Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (4 page)

Nearly every day, he’d cursed himself for letting her go. But he’d been young too, only twenty-four himself when they’d met, cocky and self-assured. At the end of the fortnight’s holiday, she’d tentatively asked whether they’d see each other again.
 

She’d lived in Christchurch, over eight hundred miles and a whole island away, and the thought of carrying out a long-distance relationship had filled him with horror. He had no desire to move away from his family, and he couldn’t envisage a way to make it work without costing a fortune and spending hours flying back and forth.

And also, although he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself at the time, his feelings for her had scared him. He’d been extremely fond of her, and he hadn’t liked the way it made him feel. Making sure the woman enjoyed herself in bed was important to him, and the general consensus seemed to be that he was good in bed. But for the first time, lovemaking had involved his emotions, and he’d been aware the fantastic time they’d had together had partly been because he’d felt a greater need than usual to ensure she enjoyed it. But he wasn’t ready for monogamy. He didn’t like the idea of being tied to one person. The very words “settling down” had made him shudder.

So he’d brushed her off, thanked her for a great time, and left her in the airport lounge without looking back.

As soon as he’d boarded the plane, he’d regretted it. He should have asked for her number. All the way back to Auckland, he’d cursed himself for his stupidity. But by then the deed was done.

He’d contacted Canterbury University, where he knew she worked, but although he’d left messages, she hadn’t returned them. Either she’d decided as well that the idea of a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work, or he’d hurt her feelings and she just didn’t want to see him again.

Was that why she’d never contacted him to tell him about Charlie? Had she done it as a punishment for leaving her? His stomach churned uneasily. He’d made a mistake, but did it warrant missing the first two years of his son’s life?

Chapter Four
 

Esther roused when Charlie bounced on the bed. For a brief second, she had no idea where she was, and then she saw Toby standing watching her, hands in the pockets of a white towelling robe.

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry, I fell asleep.” Charlie sat naked in the bed, clean and smelling of men’s shower gel. “Gosh, you’re clean.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Toby said. “It seemed the easiest way.”

She ran her fingers through Charlie’s hair, and he pushed her hand away. It took all her self-control not to yell at Toby and tell him she didn’t want him interfering—didn’t want him anywhere near her son. But instead she nodded. “No, that’s okay. Thanks.” She got up. “I’d better rinse off some of this dust.”

“I’ll look after him while you’re in there, if you like.”

She hesitated for a moment. Normally Charlie would have sat on the floor of the bathroom and played while she showered. But she had no toys to entertain him. Everything had gone. She’d been sensible enough to have contents insurance, but right now, at this moment, they had no clothing, toys, food, indeed no belongings at all. What was she going to do?

Her throat tightened, so she cleared it. It went against the grain, but she was going to have to accept his help. “Okay. Um… Do you have something I could borrow to wear for bed?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He fetched her a T-shirt.

She took it and went into the bathroom. As she shut the door, she could hear them discussing whether Optimus Prime or Bumblebee was the best Transformer.

She showered quickly, trying not to think about anything but removing the grit from her hair and the stains from her arms and face. After she’d dried herself, she put on the T-shirt. The sleeves came down to her elbows, and the bottom just covered her butt. She slipped her panties back on, deciding the first thing she needed to do the next day was buy some new underwear. If she could get the bank to give her some money. If the bank was still there.

When she came out, Toby lay stretched on the bed and Charlie was talking animatedly, explaining how his Bear didn’t like honey but preferred chocolate spread on his toast. “Bear thinks honey’s yuck,” Charlie said.

“I agree. Chocolate spread rules.” Toby pushed himself up as Esther walked in. “Hey. Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s the hip?”

“Sore.”

“Would you like some Nurofen?”

She hesitated. “Yes, please.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited as he found them and brought them over with a glass of water.

“Is there anything you need?” he asked as she took them. “For Charlie, I mean?”

She swallowed the pills and thought. “Do you have any milk?”

“Yes.”

“He normally has a bottle in bed—only the one a day, he drinks from a cup now. But it helps him get to sleep.” Why was she being so defensive? She didn’t have to explain herself to him.

Toby just nodded, though. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“No, it’s…” Too late, he’d gone out, still in his bathrobe.
 

Charlie stood up. “Where’s Toby gone?”

“Not sure, honey. He’ll be back soon.” She climbed onto the bed and slid under the covers.
 

He cuddled up to her with Bear. “Toby’s funny.”

“Is he?” She swallowed as her throat tightened. “Do you like him?”

“Yes. He’s Charlie’s friend.”

“
My
friend,” she corrected. He’d yet to master the pronoun.

“My friend.” His arm tightened around the soft toy. “Toby found Bear.”

“Yes, he did.” She kissed his curls. For that, she was thankful.

In less than a minute, the door opened and Toby reappeared, a bottle in his hand. “The couple two doors down have a baby,” he told her, bringing it over to her. “She was happy to loan us one. She said it’s been sterilised. Is it okay? I can always see if I can find a shop that’s still open and—”

“It’s fine,” she said gently. “Thank you.”

He nodded and met her gaze for a moment. Then he walked out into the kitchen to the fridge. She could just see him at the worktop, filling the bottle with milk. “How long?” he called as he put it in the microwave.

“Oh, thirty seconds? Just to take the chill off.”
 

He pressed the buttons, flexing his arms and arching his back as he waited.
 

After all that physical work, he must ache, she thought. All those people he’d rescued. She’d told him he wasn’t brave—that he was being an idiot. The memory of the words made her cringe. He’d spent hours rescuing those trapped in the rubble and clearing the way to make it easier for the emergency services to move around. He’d found Bear, and then he’d offered them his home. She still wasn’t sure how he felt toward her, but clearly he wasn’t going to turn his back on them.

He waited until the milk was done and brought it over. She handed it to Charlie, who examined it thoughtfully. “Not Charlie’s,” he stated.

“It’s all we’ve got,” she told him. “You remember what our apartment looked like? I can’t get the old one, sweetie.”

He stared up at her with his big brown eyes for a moment. Then he stuck the teat in his mouth. He sucked a few times, obviously found it acceptable and curled up next to her, propping the bottle on Bear. She yawned. It was only about seven o’clock, but her eyelids were already drooping.

“You want anything to eat?” Toby asked.

“Nah. Too tired.”

“Okay. I’ll take the couch.” He smiled at them. “Sleep well.”

“Wait… Toby…” She sighed, filled with guilt. “Look, it’s a big bed and you can’t sleep on the sofa after all the hard work you’ve done today. Come on. There’s plenty of room.”

He hesitated. Charlie looked up at him as he sucked, his eyes wide. Toby frowned. “Are you sure?”

“It’s been a crazy day. And I’m far too tired to care.”

His lips twisted. “Yeah. Okay. I wonder if the phone’s working yet? I’d better call my parents again.” He found his mobile and dialled. “It’s ringing,” he announced and walked into the kitchen.

Esther helped prop up Charlie’s bottle, finding it strangely comforting to watch the milk level slowly fall. She could just hear Toby talking on the phone, reassuring his parents he was in one piece, asking them to inform the rest of his family and friends. Would he tell them about her and Charlie? She listened carefully, but he didn’t mention them, talking instead about how it had felt to be in the middle of an earthquake, and the state of the city.

Sadness swept over her. There was nobody for her to call. Her parents were dead. She was an only child, and although she had other more distant relatives, she couldn’t imagine they’d given her a second thought. Maybe there were people at the university who wondered if she was okay, but she couldn’t imagine them lying awake worrying about her. Nobody cared whether she lived or died.

She bit her lip as emotion welled inside her. Wasn’t this how she’d wanted it? She’d kept her distance, isolated herself on purpose, wanting it to be just her and Charlie. Life had shown her she couldn’t rely on anyone, and she’d been determined to prove she could cope on her own. She wiped her tears away. This was good—she didn’t have to answer to a single soul. Her life was her own—she had Charlie, and that was all that mattered.

She tried not to think how close she’d come to losing him. If it hadn’t been for Toby… Briefly, she pictured the way he’d broken the strap in the trolley as if it were made of paper. He’d thrown himself on top of them under the table without a thought for his own safety. She wanted to resent him for not thinking she could take care of her son herself, but lying there, eyes drooping, she could only remember his strong arms around her, and the way he’d protected Charlie’s mouth with his big hand.

Toby came back in then, flipping his phone shut.

“Everything okay?” she asked sleepily.

“Yeah. Mum had me buried at the bottom of a pile of rubble. Funny how mums always think the worst.”

She could understand that. “True.”

“Apparently there are over a hundred missing people so far. And the cathedral’s damaged—half of it has gone.”

“Oh no.” Her heart sank. That poor, beautiful building.

“And the Canterbury Television Building collapsed and caught fire.”

“Jeez.”

“The earthquake was a 6.3.”

“That’s smaller than the September one,” she recalled. That one had awoken her but hadn’t caused damage in the area.

“Yeah—I guess this one was closer to the town centre.” He held the phone out to her. “Do you want to call anyone?”

She shook her head.

“Come on.” He waggled the phone at her. “There must be someone who’s wondering how you are.”

She shook her head again, her throat tightening, and looked down at Charlie, lifting the bottle so he could get the last few ounces of milk. Toby said nothing, and after a moment placed the phone on the bedside table.

She looked back up as he went over to the chest of drawers and extracted a pair of boxers. He pulled them on, facing away from them. Then he untied the robe and let it fall. She’d meant to look away but her gaze was drawn to his body as he climbed underneath the covers. He was even more magnificent than he had been three years ago, and he hadn’t been bad then. But he’d filled out, his limbs muscular and toned, his chest broad and the muscles well defined.
 

It had been a long time since she’d looked at a man with anything approaching desire—three years in fact, and the surge of lust that swept through her took her breath away. She concentrated on holding Charlie’s bottle, waiting for her racing heart to slow down. The last thing she wanted was to rekindle any feelings she might have had for Toby Wilkinson.

Charlie popped the bottle out of his mouth. “Are you sleeping here?” he asked Toby.

“Yes. This is my bed.”

“We’re in your bed?” Charlie queried.

“Yep. I hope you don’t snore.”

Charlie giggled. “Mummy does.”

“I do not,” she protested.

“Yes, you do.” A hint of amusement glimmered in Toby’s eyes. “Very delicately.”

Her cheeks warmed, and his lips curved even more.

“Will you be my friend?” Charlie asked him.

“Of course. We’re best buds.” Toby ruffled his hair.

Esther caught her breath. Charlie had never asked why some of the kids in the daycare centre had daddies but he didn’t, so she’d never discussed his absent father. She wished things had been different, and that she didn’t have to tell him. But it wasn’t fair, with Toby lying next to them in the bed.

She stroked his cheek. “Charlie?” He looked up at her as he continued to suck at the bottle. “You know Robert, at daycare?” He nodded. “You know how sometimes his mummy comes and picks him up, and sometimes his daddy does?” He nodded again. She could feel Toby’s gaze on her, but she kept her eyes on her son. “You’ve never asked me where your daddy was,” she said softly.

He pulled the bottle out. “I haven’t got one.”

“Yes, you have.” She reached out and rested a hand on Toby’s arm. “Toby’s your daddy.”