Название | Mending The Single Dad's Heart |
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Автор произведения | Susanne Hampton |
Жанр | Эротическая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon Medical |
Издательство | Эротическая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474089920 |
With the custody papers in hand and the signed divorce papers on their way to him in the coming days, he would soon be officially a free man. It was as if a burden he had carried for so very long had disappeared overnight. Nothing could make him happier than the knowledge that now he could move on without the possibility of one day losing his son in a custody battle. No threat of his son living across two continents. No arranging proposed maternal visits that never eventuated. No more explaining to the five-year-old boy why his mother promised to visit and never did. He could finally look into his son’s innocent blue eyes and know Armidale would be their forever home. And Harrison Wainwright was determined to be the best single dad possible.
He pushed away the surge of anger that threatened to ruin his victory. He had what he wanted and he had to let the hurt and broken promises go. He was determined to release the sadness and disappointment that had consumed his waking moments for years. But Harrison was a realist and he knew it would take time.
Being in a relationship would never again be an option for him. From that day forward, it would just be Harrison and Bryce. There was no need and no room to invite anyone else in their lives. His house and his heart were full.
And he would never risk his son being hurt again.
‘EXCUSE ME, MISS. Can I help you?’
Jessica was so preoccupied she didn’t hear the male voice behind her. The empty luggage carousel mirrored her life more than she cared to acknowledge. The fact there was nothing to see consumed her attention. The sound of the aircraft engine starting finally forced her to glance over to the thirty-six-seat plane taxiing down the runway in preparation for take-off into the stormy early evening sky. Her missing bags meant she would not be sleeping in her favourite pyjamas that night. And that was assuming she was able to collect the keys to her rental property and actually had a bed for the night.
It was all a little overwhelming and she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do. That had been a regular state of mind for a while and completely out of character from the old Jessica. She had always known what to do, even as a teenager. Forget having a social life, she had her head in her textbooks, even on weekends. She’d excelled at school every year until the final year. Then she’d graduated top of the class with perfect end-of-year examination results that saw her in the top twenty students across the entire state of South Australia, which meant her higher education study preference of a medical degree was guaranteed along with being presented to the Premier at Government House. Straight out of school, Jessica Ayers had been on her trajectory to becoming Dr Jessica Ayers, Paediatric Consultant. She’d considered specialising in paediatric surgery and did head down that path and gained the skills but, after a year of surgical study, she’d decided that it was the interaction with children offered by the Consultant’s position that made her the happiest.
Over the years there had been few boyfriends to distract her. No jam-packed social calendar to compete with her study schedule. Nothing to prevent her from achieving her lifetime goal. Including her vision, from her very first day in medical school, of one day being Head of Paediatrics at a large teaching hospital. Jessica Ayers had been an unashamed planner.
But there were some things in life she couldn’t plan. Some things had just occurred without any decision-making by Jessica. Some of them were very sad, such as losing her father while she was still in high school so he never saw her graduate from medical school, and then losing her mother when she was thirty. At least she was grateful that neither had witnessed her fall from grace in dating a married man.
Now she was flying by the seat of her pants in regard to everything and anything...and she wasn’t very good at it.
‘Miss, I asked if I can help you.’
Jessica turned her attention to the uniformed older man standing behind her; his bomber-style jacket was emblazoned with the Armidale Airport logo.
‘My name is Garry; I’m with the airport. I’m assuming you’re still waiting here because your bag, or bags, didn’t arrive?’
She feared her distracted state might have given the appearance of being dismissive. She felt sure she was on a roll in managing to offend her adopted new town’s population one person at a time. Damaging one man’s foot and being plain rude to another.
‘Bags—there’s two of them—and I’m sorry, Garry, I didn’t mean to be impolite.’
‘Think nothing of it. You seem a little frazzled. Have you been on a long haul flight and then a connection to get you here? A handful of our passengers came in today from Los Angeles. The Armidale Romance Writers group attended a conference in the US and four of them just came back. My sister-in-law is one of them, that’s why I know, and one of our doctors was over in America as well, not that he attended the romance conference,’ he said with a wry smile. He added, ‘It’s a country airport, what can I say, there’s not much gossip that gets past the ground staff here.’
‘Well, I haven’t flown too far at all. I’ve just done fifty minutes from Sydney so I definitely can’t blame my poor manners or distracted state on jet lag...’
‘You might not have done a long-haul trip but missing bags is a stress all of its own, so let’s see if I can help.’
Jessica wondered for a moment if she had entered some parallel universe. Was this town in country New South Wales the friendliest place on earth? This man was being so kind and helpful, just as the man, whose face was still etched on her mind, had been so gallant about her clumsiness. Immediately, she pushed away the image she still had of the first man, the one she’d run over, but she knew it was more than his appearance that was lingering. There was something about him that was not easy to forget, for some strange reason. But she had to do just that. She had to find her bags and get to her accommodation or face being homeless.
‘It’s been a long day and I have to get to the realtor by five-thirty to get the keys to my rental property...and I have nothing except these,’ she told him tilting her head in the direction of her carry-on and her handbag that she was holding up.
‘I must apologise that the rest of your bags didn’t arrive. It doesn’t happen too often, I must say, but that doesn’t help you. If I can have your name I’ll start the process to find them.’
‘Dr Jessica Ayers,’ she replied.
‘Nice to meet you, Dr Ayers,’ he said as he reached for the extended handle of her carry-on bag.
‘Please call me Jessica.’
‘Certainly, Jessica. Let’s get you over to check-in,’ he said, pointing to the other side of the terminal. He added, ‘I can get some more details and chase the bags up for you. If you can give me the baggage receipt that was issued with your boarding pass, I’ll call through to Sydney and make sure that your bags are sent here on the next flight, which is at eleven-thirty—’
‘That’s late but at least there’s another flight coming in tonight,’ Jessica cut in with a faint strand of renewed hope colouring her voice. Excitedly she handed over the documents he requested and then followed him from the departure and arrival lounges and in the direction of the main entrance.
The man’s brow wrinkled as he shook his head from side to side and with it swept away Jessica’s hope of a swift solution.
‘Unfortunately, your flight was the final one from Sydney today. There next one arrives at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning and I can have your bags couriered to your home,’ he said as he maintained a fast pace. He was a man on a mission and that gave Jessica some small level of comfort as she kept up with him.
‘My home? I have no idea if I’ll have one. I think my deadline to pick up the keys from the realtor is just about to pass.’
He raised his wrist and glanced at his watch as they reached the check-in counter. ‘It’s