So why did he feel like the biggest bastard in the universe?
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. And, because the emotional stuff was getting too much for him and he needed to escape, he added, ‘I’d better go and get Truffle.’
Georgie stayed curled in bed until she heard the front door close.
Ryan McGregor was strong, silent, stubborn—and oh, so stupid.
Why did he have to be so difficult about this?
Why couldn’t he take that leap of faith and just try to see where things went between them?
It seemed that friendship was the most he was going to offer. Take it or leave it.
He’d been honest with her, unlike Charlie. Ryan hadn’t lied to her, and she knew he would never cheat. But she was also pretty sure he wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t going to give them a chance. And that hurt so, so much.
What was so wrong with her that he didn’t feel comfortable taking a risk with her? Was she right about there being something lacking in her—the same thing Charlie had obviously picked up on when he’d turned to Trisha?
And how were they going to deal with the rest of the job swap?
He’d asked her to stay. But not because he wanted her: because, she thought, he felt guilty about letting Clara down.
Perhaps she’d been right in the first place to think about finding somewhere else to stay. Though asking someone at the hospital where she could find somewhere else to live—that would make it obvious there were problems between herself and Ryan. And everyone would jump to conclusions and gossip, and once the truth was out everyone would start to pity her—the very thing she’d tried so hard to avoid in London.
What an idiot she’d been.
She should’ve said no last night. Gone to bed on her own, instead of giving in to the temptation to make love with him. It would still have been awkward between them for a while, but at least the situation would’ve been salvageable. Whereas now she knew what it felt like to make love with him and fall asleep in his arms. She’d lied to herself that it was just for comfort, just for fun, that her heart wasn’t involved.
But her heart was involved. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with the dour Scot who was great with his colleagues and his patients, but who kept a huge barrier between himself and the rest of the world because he was too scared to let himself get close to someone again and be let down. A man who trusted his dog and his best friend, and steadfastly refused to open his heart to anyone else.
If she’d been enough for him, then he would’ve taken the risk and let down his barriers.
But she wasn’t.
She hadn’t been enough for Charlie—the man she’d married but who’d made a baby with someone else, instead of her—and she wasn’t enough for Ryan.
And the rest of the job swap was going to be the same nightmare she’d tried to leave behind in London: where she’d be lying to everyone, saying that everything was absolutely fine, when in reality her heart was a wreck.
She’d get through it. There was no other choice.
But she was never, ever going to let herself fall for anyone again.
CHAPTER NINE
RYAN AND GEORGIE spent the next few days being super-polite to each other, careful to keep the topic of conversations to work and Truffle. At work, it was easy to focus on their patients and their colleagues, deflecting conversation away from their feelings, but at the cottage it was more and more awkward. Apart from sharing meals and chores, Georgie spent most of her time at the cottage curled on her bed with a book.
And it was horrible.
She missed the old easiness between them. She missed cuddling up on the sofa with Truffle. She missed the way Ryan teased her about trying everything Scottish.
It was starting to be a struggle at work, too, and she was terrified that one of their colleagues would notice that things were strained between them. She was just glad that the situation with Truffle meant they’d already moved their shifts round so they were on opposites for as much as possible.
But she was glad of Ryan’s arrival when she called for the crash team on the day when she was on an early and he was on a late.
She was performing chest compressions on a ten-month-old who’d stopped breathing in the middle of tests, pushing down on the little girl’s breastbone with the tips of two fingers, then giving two breaths after fifteen compressions, her mouth sealing the infant’s nose and mouth.
He grabbed a mask and bag. ‘I’ll compress, you bag,’ he said.
After a minute, he asked, ‘Any cough or gag response?’
‘No.’
‘OK.’ He checked the brachial pulse. ‘Nothing. We’ll keep going.’
It took them another ten minutes of chest compressions and breathing via the mask and bag, but finally the little girl responded.
‘Let’s get her on a ventilator,’ Ryan said. ‘And then we’ll talk to her parents. Run me through the case.’
‘Mollie’s ten months old. She had an unsettled night, and her mum took her to the family doctor, who said it was just mucus. Then she got hiccups and was struggling to breathe, and the doctor told her mum to bring her here. I’d put her on oxygen, inserted a cannula and taken a blood test, but then she crashed on me. The rest of it you know.’
‘OK. You did all the right things,’ he said.
Once Mollie was on the ventilator, Georgie introduced Ryan to Mollie’s mum.
‘What’s happening?’ Mollie’s mum bit her lip. ‘Today’s been a nightmare. Mollie had that shocking cold and the doctor said it was just mucus, but then she started hiccupping and she couldn’t get her breath. I called the doctor...’ She shuddered. ‘Thank God my neighbour was home and could drive me here with her. And then the nurse asked me to come out of the room. Is Mollie going to—going to—?’
