Midwives On-Call At Christmas

He wanted Bonnie and Freya to feel safe. To feel safe around him. Just as he’d felt safe to tell her about his past.

‘What happened to your dad?’

He gave a little sigh. ‘He died—two years ago of heart failure. Had a funeral with full military honours.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘He would have been very proud.’

* * *

Bonnie bent down and lifted the bottle of wine. ‘Why don’t we have a drink together and just talk?’

He nodded, then smiled as he took the bottle from her hand and turned the label around. He raised his eyebrows. ‘Did you open the most expensive bottle of wine that I had?’

She smiled and held up her phone. ‘You bet your life I did. I looked it up online first. I was planning on finishing it before you got back. You’re lucky I left you any.’ She handed him a glass.

He poured the remaining wine into his glass and stopped for a minute, holding it between both hands. He was staring at the liquid in the glass. ‘I’m just glad that you didn’t leave,’ he said quietly.

She reached over and put a hand on his back. ‘I wanted to. I didn’t even care that we had nowhere to go.’ She shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite understand herself. ‘But I just couldn’t, Jacob. Not like this.’

There was a silence for a few moments between them. Was she considering the same implications that he was? That what had started out as a temporary arrangement was becoming so much more?

He looked up through heavy lids. Now he’d come in from the cold, the heat of the house was hitting him in a big way. He’d gone from being frozen to the bone to feeling superheated in a matter of minutes.

Sensations of fatigue were sweeping over him. But his body was fighting it every step of the way. Fighting to hold on to the other sensations in his prickling skin. Those bright blue eyes were mesmerising. She didn’t need to speak. It was almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Was he imagining this? He’d never felt a connection like this before.

‘I guess not everyone leaves,’ he whispered.

Bonnie took a long, slow breath and put her wine glass on the floor. Although her actions were slow and measured, he didn’t doubt for a second that she knew exactly what she was doing.

As she turned to face him, one leg was pulled up on the sofa, tucking under her as she put her arms around his neck. ‘No, Jacob,’ she whispered. ‘Not everyone leaves.’

His breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. He’d never told anyone what he’d just told Bonnie. Now she seemed connected to him—tied to him, and he didn’t want that to end. The blood was roaring through his ears. The feel of the soft fluffy wool on the sleeves of her jumper pushed his temperature skyward.

But his self-defence mechanisms were still kicking into place. He’d lived his life too long like this for them to disappear instantly. ‘But you did leave,’ he murmured. ‘You left your husband.’

He was fixed on her eyes. Fixed on the perfectness of her skin and beautiful auburn hair framing her face. She nodded. ‘I did.’ It was almost as if she sensed she had to tease him every part of the way. She gave a little smile, ‘But I had exceptional circumstances—you know what they were.’

He reached over and touched her hair. ‘Not really. Tell me about them. Tell me about Freya’s dad.’

He could see her hesitation, see her sucking in a breath. He’d just shared with her. She now knew about one of the biggest influencing factors in his life. He’d barely scratched the surface with her.

Her eyes fixed on the floor. ‘Robert was my boyfriend. We were together about a year when I fell pregnant unexpectedly.’ She threw up her hands. ‘I know. Don’t say anything. A midwife accidentally falling pregnant. The irony kills me.’ Then she smiled. ‘But Freya is the best accident that will ever happen to me.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s stupid really, and hindsight is a wonderful thing. Robert’s parents were real traditionalists. So we got swept along with their ideals and got married before Freya arrived. The truth was Robert was never really the marrying kind.’

‘But you married him anyway?’ He gave a little smile. It wasn’t really a question, it was a more a sympathetic observation. Bonnie didn’t seem upset, just a little sad.

She started winding a strand of hair around her finger. She nodded. ‘I think I was more in love with the idea of being in love, than actually being in love. In my heart of hearts, I never really pictured us growing old together.’

‘And?’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I was busy with work and juggling childcare for Freya. I kind of lost sight of being married. Robert was distant—distracted. I suspected something was going on. It made me mad. I came home early from work one day and found another car in the drive. I let myself into the house and found Freya playing downstairs. Robert was upstairs, in bed, with one of my closest friends.’ She shook her head and sagged back a little. ‘It wasn’t my finest hour. The fact Freya was in the house. The fact it was one of my friends...’

Jacob raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, no. What did you do?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘My “friend” ended up naked in my front garden after I’d marched her down the stairs. Robert’s clothes were deposited out of the bedroom window—so at least she found something to wear.’ She shook her head. ‘After that, I just grabbed some things for me and Freya, packed up and went to my parents. I filed for divorce straight away.’

He was watching her closely. ‘How did you feel?’

She paused for a second. ‘It’s probably a really awful thing to say—but I was more humiliated than anything else. Robert and I had been growing apart. I probably always thought we would come to a natural end. I just didn’t expect it to be like that.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I wasn’t exactly heartbroken about it. I might even have been secretly relieved it was over. But we lived in a small place. Every person in the town knew exactly what Robert had done to me. And pride is a terrible thing. I felt people staring at me wherever I went. I couldn’t take it any longer.’

He nodded slowly. ‘So you came to Cambridge?’

‘I had to. I know you understand, Jacob. It’s called self-preservation. It’s the thing that makes you get out of bed for another day, even when you don’t want to. I needed a change for Freya and me. I needed a chance of a new life for us both.’

He reached and brushed a thumb down her cheek. She was so wise. He’d never met anyone like this before. There was so much more to learn about Bonnie Reid.

He’d shared with her tonight, and now she’d shared with him.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

Her pretty brow furrowed. ‘For what?’

‘For not leaving tonight.’ It was the thing that had bothered him every step of the way back home. It was the thing that he’d dreaded. That he’d expected. Because that was what he deserved. And he knew that. But Bonnie Reid had just surpassed all of his expectations.

His heart squeezed. If he’d left this room as she’d decorated it, things would have been perfect. The fire flickering in the fireplace, the tree lights twinkling all around them. But he’d destroyed all that and brought them back to his white, harsh, empty walls.

Bonnie Reid deserved better than that. Freya Reid deserved better than that.

She licked her lips. It was the tiniest movement—a subconscious movement—but it was all that he needed. He moved forwards, not hesitating, his lips connecting with hers.

She tasted of strawberries mixed with wine. The remnants of her perfume drifted up his nose, the feel of her jumper connecting with the delicate skin at the bottom of his throat. She didn’t seem to mind his wet jumper. She didn’t seem to care that wine sloshed from his glass as he wrapped one arm around her and tangled the other hand through her hair.

That hair. He’d wanted to touch it from the moment he’d seen it. It was silky, falling through his fingers easily. But he didn’t want it to fall through. He wanted to catch it—just as he wanted to catch her. So he wrapped it around his fingers, anchoring his hand at the back of her head as the kissing increased.

She pulled back—and for a horrible second he thought she was going to say this was all a terrible mistake. But she didn’t. Bonnie Reid was taking charge.

She moved, lifting the glass from his hand and sitting it on the side table, then, pushing his shoulders back against the sofa, she swung one leg over him, so she was sitting on top of him.

She put her arms around his shoulders again and looked him straight in the eye. ‘There. That’s better.’

‘It certainly is.’ He didn’t hesitate. He pulled her closer, feeling the warm curves of her breasts against his chest. He slid his hands up and under her jumper. Her smooth, silky skin beneath his fingertips. Everything about this felt right.

Her smell. Her taste. Her touch. Her fingers skirted around his neck and shoulders, along the line of his jaw, scratching against his stubble, then through his hair, pulling his lips hard against her own.

His tongue played around the edges of her mouth as their kiss deepened. Suddenly, these clothes were too much; they were stopping him from feeling exactly what he wanted to.

He drew back and pulled his wet jumper and shirt over his head, then pulled her soft jumper off, throwing it on the floor with his own.

Her round full breasts were encased in a cream lace bra. She was breathing heavily now, her body weight on the most sensitive part of him.

He ran his fingers across her shoulder, reaching the pale skin at the bottom of her neck and then down, over her breastbone, between her breasts and down to her navel, resting just above the button of her jeans.

She sucked in her stomach—an automatic reaction but an unnecessary one. He loved every part of her soft curves.

His brain was screaming ‘no’ to him right now. But his body just wasn’t listening.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Bonnie and Freya were in a vulnerable position right now. This was only a temporary arrangement. Jacob Layton didn’t form attachments. Not like this.

But everything about this felt right. Everything about this had been simmering under the surface since his first meeting with Bonnie. Now it was exploding to the surface in volcanic proportions.

For his part, the attraction had just grown. The more he got to know her and Freya, the more he admired her. Her strength, her resilience, her determination to do a good job.

Her empathy with patients, her patience with staff. Her sense of humour, her stubborn streak and the way she answered back. Bonnie Reid was one of a kind.

And he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Bonnie had already experienced one screwed-up partner. The last thing she needed was another. His hands stilled on her back.

Bonnie and Freya deserved a bright future. How could he give them one with his cancer history? That would always, permanently, hang over his head. He knew without asking that Bonnie would want more kids.

And he knew without thinking about it that he already believed the cancer was in his genes. He couldn’t do that to a child. He couldn’t do that to Bonnie and Freya.

‘Jacob? Is everything okay?’ She’d pulled back a little, a frown creasing her brow.

‘Mummy?’ The little voice cut through the emotions in the room.

Jacob froze. Bonnie did the opposite. She let out a little gasp, then flicked around, trying to locate her discarded jumper. She leapt off his lap and pulled the jumper over her head. Freya’s voice hadn’t sounded too close. She must be standing at the top of the stairs.

Jacob looked at his crumpled shirt and jumper, still together, but lying at Bonnie’s feet. ‘Do you want me to come?’

She shook her head quickly as she started towards the door. ‘No, no, it’s fine. Let me deal with Freya.’

His last view was of the bottom he so admired in those jeans. He heard her padding up the stairs in her bare feet. ‘Hi, honey. What’s wrong? Let’s get you back to bed.’ He heard the noise of her sweeping Freya into her arms and the voices faded quickly.

Jacob leaned forwards and put his head in his hands. What was he thinking? How could he have explained to Bonnie why he’d stopped kissing her, without telling her about his diagnosis—the one part of himself he still wanted to remain private?

His stomach twisted. He knew none of this was right. But Jacob didn’t share. It didn’t feel normal to him; it didn’t feel natural. Telling Bonnie about his mother had been the first time in his life he’d ever really shared.

But the cancer diagnosis? No. He didn’t want her to look at him that way. With pity. With sympathy. With the ‘I’m sorry there’s a chance you’ll die’ expression on her face.

He never wanted anyone to look at him like that—let alone Bonnie. He’d only told two colleagues—ones he trusted explicitly—and that was only because he’d had to reduce his patient contact while undergoing his most intense treatments. If he could have got away with telling no one that was exactly what he’d have done.

He sighed and leaned back against the sofa, his bare back coming into contact with the leather surface. It wasn’t comfortable, not against bare skin. Somehow he hadn’t noticed with Bonnie on his lap.

He looked around the room. White, stark walls.

It had looked so much better before.

He could admit that now. He could try and be rational about things. It seemed a little easier now he’d told Bonnie about his mother dying at Christmas.

He winced as he remembered the look of their faces earlier when he’d started to tear the decorations back down. How stupid. How pathetic. How ungrateful.

He stood up and grabbed his shirt and jumper from the floor, walking through to the kitchen and dumping them in the laundry basket. He had a pile of clothes sitting on top of the tumble dryer. He grabbed a T-shirt and walked back through to the hall.

He had to find a way to make things up to Bonnie and Freya. He hated that Freya might be scared of him now. He had to do something to change that.

He pulled open the hall cupboard door and was nearly speared in the face with Christmas tree branch. A single red bauble rolled past his feet. She’d stripped the Christmas tree but obviously kept all the decorations.

He gave a smile of relief. That was where she’d stored them.

He glanced at the empty banister. He might not have got some things right tonight, but if he wanted to make it up to them he knew exactly where to start.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BONNIE RUBBED HER sleep-ridden eyes. She’d had trouble sleeping after last night’s events. Freya had only woken up to go to the toilet and been a little disorientated. Once Bonnie had cuddled her back into bed she’d fallen asleep instantly.

But Bonnie’s head had been spinning. She’d been shocked by Jacob earlier. But she’d also known there had to be a reason behind it. A deep-seated reason. And that was why she’d given him the tiniest bit of leeway.

Now she understood. It didn’t excuse his actions, but she knew exactly how sorry he was—it had been written over every inch of his face. And when he’d shared about his mother she couldn’t help but cry.

Her thoughts immediately went to Freya. She couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to her and Freya being left alone. Who would love her the way she did? Certainly not her father. Something prickled down her spine. If anything ever happened to her, Freya would automatically go to her father. What kind of life would she have with him? The kind of life that Jacob had endured as a child?

Her skin tingled as Jacob entered her thoughts. Who was she kidding? Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

Jacob had opened up to her. But there was still so much she didn’t know about him—even though they were living under one roof. Maybe she was just being paranoid. But after living with an unfaithful, feckless husband, she wanted to go into any new relationship with her eyes wide open.

She’d been hurt. Freya had been hurt. She’d no intention of ever going down that road again. Self-preservation was a must. Even if any thought of him made her heart pitter-patter faster.

‘Can we have breakfast, Mummy?’ The little voice cut through her thoughts.

She turned and smiled at her little girl. She was blessed: Freya woke up each day in a good mood. She reached over and gave Bonnie a hug. ‘I like it when you’re in my bed, Mummy.’

She hugged back. ‘I like it too. But it’s only on special occasions. Now, what do you want for breakfast?’

‘Toast and jam.’

‘I think I can do that. Let’s go to the toilet and wash our face and hands first.’

As they reached the top of the stairs she bent down to pick Freya up. It was just instinct—she’d done it most mornings since they’d got there. Freya wasn’t used to stairs and Bonnie was always worried that she’d trip if she was still sleepy.

As she gathered Freya in her arms she realised something was a little off. It took her the first few steps to realise what it was. The red and green garland was wound back around the banister.

A smile started to edge around her lips. She kept walking. Now she could hear, and smell, activity in the kitchen. Someone was cooking bacon and singing while they cooked.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs the twinkling lights from the front room attracted her like a magnet. She walked back into the front room.

Everything was back exactly where it should be. ‘Look, Freya,’ she whispered.

The tree lights were twinkling, the branches redecorated with tinsel and baubles. The nativity scene was back on the side table. The red and green garland for the mantelpiece was back in place. She’d no idea how he’d managed to patch it together—but she didn’t really care.

The fact was, he’d done it.

‘Mummy, our tree’s back up,’ said Freya. A smile had lit up her face. ‘Does Jacob like it now?’

Bonnie nodded slowly. ‘I think he must.’ She couldn’t stop smiling. He’d revealed part of himself last night but now he’d obviously made the decision to try and move on.

The house felt full of warmth. It was so much nicer with the Christmas decorations up; it felt much more like a home, rather than just a house.

She carried Freya through to the kitchen. Jacob was putting a pot of tea on the kitchen table. ‘Oh, you’re up, good.’ His eyes skirted over to Freya; he looked wary. ‘I’ve made breakfast. Sit down.’

Freya stared at the plate of bacon as Bonnie put her in one of the chairs. ‘I don’t want bacon. I want toast and jam.’

Jacob smiled at her. ‘I thought you might say that.’ He produced a toast rack stacked full of toast and a jar of jam.

Bonnie smiled as she sat down. Freya reached over and grabbed a slice of toast. ‘Can you butter this, Mummy?’ Her eyes fixed on Jacob again. ‘I like that the tree’s back. I like the lights.’

A second of hesitation passed over Jacob’s face before he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Freya. ‘I do too. I think it was a good idea to get a tree for the house. Thank you very much. I’m sorry if I seemed angry last night. I was just a little surprised.’

Bonnie held her breath as she handed over the buttered toast to Freya and opened the jar of jam. She wasn’t entirely sure how Freya would respond.

But Freya just shrugged. ‘Can we watch cartoons today?’

It was that simple for a five-year-old. No stomach churning. No fretting. She just accepted what he said and was happy that the tree was back up.

Jacob and Freya continued to chat over breakfast. Today, it seemed, was going to be a quiet day in the house.

Jacob seemed more at ease. Maybe he was just getting used to having people in his house—or maybe talking about his mother last night had helped him a little.

She certainly hoped so.

It was so strange to see Freya chatting away with him. Even when they’d lived with her husband, breakfast had usually been their time together. Robert had rarely appeared at the breakfast table. And last night’s events seemed to have been quickly forgotten.

They laughed together and something twisted inside her. She wasn’t quite sure what it was. Fear? Envy? Confusion?

Jacob seemed comfortable this morning—but was she? She’d kissed him last night. If Freya hadn’t interrupted it might have become a whole lot more. Bonnie didn’t usually act on impulse—not when it came to men. But things with Jacob last night had just seemed so natural. So heated.

It made her want to catch her breath.

This was a new job. A new city. A new life.

Just how much change was she ready for?

* * *

Jacob felt as if he’d been holding his breath since last night. Ever since he’d kissed Bonnie and realised exactly the effect she had on him.

Part of him was sorry. Now he would always know exactly what he was missing. Part of him wasn’t the least bit sorry. It had been a long time since he’d felt a connection to someone. The fact that Bonnie was a mother hadn’t even entered his head.

If you’d asked him a few years ago if he’d ever have a relationship with someone who had children he would have said an overwhelming no. But he’d have been wrong. With the exception of last night, he’d liked being around Freya. It was surprising him—just as much as it was probably surprising Bonnie and Freya.

He’d noticed the way people were looking at him at work. For the last ten days he’d felt differently. He’d felt lighter. This morning he practically felt so light he could float away. The only thing that was still anchoring him to the ground was his test results.

Even if—and he prayed they would be—they were good results, it still wouldn’t change other things for Jacob. The cancer would always lurk in the background, always a possibility of a recurrence. Always that uncertainty of whether it was familial and he could pass it on. Gene mapping wasn’t quite there yet to give him that answer.

But these last few days at home had felt so much better. Putting up the decorations again last night had given him a lot of thinking time. It was time to put the negative associations that he had with Christmas to bed.

His mother would have hated him being like this. Feeling like this about a season that should be the happiest of times.

The look on Freya and Bonnie’s faces this morning when they realised he’d put the decorations back up had been enough for him. He was sure he’d done the right thing. He’d also done something else. He was still to find out if it was right or not.

He pushed some tickets along the table to Freya. ‘I found out about a little surprise. I was wondering if you and your mum would like to come.’

Freya stared down at the tickets. The words were obviously too complicated for a five-year-old, but the pictures told a good story. She pointed. ‘Is that Rudolph? Can we go and see Rudolph?’

Jacob looked up at Bonnie. He was feeling hopeful, even though he should probably have run this by her first. She leaned over and spun the tickets around. ‘Today? The Christmas lights, a visit to Santa and a chance to meet the reindeers?’ Surprise and amusement, with a tiny bit of disbelief, mixed through her voice as her eyebrows rose.

He nodded carefully. ‘What do you think? Would you like to go?’

Her face relaxed and she lifted her mug of tea to take a sip. Her voice was quiet. ‘I think that would be lovely. Thank you for thinking of us, Jacob.’

Her gaze met his. She was still thinking about last night.

He’d pulled back. She must be wondering why. Because the air between them still sizzled. It crackled. He still wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, kiss her lips. He just didn’t want to be unfair.

He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll always think about you, Bonnie.’

Silence hung between them. It was probably the wrong thing to say. It almost seemed as if he were finishing something that had never started. Truth was, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing right now. But the implication was clear. Bonnie was affecting him. He did feel something for her—even if he didn’t know what it was.