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For a long, interminable second he stared into her eyes and the pain shifted, replaced by another emotion she couldn’t define or didn’t want to, as his gaze lowered to her lips for a moment before returning to lock on to hers.
Her heart tripped as his grip on her chin softened and he leaned towards her an infinitesimal inch, a subtle heat smouldering in his golden eyes.
No way. That banked heat had to be anger, disgust, anything other than need, surely?
And to make matters worse, her pulse raced at the thought.
‘You don’t know the meaning of punishment,’ he said, his soft, minty breath fanning her face way too close before he dropped his hand and stepped away, running a hand through his hair and adding to the dishevelled air he’d had about him since the testing.
The test! She’d been so caught up in the awkwardness between them, she hadn’t even asked how it had gone. As for his cryptic comment, she assumed he was referring to her not telling him about Toby and she chose to ignore it, too tired to fight any more.
‘How did the testing go?’
He grimaced and showed her the back of his hand, where a faint purplish bruise was already taking shape. ‘I hate needles for a reason. Damn medicos can never find a vein in my elbow crease so they always go for the back of my hand and it hurts like hell.’
‘Poor baby,’ she crooned, surprised by her urge to tease and even more surprised by her smile. That was twice in one evening he’d made her smile when she hadn’t felt like it in days.
In a way, having Jed around could be a good thing and not just as a potential donor for Toby. If she was completely honest with herself, she liked having a male around who didn’t depend on her totally, who could pick up the slack or who could just be there if she needed him. Not that she could count on Jed. She’d learned that the hard way.
‘Guess a kiss to make it better is out of the question?’ He held out his hand, staring at it in mock dismay as if the tiny bruise had developed into a giant haematoma.
Her lips twitched at the startling similarity between father and son, Toby pulling this same trick last month when he’d jammed his finger in the fridge door—while pilfering a vanilla slice she’d said no to!
‘Maybe not.’
Jed’s eyes were riveted to hers in wide-eyed shock as she kissed her fingertips and casually tapped them on the back of his hand. ‘There, all better.’
Shaking his head, he thrust the all-better hand into his trouser pocket, glaring at her with irritation. ‘You still confuse the hell out of me.’
Her smile faded as reality intruded.
The way she saw it, there had been no confusion in their happy relationship. Until she’d introduced the topic of forever and he’d started playing hide and seek, that was. Then there had been confusion and plenty of it, unfortunately all on her part.
‘I have to go.’
Her sharp response shattered the last of any lingering camaraderie that she’d falsely created with her teasing. What had she been thinking anyway? Getting along with Jed for the sake of Toby was one thing, getting too familiar another.
It was his fault with that unexpected look he’d given her, the one which screamed ‘I still think you’re hot’. Or was it hers, a spot of wishful thinking tainting her reactions to the one man who had once rocked her world?
Either way, she needed to get out of here. Away from Jed, away from his all-seeing eyes, away from the temptation of staying by his side just because it felt so darn good to share her problems with someone else.
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket and standing back to let her lead the way.
‘No!’ she practically shouted before lowering her voice with effort as he raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll take a taxi and you head back to your hotel. You must be exhausted after the day you’ve had. After all I’ve dumped on you. In fact—’
‘Shh.’ His finger against her lips stopped her babbling while kick-starting her pulse again. It hammered and tripped and pounded its way through veins suddenly way too small for all that blood, depriving her oxygen-starved brain of a much needed jolt.
‘I’ll drop you off. Besides, I’m staying at the Bayside Novotel just down the road from you. Come on.’
Why couldn’t she move? Say something? Do something? She didn’t want to be confined in his snazzy hire car. She didn’t want to talk or smile or feel any of the other crazy things he’d made her feel over the last few hours.
She wanted to go home to bed, to think, to pray for her little boy and to forget every reason why this man made her feel so protected, so comforted, when he had no intention of sticking around for the long haul.
‘Aimee? You’re swaying on your feet. Let’s go.’
The last of the fight drained out of her and she followed him, blowing a silent kiss in Toby’s direction.
Her son would meet his father tomorrow and heaven help her if she didn’t handle it a lot better than the last few hours with Jed.
Jed looked out of his hotel window, his absent-minded stare taking in the glittering lights of Melbourne in the distance, the sweep of the shoreline of Port Phillip Bay and the neon glow from bars and restaurants in a bustling St Kilda on his doorstep.
Usually he loved the bright lights, the razzle-dazzle of any city at night, and he’d been around the world to quite a few. Before his stint on Dunk Island and the events that had changed his life, he’d worked in Bali, Singapore and Hong Kong, cooking up a storm at various five-star hotels.
Then he’d met Aimee and nothing had ever been the same again.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the cold glass, enjoying the cooling effect on his throbbing head. He had a blinder of a headache and, with the jumbled thoughts swirling through his mind, it looked as if it wouldn’t abate in a hurry.
When he’d first walked into the patisserie earlier this evening and seen Aimee, his heart had slammed into his ribcage as the years rolled back. She looked the same: blonde curls in a tantalising mess around her heart-shaped face, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners while she was deep in thought, her full lips pursed ever so slightly.
Then she’d turned to face him and he knew he was wrong. She didn’t look the same, she looked amazing, despite the smudge of icing sugar along her jaw and the dark rings of fatigue under her eyes. Not that they were any surprise, considering the bombshell she’d dropped on him.
He had a son. Toby.
And it was just as terrifying now as when she had first told him.
At least his anger had abated some, though he still felt like finding a kitchen somewhere and whipping up a gourmet meal for a hundred or so. Where his mates channelled their fury into kick-boxing and triathlons, he preferred whipping up a frenzy in the kitchen as an outlet for pent-up emotion, and man, was he on overload at the moment.
He’d barely absorbed the news he was Toby’s father before Aimee lumped the rest of it on him, the worst part, about Toby’s illness, and his anger had kicked in all over again.
What if his marrow wasn’t compatible? What if he didn’t know how to be a father at a time when Toby needed him the most? What if Toby hated him on sight?
Hell, he hadn’t even got into that with Aimee. How much had she told Toby? Did the boy know he had a father and, if so, what was his excuse for staying away for the first five years of his life?
The pain in his head increased as he contemplated questions he had no answers to.
He’d had this trip all planned out: see Aimee, hear her out, try to rekindle some of their old magic and see what happened.
Though she wouldn’t believe him, he’d changed. He’d done his duty, standing by his dad when he needed him the most. However, there wasn’t much he could do now apart from paying regular visits to the prison and, while the rest of his life had taken off like a rocket for outer space, his personal life lacked spark.
Sure, he had women schmoozing up to him all the time. TV did that for a bloke. But they were all fake, arm-candy types from the tops of their blonde foils to their nipped and tucked bottoms. He dated, he socialised but no one came close to filling the void Aimee had left when they’d split up and her urgent plea to see him couldn’t have come at a better time.
So he’d thought.
Now he had a woman who still despised him for the secrets he’d had to keep years ago, a son whom he suddenly found himself wanting to know yet paralysed with fear of inadequacy, and a situation he had no control over.
That’s bull and you know it. You’ve been in charge of your own destiny since you were fourteen years old and the old man did his first stint behind bars. You’re in control. You always have been.
Jed blinked in surprise at the ferocity of his voice of reason but it did the trick. He straightened, rubbed a weary hand over his eyes and headed for his laptop.
He had things to do, a life to prioritise.
So what if he hadn’t come to terms with his new role as a dad yet?
So what if he was so scared of failure he wanted to bolt back to Sydney as if none of this had ever happened?
The simple fact was, his son needed his help and he either stood up or wimped out, the second not an option.
Starting right now, Toby came first and everything else could be delegated or rescheduled. He may not be able to control the length of time he had with his son but by God he’d make every second count.
CHAPTER FIVE
AIMEE sat on an old wooden bench near the hospital entrance and sipped at her mocha latte, watching the parade of worried faces rushing past on a regular basis and wondering if she looked that bad. For Toby’s sake, she hoped not. She’d done her best to shield him from pain while he was growing up, feeling she owed him something extra to make up for not having a father.
Sure, her own dad had been amazing with his grandson, but after he’d died she’d noticed the subtle changes in Toby’s behaviour: he became more demanding, more cunning, more rough-house in his antics as if he could bully her into bending to his will.
She’d weathered the terrible twos, the tantrum threes and the frustrating fours, only to realise her son was gifted and needed more brain stimulation than the average child. Unfortunately, Toby’s high IQ also ensured he observed a lot more than other kids his age and he’d been particularly demanding about his father recently. He’d accepted her excuse that his father was overseas for a long time but lately he’d been pushing. Little had she known he would get his wish to meet his dad sooner rather than later.
Speaking of which…she watched Jed stride towards her, his long legs eating up the pavement, a guy intent on going places. He hadn’t seen her yet, his forehead puckered in concentration as he spoke into a mobile phone, using his free hand to emphasise his words to the person on the other end.
Warmth stole through her body and it had nothing to do with the morning sun blazing down its late-summer heat. Nor did it have anything to do with the casual beige chinos moulding his legs or the navy polo shirt fitting a muscular torso that didn’t belong on a chef. Didn’t he taste his own food? She had back then and had gained five kilos in six months!
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