A Mother for Matilda. Amy Andrews

knives.’

      ‘Of course you did, Victoria. You raised Josh and Ryan with textbook perfection. The twins knew right from wrong from very early. But they’re not little any more and they’re responsible for their own actions. They’re going to be flying the nest in a few months. Maybe its time to let go a bit, huh?’

      She looked back into her wine. With the bloodied kitchen floor still playing in her head and the worst-case scenario taunting the edges of her consciousness his praise over her mothering skills was just what she needed right now. As was his unsolicited advice to cut the apron strings.

      She was going overseas in ninety more sleeps, for crying out loud. They were all going to have to get along without her. And as much as the thought of leaving them and this place snagged at a place deep inside her like a jagged nail, they were all going to have to get used to it.

      She dragged her gaze away from the glass. ‘Tell me about working in London again. I’m sure you have some stories you haven’t told me yet.’

      Lawson regarded her for a second. Was she just changing the subject because he’d hit a little too close to home or did she need some kind of assurance that she was doing the right thing? He wasn’t sure what it was about—he’d never seen her quite this melancholy before—but he obliged anyway.

      Having kicked around the world for most of his twenties, he always had another story. He’d studied to become a paramedic straight from school but the minute he’d qualified he’d taken off for foreign lands, working and playing wherever the whim took him. Until the bombshell that had been Matilda, anyway.

      She had well and truly forced him to reassess his life when her mother, a fling on a brief sojourn home, had literally left him holding the baby. So he understood Victoria’s itchy feet and her desire to do something with her life. To live it.

      And if he could help her along by enticing her with his adventures, then he was more than willing. Even if the prospect of losing her to the wild blue yonder was disturbing on levels he didn’t want to admit.

      A couple of hours later Vic was nearing the end of her second glass of wine and a lovely buzz had settled in her veins. She felt just brave enough to pry. ‘So have you emailed Brianna yet?’

      Lawson, who had finished his beer a long time ago, frowned. ‘Brianna?’

      Vic laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘From today. At the hospital? Lawson, oh, Lawson,’ she mimicked.

      Lawson chuckled. ‘Not yet. I’ll have to do that tomorrow.’

      ‘You know she doesn’t give two hoots about the website, right?’

      Lawson looked affronted. ‘What are you suggesting?’

      Vic slapped her forehead. ‘Good Lord, for an intelligent man you’re thick sometimes.’

      Lawson stilled. ‘You think she was flirting with me?’

      ‘Lawson, she was coming on so heavy I thought Ryan would asphyxiate from an overdose of oestrogen before they got him to Theatre.’

      It’d been so long since he’d been in the game Lawson was pretty much ignorant to the subtleties of flirting. His priority had been Matilda and, Lord knew, life as a single father was a constant enough juggle without throwing a relationship into the mix. He shrugged. ‘I didn’t really notice.’

      Vic tisked. Sometimes she thought her crush would evaporate if Lawson weren’t so damn available. ‘All work and no play makes Lawson a dull boy.’

      ‘I play,’ he protested.

      ‘Lawson, you haven’t been on a date in I don’t know how long. Well over a year. What happened to the love-them-and-leave-them Lawson I knew when I was growing up? What’s the matter with you?’

      ‘I became a father.’

      Vic rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, sure, but you didn’t die, Lawson. There was a great-looking woman making eyes at you and you were completely oblivious.’

      ‘I’m out of practice.’

      She shook her head.

      ‘I’m…busy.’ God, he sounded pathetic. ‘I have Matilda to think about, after all.’

      Vic rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, please! Your kid is dying to be a flower girl again. You could marry the archetypal wicked stepmother and she couldn’t care less as long as she got to throw rose petals at her feet.’

      Lawson laughed. Matilda had been rather transparent in her attempts to marry him off since his sister got married a few months back.

      He shrugged. ‘You know how hard it is with kids to form relationships. It takes a really understanding person. Someone selfless. And that’s hardly a fair ask.’

      Vic nodded. She did know. None of her boyfriends had understood her commitment to her family. They said they did, paid lip service to it, but when push came to shove, and she had to cancel yet another date because the twins were sick or her father had been called out, they never stuck around.

      Hell, Lance had even gone one step further and looked elsewhere when she wasn’t around to service his needs.

      So she could certainly sympathise with Lawson. At least he could get some comfort from the fact that he’d had a life first. That was something she couldn’t claim.

      She glanced at him. They were closer now than they’d been earlier. He looked all brooding and intense and so all she wanted to do was lay her head on his shoulder and go to sleep. To forget about her responsibilities for a night and have someone look after her for once.

       Obviously the wine had gone to her head.

      She yawned and sat her empty glass down on the coffee table. She hiccupped and then laughed. ‘Wow, I think I’m a little tipsy.’

      Lawson raised an eyebrow. She’d had two glasses of wine in a couple of hours—hardly excessive. ‘I didn’t realise you were such a cheap date.’

      Vic nodded, shutting her eyes. ‘I’ll probably have an almighty headache in the morning.’

      Lawson’s gaze was drawn to the way her lashes grazed her cheeks. ‘I’ll call you a cab to take you home.’

      Her eyes fluttered open. Home? No, she wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Here with Lawson she could just be herself. She wasn’t ready to go back to reality. ‘Do you think it would it be okay to crash here?’

      Lawson hesitated. He wasn’t sure why—it just didn’t feel…appropriate. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t the first time she’d bunked down here. Most times she watched Matilda for him she usually slept the night on his couch. Lawson wavered. He knew it should be cut and dried but for some reason it wasn’t. He became aware of their closeness and consciously sat up straighter.

      Vic frowned at her partner’s continuing silence, searching for another reason to stay. ‘Please, Lawson. The last thing Dad needs on top of a son who nearly bled to death in the kitchen today is an inebriated daughter.’

      ‘You’re hardly inebriated, Victoria.’

      She dismissed his observation with a wave of her hand. ‘I have two teenage brothers, remember? I have to set a good example for them.’

      If anyone knew the extent of Victoria’s sacrifices for her brothers it was Lawson. But even so they occasionally slapped him in the face. Victoria hadn’t had a normal childhood or teenage years. She hadn’t had a chance to rebel or experiment like a lot of teenagers, as he had.

       Which was probably why two glasses of wine on top of three night shifts had gone straight to her head.

      She’d had her hands full helping her dad bring up two babies and run the house. Even when she’d done her paramedic training in Brisbane she’d commuted every day for three years. No wonder she was counting the days down until her life could begin.

      Vic