The Nurse's Twin Surprise. Sue MacKay

his gut.

      Could be hunger for food doing a number on him. Not Molly. He’d missed snack breaks throughout the night—always a bad thing. But nothing was dispelling that softening sensation in his belly as he watched her. Without even trying, she was doing a number on him. Bet he was the last person she wanted to spend time with, even if only over coffee. Was it time for a change? On both their parts? Could be it was time for him to step outside his secure bubble and poke at life, see where it took him.

      As long as it wasn’t more than he was prepared to give. More than he was able to give. He’d given his heart to Rosie, and she’d taken it to the grave with her. Or so he’d believed, until—until now and the thin ray of hope beginning to pierce his long-held belief that he couldn’t be that lucky.

      He and Rosie had been childhood sweethearts and so in love it had been unreal at times. Except reality had got in the way of their plans for a house and babies in the form of leukaemia. From the first day Rosie had complained of lethargy and swollen, sore glands they had been on a one-way road to hell. It had been a short trip, lasting little more than three months. He’d been glad for her sake it was over quickly, but for himself he’d only wanted her never to leave him, taking his dreams away for ever.

      The disease that had taken Rosie’s life had a lot to answer for. He used to picture them together, raising their kids, having a great life. The past four years had been long, and lonely in a way he wouldn’t have believed before she’d died.

      ‘Nathan?’

      He pulled out of his reverie to find Vicki watching him with amusement forming crinkles at the corners of her eyes. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Lead on. We’re all good to go.’ Her wink was slow, and downright mischievous, reminding him how she and Cole thought it was time he came out of his cave. Grabbing his elbow, Vicki strode ahead of the group, tugging him along with her.

      ‘I’m hangry,’ he warned around a smile. His friends cared about him so he let them off their interfering ways.

      Vicki only laughed. ‘I heard you giving Molly a bit of a roasting this morning about the winter party. One she didn’t deserve, by the way.’

      ‘Someone had to tell her to get over staying on the fringe around us.’

      Vicki jabbed him with an elbow. ‘Others have told you they’ll be there and not signed the list. Who needs a list anyway?’

      ‘I do.’ He huffed a breath. ‘Why did she do that pen-snatching thing and scrawl her name across the page large enough to suggest I might be blind?’

      ‘To rile you? It worked, by the way.’

      I know that. Damn her. ‘Right.’ A spurt of resentment soured his mouth. He swallowed it away, and managed to laugh at himself. So Miss Mousy had got one over him. Game on, Molly O’Keefe.

      Vicki hadn’t finished. ‘I’m glad you nudged her about joining in. It’s good for her.’ Another jab from that blasted elbow. ‘She needs to get out more.’

      Nathan stared at his friend. ‘Since when has she talked about anything that’s not to do with patients?’ He’d never heard Molly say something as simple as she’d been to the hair salon. And, yes, he knew when she went because those short, red curls would be quiet, in place, for a few days before returning to their riot of crazy colour. He preferred the wild to the tamed.

      A tingling itch sometimes crept over his palms as he wondered about pushing his fingers through her hair. Then he’d remember he didn’t have a heart any more and would go and see a patient. See? Early on she had disturbed him in ways only Rosie had ever done, yet they were opposites. Rosie had mostly been calm, with little that would upset her. On the other hand, Miss Quiet and Mousy, red head contrasting with her temperament and all, managed to upset his orderly existence without even trying, especially when he was overtired or pressured by a particularly ill child. As of now he was going to delete mousy from the nickname.

      Vicki tapped him none too gently on the shoulder to bring his attention back to her. ‘Molly lives in an apartment on the third floor of a block in Bondi Junction, takes the train to work, has a regular car that doesn’t stand out at the lights, and likes to watch comedy shows on TV. Oh, and she has lots of amazing clothes that suggest a previous life that wasn’t so lean.’

      ‘You two are close.’

      ‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.’ Vicki grinned. ‘But you’re forgiven since you’re in need of food.’

      Nathan shook his head. He’d learned more in two minutes than he had in the past weeks. More than Molly being a superb nurse with a special way with the younger patients that came their way so they all fell in love with her, even when she was cleaning a wound that stung or sliding a needle into their arm. He could also admit to seeing her wearing stunning—and expensive—figure-enhancing outfits when she strode onto the ward heading for the staff changing room at the beginning of her shifts. Not that her figure needed enhancing; it did a damned good job of filling out her uniform and her day clothes all by itself.

      Bondi Junction, eh? And here he’d been thinking she probably lived in one of the upmarket suburbs near or on Sydney Harbour’s waterfront.

      Expensive clothes, average address. Once had money, now getting by? Throw in not mixing with people, the loneliness that sometimes blitzed her eyes, and he had to wonder if she’d been let down big-time. That protective instinct raised its head again. Guess he’d never know what was behind Molly’s attitude since she wasn’t likely to spill her guts over breakfast. Especially not to him. ‘Let’s hope she enjoys herself.’

      ‘We’ll do our best to make sure she does.’ Another wink came his way.

      ‘Stop that. Whatever that wicked mind of yours is coming up with, it’s not happening. You have a birthday to focus on, not someone else’s problems.’ Suddenly Nathan was more than pleased Molly was here. He understood loneliness, knew how it could drag a person down deep. After Rosie had died he’d holed up in their home, only coming out to attend lectures or work a shift at the hospital, doing what was required to qualify—no more, no less. None of his friends or family had been able to prise him out into the real world to become involved with people and life other than what was required for patients and qualifying as an emergency specialist.

      To get past the pain of losing Rosie he’d focused entirely on those things and it had worked for the first couple of years. Then he’d begun to understand he wasn’t any use to the people who needed his medical skills if he didn’t get out and about, and that he owed the people he loved for sticking around.

      ‘We’re having champagne this morning.’ Vicki laughed.

      ‘Already sorted,’ he agreed, his mood lightening further in anticipation of spending time with this group of chatterboxes.

      And Molly. No, forget that. She wouldn’t start yabbering on to him. Maybe by the end of breakfast they’d be a little further ahead in knowing each other, but that was all. Bet she’d still have his hands tingling and his gut tightening, though. ‘Shows we’re in need of a life when this is as exciting as it gets.’

      Nathan hated admitting it, but he’d been looking forward to breakfast. His heart felt lighter, and the blood seemed to move faster in his veins. Molly had nothing to do with the happy sensations in his chest, or the sudden urge to be on his best, most charming behaviour. That needed a bit of practice anyway, and she’d see straight through him and ignore his attempts.

       CHAPTER TWO

      AS THE GROUP approached the café entrance, Molly smoothed down her trousers and jacket, hauled her shoulders back so that she looked and felt confident, before following everyone inside to the reserved table where Nathan was pulling out a chair on the far side.

      Why did she seek him out? Because his mood had improved? Out of doctor mode