One Month to Become a Mum

The young mother’s face crumpled, her eyes red-rimmed and brimming with tears. ‘I’m so sorry. Really sorry. Kyle, say sorry to the doctor. Naughty boy. Naughty.’

It seemed an extreme reaction to a sneeze. Maybe she was just the anxious type.

‘It’s fine, Stacey. They’ll wash. Worse things happen, believe me. He couldn’t help it.’ Jessie pointed to her shoulder. ‘Sticky patch number one, vomit from a two-year-old. There’s felt tip on my sleeve from an uncoordinated six-year-old. I’ve got four more hours of clinic to get completely covered in gloop. Things are just warming up.’

Stacey seemed appeased by this, but her twitchy demeanour and puffy red face gave Jessie cause for concern. She leaned forward and touched her hand. ‘Is there anything else?’

Stacey shook her head, reached for a tissue, wiped her eyes and the boy’s nose. ‘We should go, I suppose, you’re busy.’

But instead of standing up, Stacey stayed where she was, tears refilling her eyes. As she wrung her hands in her lap, her knee jerked up and down apace. ‘Kyle, please for once sit still.’

Ignoring the flashing on her computer announcing that her next client had arrived, Jessie waited. Stacey needed time and space. Phooey to Luke, Patron Saint of Perfectly Run Clinics. Sometimes patients needed extra attention. ‘Are you worried about something, Stacey?’

Stacey’s hand hovered over her mouth as if holding her words in. She bit her lip and looked away. ‘I missed a period.’

‘You think you might be pregnant?’ Jessie lowered her voice to prevent Kyle hearing.

‘Yes. I have sore boobs and I feel sick pretty much all of the time.’ Stacey’s chin quivered. ‘Just like last time.’

‘And you’re not happy about it?’

‘No. My husband’s just left me. I can’t cope with two kiddies on my own.’ She looked over at her three-year-old now sitting on the floor engrossed in The Monster Book of Dragons. ‘I can’t cope with one. I don’t think I want this.’

‘I understand.’ Jessie nodded and a lump wedged under her diaphragm, pressing deep, catching her breath. Dealing with pregnant mums always brought back an echo of the sadness that had lingered in her bones far too long.

It was the small details that had surprised her the most; how, in the pregnancy books, foetal development was measured in terms of fruit. The size of a strawberry, then a lime, then a grapefruit. She used to joke about how she was going to give birth to a fruit salad.

And how being pregnant had been like carrying the happiest secret ever. And that as her belly had swelled so had her heart. Chock full of love for someone she’d never even met.

She squashed the swell of emotions rising in her chest. Now was not the time to remember these things. She would never let her own experiences interfere with her practice. Stacey needed a coherent, competent doctor not a gloomy one.

‘The thing is, I wanted a baby, my husband didn’t.’ Stacey’s lip wobbled. ‘I thought I could convince him, but all we did was argue.’

‘Sometimes life gets hard, Stacey. I know. Truly.’

Stacey ripped a tissue into fragments and let them drop onto her lap like a tiny snowdrift. ‘I can’t have a baby. It’s not the right time. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

‘Whatever happens, you’ll get through this. Trust me.’ It did get easier, she knew that from painful experience. It was amazing what you could survive.

Jessie picked up the tissue scraps and put them in the bin, then took hold of Stacey’s hand. ‘Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. First, I’ll get Maggie to do a pregnancy test.’

‘Oh, no.’ The colour drained from Stacey’s blotchy face. ‘Not Maggie. She’s my husband’s aunt and word spreads so fast here. North Beach is a small town. Small minds make big gossip, my mum used to say. I don’t want him knowing. Not yet. Not until I’ve got my head around it. Please don’t tell anyone.’

‘Of course not, although I will have to write something in your notes. But seeing as this is Kyle’s consult, I can’t think why anyone would need to look at your information. Rest assured, Stacey, I’m here to help. And I won’t tell a soul.’

Luke regarded the view of the swamp pixie’s taut derrière as she stretched to the back of the drug cupboard, and tried to ignore the fizz of heat in his abdomen.

What the heck was going on with his body these days?

He almost groaned in frustration. Weird. He couldn’t remember his hormones ever being this out of sync with his brain.

He battled against this unfamiliar surge of lust. Yes, she was hot. But there were plenty of hot women around.

It felt like over the last two years every emotion had been caught in a weird freeze-frame and now someone—Jessie—had flicked a switch on his awareness scale. And it had spiked.

Inconvenient. And temporary, he’d make sure of that. Dragging back the memory of her odd behaviour that morning, he attempted to activate his ‘off’ switch. As he glanced at her butt again the switch refused to budge.

Damned irritating. All his knowledge of Jessie so far suggested she was a typical, selfish drifter type. Just like Chloe. Endlessly appealing and ethereal. Promising everything and giving nothing. Oh, except a baby to look after.

Professional courtesy deemed he remove his eyes from Jessie’s backside and make polite conversation. ‘How’s it going? Got over this morning’s drama?’

Jessie twisted and peered up at him. The tight corkscrew hair had softened and tendrils framed her face, giving an almost angelic impression. Apart from an odd milky smudge on her shoulder and a large stain on her knee. And the far from angelic stare.

The pulse at her slender throat beat a rapid tattoo and it took a mammoth effort not to place his hand on it, count the beats, touch her skin. But he managed it.

An eyebrow rose as she spoke. ‘Um. What? Sorry?’

‘Ah, nothing. Forget it.’

‘Forgotten already.’ She turned her back to the cupboard and fumbled in her pocket. Then quickly walked away. Was it his imagination, or were her cheeks red?

He watched Jessie’s quickened pace down the corridor. Her delicate way-too-grown-up blouse pulled across a taut ridge of shoulder muscle, and her clenched fists, the jerky movement of her hand to her pocket all sounded alarm bells in his head.

She didn’t look flustered, she looked hunted. He’d seen that look on a woman’s face before—when he’d discovered Chloe’s one-way plane ticket out of North Beach. Her get-out-of-jail-free card, she’d called it. Free? He’d unwittingly footed the bill when she’d borrowed his credit card.

Still, hunted was not at all how he expected a locum to act. Something in her manner didn’t add up. ‘Did you find what you were looking for, Jess?’

She slowed, but didn’t stop. Her hand curled next to her trouser pocket. ‘It’s Jessie. Or Jessica. No one calls me Jess. I don’t like it. I’m. Fine.’

‘You sure?’

Swivelling on her heel, she pierced him with dark blue eyes, the flush of her cheeks now a rash down her neck. A frown etched deep across her forehead. ‘Luke, I’m busy.’

He glanced at her slim fingers as they stole into her pocket. She was hiding something. His pulse jittered.

Keep calm. It may just be nothing. ‘You’ve just seen Kyle Phillips, haven’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Everything okay? Didn’t need anything for him?’

‘No.’ She threw him a tight smile and tapped her watch. ‘Got to go. Don’t want to upset the time police.’

As she turned she stumbled against the wall. ‘Stupid heels.’

A packet fell from her pocket to the floor as she edged down the corridor.

‘Hey, you dropped something.’

‘Oh.’ It was more a sigh than a word. She bent to the floor at the same time as he did.

His hand covered the packet.

Her hand covered his and her heat infused his skin. His gaze shot to her face. Wide blue eyes stared up at him. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip.

She shook her head, a tiny movement that shouted, Don’t ask.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. Words lost their way from his brain to his mouth.

God, she was lovely. An ache stole into his stomach. His heart pounded. His lips dried.

Whatever the heck she’d been doing, whatever she’d been hiding, he didn’t care.

Suddenly he wanted to feel the bow of her lips against his, press against her curves, let her body tell him the answers to all those questions zinging around his head.

What? Kiss her? Here? In full view of his staff?

Since when did lust place before trust?

Lust. For God’s sake, where did this sudden weakness come from? Women like Jessie were poison, and he sure as hell wasn’t tempted to have a shot.

Plus, he was in the middle of the double-booked clinic from hell, with no time to analyse this self-destructive reaction to a locum. He just needed to gain some self-control.

‘I’ve got it.’ He snatched his hand from under hers, dragging his gaze away from those captivating eyes, and unfurled the packet from his fist. ‘There you are. Oh, a pregnancy test. Is that all?’

Even the tops of her ears were red as she grabbed the packet and straightened her blouse down over her hips. ‘Thanks.’

‘All this fuss over nothing.’ He blew out a long breath. He had totally misread the situation. Letting memories of Chloe get in the way of a decent working relationship. ‘Maggie usually sorts the tests out, I’ll give her a shout. Tell the patient to wait in the nurses’ area.’

‘It’s…. No. I can handle it.’ Her eyes flicked towards the bathroom. ‘I’ll do it myself.’

Luke’s stomach plummeted a thousand feet.

Fool.

Three-year-old Kyle Phillips certainly didn’t need a pregnancy test. Jessie’s next patient was Frank Carrington, so unless the IVF schedule had been extended to eighty-year-old kumara farmers, the pregnancy test must be hers.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

Head cocked to one side, her mouth slanted then curved into an O shape. She waved the packet in the air.

‘You thought this was for me?’

Her eyes darkened as she, almost subconsciously, it seemed, ran a hand across her belly. He’d seen her do that a few times—in the car, when she’d first seen Lucy and again now. Unusual. Some kind of nervous reflexive reaction. Like nail biting or toe tapping.

A bitter-sweet laugh erupted from her lips as she walked back into her consulting room. ‘I don’t think so, Luke. Now, I really do have to get on.’

‘Of course.’ He stared at the space she’d left and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, shaken by his visceral reaction to her. Boy, oh, boy, he’d need therapy by the time this woman had finished her three-week stint.

Once he’d have tried to work her out, enjoyed the thrill of the chase, just for the hell of it. But things had got complicated and he’d been badly burnt.

Jessie’s private life was none of his business, and it would stay exactly like that until she left.

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