was staying with his little friend, Bobby, just down the road at Pohara Beach. Tonight was hers to make the most of, mummyhood on hold for a few hours. Tomorrow reality would kick back in and she’d pick up the reins again. Not that she ever really let them go. But for one day and night it was great to be able to stop worrying.

      ‘How old is your little boy?’

      So mindreading was one of Jackson’s talents. ‘He’s four and a handful. A gorgeous, adorable handful who keeps me on my toes nonstop.’ He’d looked so cute at the marriage ceremony in his long trousers and white shirt.

      ‘What happened to his dad?’

      This man was blunt. ‘Which rumour did you hear?’ she asked, as she contemplated how much to tell.

      ‘That he was a soldier on secondment who didn’t take you with him when he left. That he was the married CEO of a big company who liked beautiful young women on his arm.’ Jackson drank some more champagne. Was that what had made him suddenly so talkative? ‘That he was an alien visiting from Mars for a week.’

      Her growing anger evaporated instantly and she dredged up a smile. ‘Guess you know you’re home when everyone starts making up stories about you.’

      ‘Which is why I hightailed it out of here the day after I finished school.’

      ‘Really?’ Jess could feel her eyebrows lifting and brought them under control. How much would he tell her?

      The steady green gaze locking onto her lightened. ‘Really. I hated it that I couldn’t sneeze without someone telling me I’d done something wrong.’

      Not much at all. Memories niggled of a rumour about Jackson and a pregnant girl, something to do with a set-up. ‘It’s like that, isn’t it? Claustrophobic.’ She shuffled around on her chair, all the better to study him again. ‘But there’s also security in that.’

      ‘You haven’t told me which story is true. I’m guessing none of them.’

      Persistent man. Or was he just shifting the focus off himself? She didn’t talk about Nicholas’s father. Not a lot of point. ‘I prefer the alien one.’

      He nodded. ‘Fair enough.’

      That’s it? He wasn’t going to push harder for information? Most people wouldn’t care that the subject had nothing to do with them. She could get to like Jackson Wilson. Really like him. ‘How long are you home for?’

      ‘Almost three months.’

      Her eyebrows were on the move upwards again. Three months? That seemed a long time when Sasha had mentioned this was his first visit in thirteen years. Of course, his mother had MS now. And there was Sasha’s baby girl, Melanie, to get to know. ‘Amazing how weddings bring people together from all corners of the world.’

      ‘You’re fishing.’ He grinned at her.

      ‘Am I catching anything?’ She grinned straight back.

      His grin faded. His focus fixed on her. Again. She was getting used to his intense moods. ‘I need a break. A long one.’ He stretched those fascinating legs further under the table and crossed them at the ankles. ‘And now you’re going to ask why.’

      Putting all the innocence she could muster into her gaze, she tapped her sternum. ‘Me? No way.’ Then, unable to hold that look, she grinned again. ‘If you don’t tell me I’ll have to torture you.’

      His mouth curved upwards as his tongue slicked over his bottom lip. ‘Interesting.’

      Idiot. She’d walked into that one. Now he’d make some smutty comment and ruin the easy camaraderie between them. ‘Um, forget I said that.’

      ‘Forgotten.’ Did he add, ‘Unfortunately,’ under his breath?

      She so wasn’t into leather and handcuffs, or whips and ice. At least she hadn’t been. Her mouth twitched. Maybe she should head home now, before the champagne made her say more things she shouldn’t.

      Where were Sasha and Grady? Right in the centre of the floor, still dancing, wrapped around each other as though they were the only people there. A sudden, deep envy gripped her, chilled her despite the summer heat.

      She wanted what they had. Wanted a man who loved her more than anything, anyone else. Who’d put her first. A man to curl up against at night, to laugh and cry with. A man like— Her eyes swivelled in her head, away from the dance floor right to the man beside her. A man like Jackson? No. For starters, he was her best friend’s brother. Then there was the fact he was only home for a few months. Add his sophistication and Jackson was so not right for her.

      Hold that thought. Focus on it. Believe it. Remember how she’d thought Nicholas’s father would give her all those things, only to be shown just how wrong she’d been. Instead, she’d found a man incapable of commitment, even to his wife back in the States. A wife she hadn’t had a clue about.

      Unfortunately for her, right now, all the reasons for not getting involved with Jackson seemed to have no substance at all.

      CHAPTER TWO

      JACKSON WATCHED JESSICA. Her brown eyes lightened to fudge and darkened to burnt coffee depending on her emotion, flicking back and forth so fast sometimes she must give herself a headache. Talk about an enigma. One moment all shy and unsure of herself, the next flipping a sassy comment at him like she wanted him. Which was the real Jess Baxter?

      Suddenly the months looming ahead didn’t seem so long and depressing. Instead, they were beginning to look interesting. Could he spend some time with Jessica and get to know her? Have some light-hearted fun for a while and find the real woman behind that sharp mind and sad face? He enjoyed puzzles, but right now he didn’t even know where to begin solving this one. They were hitting it off fine. There might be some fun to be had here.

      But— Yeah, there was always a but. He didn’t want involvement. Especially not with a woman who’d require him to stay on at the end of those months, to become a permanent resident in the one place that he’d decided before he’d turned fifteen wasn’t right for him. Too small, too parochial. Too close and personal. Nasty, even. He’d never forget the gut-squeezing, debilitating hurt and anger when Miriam Blackburn had accused him of getting her pregnant. He’d only ever kissed her once. No wonder big cities held more attraction. Easy to lose himself, to avoid the piranhas.

      From the little Sasha had told him, he understood that Jessica had come home permanently. That she’d begun mending bridges with the people she wrongly believed she’d hurt years ago. Apparently she wanted her son to grow up here, where he’d be safe and looked out for. There was no arguing with that sentiment.

      He definitely wasn’t looking for commitment in any way, shape or form. Commitment might drag him back to the place he’d spent so long avoiding. He wasn’t outright avoiding women. But Jessica wasn’t like his usual type of woman. Those were sophisticated and well aware of how to have a good time without hanging around the next day. Women who didn’t get under his skin or tug at his heartstrings.

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