Prognosis Christmas Baby Page 17
There was something innately tranquil about his features.
His hair was a shaggy brown shot with blond, as if naturally streaked by the sun. It hung down, brushing his collar, and seemed to part naturally in the middle, falling in haphazard layers over his ears and stopping just short of impeding his vision.
Combined with his three-day growth, he looked a little surfer dude and as far from Rupert’s cleanly shaven short back and sides as was physically possible. She’d always preferred that look but this guy was making her rethink.
His arms were tanned a deep brown, as if he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. His clothes were casual — threadbare jeans and one of those trendy T-shirts that looked like it had been painted by a pre-schooler. His chest was broad, his biceps firm in her peripheral vision.
‘I can get an Uber.’
‘Out here? You might be waiting a while. Where do you live?’
‘Windsor.’
‘Perfect. I live in the Valley. You’re on my way.’
He pushed away from the car the matter apparently settled and Carrie watched as he cleared their departure with the scene controller. Five minutes later, after she’d spoken with the tow company, Charlie was opening the passenger door to his sedan.
Carrie eyed it disparagingly, her mood considerably lightened compared to earlier. ‘You sure this thing goes?’ She could feel her old self returning.
Feigning insult, he said, ‘I’ll have you know this is a classic car.’
‘It’s ancient.’
Charlie chuckled. It was. It had been second hand when he’d inherited it as his uni run-around. ‘It’s...retro.’ And he was fond of the old banger, preferring it to the ostentatious BMW his parents had bought him for his thirtieth birthday. It had lot of happy memories.
He’d kissed his first girl in this car. Had driven to Uluru in it. Slept in it the night of his bucks’ party when he’d been too drunk to drive home.
The Beamer just didn’t have the same amount of soul.
“Does it even have anchor points?”
‘It’s not that old,’ he said, grabbing Dana’s car seat off the ground near her foot and opening up the back door, installing it like he’d done it a time or two before.
Dana stirred as Carrie transferred her into the seat. ‘Where are we, Mummy?’
‘In Charlie’s car,’ Carrie said quietly as she snapped the buckle in place. ‘He’s taking us home.’
Dana looked around with heavy eyelids. ‘I like it,’ she murmured as her eyes drifted shut.
Carrie met his amused gaze. It was warm and sexy and she blinked, surprised at the thought.
‘Your daughter obviously has an eye for a classic.’
‘She’s four.’
His laughter followed her into the passenger seat and a warm sensation down low and deep spread sensual tentacles to every cell of her body. It was strange and unnerving and she put the brakes on immediately.
So, he had a nice face and a great smile and had talked her down from the ledge tonight. She was a single mother with her eye on a prestigious job. She didn’t have time for Charlie’s.
It was a good minute before Charlie lost sight of the multi-coloured glow of the accident scene in his rear-view mirror. The adrenaline he’d felt at the scene had dissipated, leaving him feeling edgy, and he drummed his fingers against the steering-wheel. At least his passenger had perked up. Her trembling seemed to have settled and there was colour in her cheeks now.
She had auburn hair, he noticed for the first time. It was wavy rather than curly, tumbling to her shoulders and framing her oval face, emphasizing the cream of her complexion, the smattering of freckles across her nose and her big, light-brown eyes the exact shade of whiskey.
Her clothes were unusual. Purple tie-dyed shirt with a heavily beaded modest neckline and matching trousers. It was loose and flowing, hinting at her figure beneath rather than revealing anything. She had large silver hoop earrings and a thin silver choker with dangling lines of purple beads hanging like icicles.
The total effect was quite...hippy.
‘So, what do you do?’ Charlie asked, making small talk as the silence stretched between them.
‘I’m...in management.’
He laughed. She looked like she read palms for a living. ‘That’s suitably vague.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing very exciting. It pays the mortgage and the hours are good.’
He flicked a glance at Dana in the rear-view mirror. She was staring sleepily out the window, her blonde hair and blue eyes nothing like her mother’s. ‘How old did you say Dana was?’
‘She’s four.’
‘Cute age.’
‘Yes, it is.’ She smiled. ‘You got kids?’
Charlie snorted. ‘No.’
She seemed a little taken aback at his response and hesitated before asking, ‘Not your thing?’
If only. Quite the opposite, in fact. Charlie had wanted a family of his own for a long time. A chance to do it better than his parents had - if that was possible. If he wasn’t somehow genetically wired to screw things up, too.
He shrugged. ‘Veronica, my ex-wife, didn’t want them. It was probably just as well, given the divorce and everything.’
‘Was it bad?’
Carrie could have bitten off her tongue as Charlie’s knuckles grew white on the steering-wheel. She had no idea what had come over her. Maybe it was the moments they had shared at the accident scene that made her feel like normal social mores concerning privacy didn’t apply to them. That she could ask him such a personal question on such short acquaintance.
Maybe it was the familiar edge of bitterness scarring his voice.
‘Oh, God, sorry, that’s none of my business. Forget I asked.’
‘It’s OK.” His fingers eased around the wheel. “It was...kind of messy.’
“Sorry,” she apologized again before lapsing into silence, castigating herself mentally, ordering her mouth to zip up.
‘So...is there a dad around?’ He tipped his chin at her left hand. “I notice you’re not wearing a ring.”
Carrie startled at the quiet question, as intrusive as hers had been on such short acquaintance but answered it anyway keeping her voice neutral. Unemotional. ‘Not one that’s interested in Dana, no.’
She looked out the window. Even after five years Rupert’s desertion still stung.
‘Sorry.’
She shrugged. ‘His loss.’ Rupert had no idea what he was missing.
He nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
Carried glanced at him, hit by the sincerity of his tone but he was watching the road and she quickly looked away, also staring straight ahead. But his thigh was bulky and solid in her peripheral vision and his biceps flexed distractingly with every slight movement of the steering-wheel.
He reached for the radio, leaning in, his hair falling forward, momentarily obscuring the sexy stubble covering his jaw.
‘Do you mind?” he asked, his fingers hovering over the button. “Will it wake Dana?’
Carrie dragged her gaze away from his jaw. ‘She slept through a car smashing into us, four sirens and a helicopter.’
He chuckled. ‘Good point.’
Charlie was grateful for the music to distract them from conversation. At the accident scene Carrie had been easy to dismiss as a blood-phobic, hyperventilating, tie-dyed flake. But seeing her now, free of the stress of the accident, she was a different woman altogether.
One that appealed to him immensely.
She had teased him about his car, sympathised over his divorce and told him about her little girl. Suddenly she was three-dimensional. Complex. Desirable even.
The thought slid insidiously into his head.
Oh no. Hell no. She was a single mother. You didn’t mess with them. Honourable men knew that. Especially not when his life was such a mess. A separation, a divorce and six months in limbo over his health. In two weeks he’d have some closure, but until then his life was on hold.
And after that? There were things to do. Big things. A major project that had been shelved for too long was a priority. He wouldn’t have time for a single mother and her cute child. Relationships were going to be light from now on.
Nothing heavy.
His life had weighed a tonne for years. And women with children deserved more than that.
They passed the rest of the trip listening to the music and indulging in occasional light conversation. Charlie was grateful when he pulled up outside her apartment block. Her laughter and her scent had filled the car and he couldn’t hear the squeak of the back tyre any more or smell the slight aroma of rust. And he liked those things about his car. OK, it was probably a guy thing — heaven knew, Veronica had hated every inch of it — but he liked them a lot.
It was disturbing to think this woman could completely obliterate them.
‘Thanks for the lift, Charlie. And for...you know... snapping me out of it back there.’
Now she was home, Carrie didn’t want to get out. Strangely she felt like staying in the car, chatting with him. They’d shared an experience tonight that few strangers shared. They’d saved a man’s life and she felt a weird kind of connection.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I know that wasn’t easy for you. You did good. Really.’ Charlie wanted her to go as desperately as he wanted her to stay. It was an unsettling feeling. It was as if they’d developed a strange kind of bond. ‘I’ll help you with Dana.’
They got out of the car and Carrie ducked her head to unbuckle Dana. She managed to pick her up without disturbing her.
‘I’ll get the seat,’ Charlie said.
Except the damn thing decided to be recalcitrant. What the hell? It had gone in so easily. ‘I can’t get this blasted thing out?’
Carrie laughed. ‘Here. Take her.’ She gently passed Dana to him. ‘There’s a knack to it.’
Charlie’s chest tightened as Dana murmured and wriggled in his arms, trying to find the most comfortable position. Her blonde head snuggled into his neck.
Her hair smelt like toffee-apples.
Carrie removed the seat easily and he indicated for her to precede him up the path. When she reached the front door, she placed the seat on the ground and inserted the key. Turning, Carrie held her arms out for Dana and he passed her over gently.
It was such a domestic scene Charlie couldn’t quite believe he was in it. Or how...nice it felt. It had an odd kind of pull. But his life was complicated, his head was messed up and she had a child.
And he’d probably never see her ever again.
‘Well, thanks for this, Charlie. I really appreciate it. It was nice meeting you. I just wish it had been under different circumstances.’
He chuckled. ‘Amen to that.’
Carrie walked through the door and closed it without looking back. She put Dana to bed, trying not to think about the sense of intimacy she’d felt when Charlie had handed Dana back. It was insane to think that way.
Charlie was gone. The book had shut on their brief encounter. She had a daughter to raise and a career to forge.
She didn’t need any Charlie’s in her life.
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About the Author
Amy is an award-winning, USA Today best-selling, triple RITA nominated, Aussie author who has written seventy plus contemporary romances in both the traditional and digital markets. Her books bring all the feels from sass, quirk and laughter to emotional grit and panty-melting heat. At sixteen she met a guy she knew she was going to marry and several years later she did. She loves good books and great booze although she'll take mediocre booze if there's nothing else. For many, many years she was a registered nurse which means she knows things. Anatomical things. And she's not afraid to use them! She resides in a small seaside town in a house that overlooks the ocean and looks foreward to happy hour on her deck every single day.
Read more at Amy Andrews’s site.