Feisty Firefighters Bundle

Jason grinned. ‘I know how you feel. She’s a bit of a pain when she won’t go to sleep, isn’t she?’

‘Right.’ Laura’s lips compressed into a grim line. ‘That’s it. I’ve had enough.’

Megan landed on Jason’s lap with enough speed to provoke an outraged wail. While a reprimand was undeniably justified, Jason was alarmed to see Laura heading for the back door of the house.

‘Where are you going?”

‘Out.’

‘When will you be back?’ Jason was sorry he’d taken her assistance for granted now. Really sorry. The faint note of panic in his tone was quite genuine and he could feel himself go a shade paler when the only response he received from Laura was the slamming of the back door.

He’d done it now. He was up the creek without a paddle and he knew quite well he deserved it. Laura had turned her life upside down for the last week in order to help him and she’d done it with remarkably good humour and competence. She’d had a much busier day than he’d had today and yet he’d been enough of a bastard to expect her to keep going. Jason groaned. If he’d wanted to find a way of ensuring Laura didn’t want him for a friend, let alone anything more, he’d found it without any effort at all.

He’d just have to make up for it somehow. Find something nice to do that would let Laura know how much he appreciated her. But what? Jason’s idea of looking after a woman generally involved some quality physical contact, and that wasn’t an option with Laura.

Or was it?

Unbidden, the image of seeing Laura feeding Megan last night surfaced. The full, soft-looking outline of her breast had been made startlingly obvious by the movements of that tiny hand. Jason had never seen Laura without her spectacles on before either, and when she’d looked up at him he had been struck by eyes that had reminded him of melted chocolate. Recognising that Laura was actually a rather attractive woman had been a shock. Like that time his kid sister had brought her first boyfriend home.

But him and Laura? No way. She was so far removed from what he considered to be his type it was inconceivable. Not that she wouldn’t make someone a fantastic wife and mother, but it was precisely those qualities that put her into a friendship rather than relationship category. She was fun to have around. They could have a laugh, the way they did at work. Laura was one of the boys. Hell, she even liked beer! And when life wasn’t so much fun Laura was prepared to help and he knew by now that he could trust her not to jump ship when the going got tough.

At least, he had up until he’d pushed her to breaking point. He didn’t deserve a mate like Laura and he wouldn’t have her around much longer unless he found some way to apologise. Trying to come up with an idea was enough of a challenge to distract Jason throughout an entire nappy change so that it was no more than a vaguely unpleasant duty.

‘I’ve got it!’ he told Megan as he pushed her feet into the leg holes of a clean stretchsuit. ‘Mummy’s tired. And what do women like to do most when they’re tired?’

He needed three goes on some of those pesky, undersized stud buttons. ‘I’ve seen the ads,’ he explained. ‘They like a soak in a hot bath, with candles and nice smelly stuff and a glass of wine.’

The plan was excellent. Brilliant, even if he did say so himself, but it was a little harder to execute than he’d anticipated. The triumph of finding a single, well-used decorative candle in the depths of a kitchen cupboard was dimmed by the unavailability of any perfume or bubble bath.

‘A bit of dishwashing liquid would make some bubbles, wouldn’t it?’ He conferred with the baby he was carrying on one arm. ‘But what smells nice?’

Another one-handed fossick in the cupboards began, and Megan started to feel heavy. Jason briefly considered trying out that front pack contraption Laura had persuaded him to purchase on that expensive visit to Baby Warehouse but he dismissed the thought. There was something disturbingly permanent about attaching a baby to your body like that. Holding her tucked casually into the crook of one arm was a kind of insurance policy. She could be put down or passed on to someone else with no effort required at all. The way she was handed around at the station was becoming part of the routine. One of the guys was always hovering somewhere nearby, waiting for a turn and pretending not to be. Wouldn’t work at all if they had to deal with buckles and straps, and it would look ridiculous. Who wanted to look like a kangaroo with a pouch in dire need of mending?

At least this search was satisfyingly brief.

‘There you go,’ he told his daughter. ‘Perseverance pays off, kid. Cinnamon. And vanilla. They both smell nice.’ He eyed the tin of formula on the kitchen bench but Megan seemed happy enough for the moment to be ferried back and forth by a man on a mission.

‘Dammit,’ Jason exclaimed a short time later. ‘We’ve got a wineglass but no wine. Do you think juice might do instead?’ Changing arms to ease the ache of tired muscles, Jason’s eye caught the tin of formula again. ‘I’d better feed you in a minute, Peanut, hadn’t I?’ Big, blue eyes stared up at him. ‘Laura won’t enjoy her soak if she has to listen to you whingeing because I haven’t fed you.’

Megan wasn’t whingeing right now. She appeared to be listening intently to the deep, soft voice that had become much more familiar over the last hour. Her gaze was still fastened on Jason’s and he braced himself as her face crinkled and her lips moved. But no cry emerged from that rosebud mouth. The facial contortion continued and suddenly, totally unexpectedly, Jason found that the tiny person he was holding was smiling at him.

It was Megan’s first smile and it was for him.

She liked him.

A warm glow started somewhere deep within Jason and then grew and grew until it felt like something was about to burst. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life.

Dammit! Why wasn’t Laura here to see this? Megan was smiling. The corners of her lips curled up even more and her lips parted to make her look as though she was silently and joyously laughing. Jason felt so ridiculously pleased and proud that he didn’t give a damn that his eyes were prickling. He wanted to cry. Or laugh. Or shout out the news. Instead, he did something that seemed far more appropriate.

He smiled back.

Laura walked swiftly, pushing herself despite the physical weariness that made her bones feel like lead. Her spiritual weariness was far more of a concern. This was never going to work. OK, she’d established a friendship with Jason. She’d seen evidence that he could find her attractive. She might even succeed in winning herself a place in his life, but where would that leave her? Precisely where she would have ended up with John, that’s where. Making all the effort and putting up with all the crap because she wanted the relationship to work so much more than he did.

Jason might only be having a beer and watching television because he felt like it now, but it would only be a matter of time before he was off to the pub with his mates or having an affair, like John, because that took his fancy, and if Laura wanted to keep him around she’d just have to deal with it.

Escaping the empty shell that her relationship with John had become had led to a vow that she would never again become involved with anyone who didn’t love her as much as she loved them. Yet here she was, trying to set herself up with an even more heartbreaking arrangement. Jason wouldn’t just expect his dinner on the table or a bit of company on the odd night he chose to stay at home. He’d want his child raised as well. A child who was rapidly claiming a large portion of the love Laura was only too ready to bestow.

Why can’t love be more equally distributed? Laura directed the silent question to the postbox at the end of Crighton Terrace as she finally neared the end of her long walk. She picked up her pace a little until she got past the empty and semi-derelict two-storied house on the corner. All that Laura wanted was to receive the same kind of love she was so capable of giving. Was that too much to ask?

Too much to ask of Jason Halliday, she decided bitterly as she opened the back door of his house. His idea of love was probably giving a girl a good time in bed. He didn’t have a committed bone in his body when it came to women, and he probably didn’t need to. With his looks and personality he wouldn’t face any problem finding someone prepared to do the running to make things work when he finally decided to settle down.

But it wouldn’t be her. No way. She wouldn’t marry Jason if he-

Her passage into the living room was abruptly halted by what she saw in front of her. Jason lay flat on his back on the couch. One arm and one leg were draped over the side and an almost empty baby’s bottle rested on the floor close to the dangling hand. He was deeply asleep, his lips slightly parted, his hair tousled and his features softened enough to make him look years younger. Vulnerable, almost.

Megan lay sprawled on top of her father, stomach to stomach, and she was also soundly asleep. There was no