Fairytale With The Single Dad. Alison Roberts

you.’ He smiled. ‘As a friend.’

      It could never be anything else. Despite the fact that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Despite the fact that he could see her pulse hammering away in her throat. That her skin looked so creamy and soft. That he wanted to lift that stray strand of hair from her face and…

      ‘I—’

      ‘No pressure. Not a date. Just…coffee.’

      He realised he was rambling, but he was confused. She confused him. Made him feel like he was tripping over his own words even though he wasn’t. Made him surprised at what came out of his own mouth.

      He’d not reached out to a woman like this since Gwyneth had left. He’d tried to become accustomed to the fact that he would spend the rest of his life alone. That he would not parade a stream of women past Anna. That he would not endanger his heart once again because on the one occasion he had given it to a woman she had ripped it apart.

      The only female who would have his undying love was his daughter.

      Which was as it should be.

      Anna didn’t need the huge change that a woman in their lives would bring. He was lucky that Gwyneth had left before Anna knew who she was or formed a bond.

      But he missed being able just to sit with a woman and chat about everyday things. He missed asking about another person’s day. He missed having adult company that didn’t involve talks about unusual rashes, or a cough that wouldn’t go away, or could you just take a look at my boil? And he imagined that Sydney would be interesting. Would have intelligent things to say and be the complete opposite of his ex-fiancée.

      That was all he wanted.

      All he told himself he wanted.

      He waited for her to answer. Knowing she would turn him down, knowing it would hurt for some reason, but knowing that he’d had to ask because… Well, because he’d said something stupid to her the other day and he needed to apologise in the only way he knew how.

      He waited.

      Just a coffee?

      Was there really such a thing as ‘just a coffee’ when a guy asked you out?

      Because that was what he was doing. Asking her out. Like on a date. Right? And though he said there was no pressure, there was always pressure. Wasn’t there?

      Besides, why would she want to meet him for a drink? For a chat? This was the man who had got her so riled up yesterday, what with his probing questions and his damned twinkling eyes.

      Did he not know how attractive he was? Because he seemed oblivious to it. Either that or he was a great actor. With great hair, and an irresistible charm about him, and the way he was looking at her right now… It was doing unbelievable things to her insides. Churning her up, making her stomach seem all giddy, causing her heart to thump and her mouth to go dry. She hadn’t felt this way since her schoolgirl crush had asked her to the local disco. And her hands were trembling. Trembling!

      Why had he asked her out? Why did he want to go for coffee? She had nothing to talk to him about. She didn’t know this guy. Except that he was a hot doctor with effortlessly cool hair and eyes that melted her insides every time he smiled at her. Oh, and that he had a daughter. A beautiful little girl who seemed very lovely indeed, but who made her feel uncomfortable because she reminded her too much of Olivia.

      If he wanted to apologise to her then why didn’t he just do it? It wouldn’t take a moment. No need for them to go to a coffee shop. He could say it here. Now. Then she could thank him, and then he could go, and it would all be over.

      Why would she get any kind of involved with this man? He was dangerous in so many ways. Intelligent, good-looking, attractive. Not to mention his adorable daughter… She pushed the thought away. No.

      She wanted to say, We have nothing to talk about. She wanted to say, But there’s no point. She wanted to yell, You’re so perfect you look airbrushed. And I can’t have coffee with you because you make me feel things that I don’t want to feel and think of things I sure as hell don’t want to think about!

      But she said none of those things. Instead she found herself mumbling, ‘That’d be great.’ Her voice almost gave out on that last word. Squeaking out of her closed throat so tightly she wondered if only dogs would have been able to hear it.

      Oh, no, did I just agree to meet him?

      The goofy smile he gave her in return made her temperature rise by a significant amount of degrees, and when he said goodbye and left the room she had to stand for a minute and fan her face with a piece of paper. She berated herself inwardly for having accepted. She would have to turn him down. Maybe call the surgery and leave a message for him.

      This was a mistake.

      A big mistake.

      Nathan waited for his computer system to load up, and whilst he did he sat in his chair, staring into space and wondering just what the hell he had done.

      Sydney Harper had said yes to his coffee invitation.

      Yes!

      It was unbelievable. There must have been some spike, some surge in the impulse centre of his brain that had caused his mind to short circuit or something. His leg muscles would sometimes spasm and kick out suddenly—the same must have happened with his head. And his mouth.

      He had no doubt that they would get on okay. She would show up—a little late, maybe—pretend that she couldn’t stay for long, have some excuse to leave sooner than she’d expected. Maybe even get a friend to call her away on an invented emergency. But…they’d get on okay. He’d apologise right away for what he’d said. Be polite as could be.

      Surely it was a good thing to try and make friends when you moved to a new area? That was all he was doing.

      And how many guys have you invited for coffee?

      The only people he really knew in Silverdale were Dr Preston, some of the staff at the medical centre and his daughter’s teacher at school, and they were more colleagues than actual friends. He’d left all his old friends behind when he’d moved from the city to this remote village. They kept in touch online. With the odd phone call and promises to meet up.

      Sydney could be a new friend. A female friend. That was possible. How could it not be in today’s modern age? And once he got past her prickly demeanour, made her realise he was sorry and showed her that he was no threat to her romantically, then they could both relax and they would get on like a house on fire.

      He had no doubt of that.

      So why, when he thought of spending time with Sydney, did he picture them kissing? Think of himself reaching for her hand across the table and lifting it to his lips while he stared deeply into her eyes. Inhaling the scent of her perfume upon her wrist…

      And why did that vision remind him of Gwyneth’s twisted face and her harsh words?

      ‘I can’t be with you! Why would anyone want to be with you? You’re broken. Faulty. The only thing you can offer is a lifetime of pain and despair and I didn’t sign up for that!’

      Determined not to be haunted by his ex-fiancée’s words, he angrily punched the keys on his keyboard, brought up his files and called in his first patient of the day.

      Sam Carter was a thirty-two-year-old man who had just received a diagnosis of Huntington’s Disease. His own father had died from it quite young, in his fifties, and the diagnosis had been a terrible shock to the whole family after Sam had decided to have genetic testing. Now he sat in front of Nathan, looking pale and washed out.

      ‘What can I do for you, Sam?’

      His patient