LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘Let’s say Saturday evening of next week, then? At our place. Pen and I will barbecue. It might be a good chance for Brady to mingle socially as well.’

      * * *

      With her usual care, Jo worked through her patient list after lunch. But as three o’clock approached, she found her heart was all but leapfrogging in her chest.

      She was being ridiculous, she berated herself, especially when she recalled that after she’d read Brady’s CV, she’d actually considered calling him on his mobile number and sorting out the fact they’d already met.

      And then she’d reminded herself that they were to be colleagues, nothing more, and there was no reason for her to get out there and personal about the man.

      Yet, minutes later, when Vicki tapped on her door, popped her head in and said, ‘Dr McNeal’s here,’ Jo sprang to her feet as if a fire-cracker had gone off in her consulting room.

      ‘He apologises for being a bit early,’ Vicki said. ‘And guess what?’ The receptionist’s voice rose to an excited squeak.

      Jo blinked. ‘What?’

      ‘He’s got his baby with him!’

      A baby. A baby! Brady McNeal had a baby, when all the time she’d thought of his son in terms of kindergarten age, a little boy of three or four. But a baby.

      ‘Come on.’ Vicki was beckoning enthusiastically. ‘He’s adorable.’

      Almost dazedly, Jo followed Vicki along the corridor to Reception, only to find Marika and Monica and even several of the female patients from the waiting room gathered in a fluttering little huddle to admire baby McNeal, who was gazing up, wide-eyed, from his carry-capsule.

      Oh, lord. Jo swallowed. They’d all gone mad. She felt like clapping her hands like the nuns from her school days to restore some order to the surgery.

      But she didn’t. Instead, she found a tiny gap in the circle and looked down at the baby boy.

      And fell instantly in love.

      Oh, my…Jo clenched a hand over her heart, marvelling at the completeness of him, the utter perfection of tiny fingers, cute little ears and button nose. A rush of very mixed emotions engulfed her and words she wasn’t even aware of saying tumbled out. ‘Aren’t you beautiful?’

      ‘Ooh…’ Collective female sighs went round the circle. ‘He’s smiling.’

      ‘He likes you, Jo.’ Vicki squeezed her arm, her expression all soft and mushy. ‘Just look at him, the pet…’

      Jo looked. And looked again. And then got a grip on herself. She tugged Monica aside. ‘Where’s Dr McNeal now?’

      ‘Tying up the paperwork with Angelo,’ Monica said absently, her gaze winging back to the baby as if drawn by an invisible thread. She sighed reminiscently. ‘We haven’t had a baby in the practice since Jane and Riley left with their little Kiara Rose.’

      All that had been before her time. Jo looked distractedly around. The baby was lovely but this was supposed to be a medical practice, not a crèche. Someone had to break up the party.

      ‘Right, let’s get back to work, everyone.’ Surprisingly, it was Vicki, taking over and sounding quite professional about it. ‘Dr Rutherford, I have you all set up in the staff-room. So let’s get this little guy back to his dad, shall we?’ So saying, she gathered up the capsule by its handles and wafted ahead of Jo along the corridor.

      Feeling pulled every which way, Jo turned, following a pace behind. She felt in shock. Almost. And nothing was going to plan. Nothing. Who could she get to look after a baby full time? A baby.

      She didn’t have much time to think about it. From his consulting room at the other end of the corridor, Angelo emerged with Brady. Their heads were turned towards each other and they were obviously deep in conversation.

      And they hadn’t seen her. Thanking all the saints in heaven, Jo darted ahead of Vicki into the staffroom, holding the door open for her to angle the capsule through. And berating herself for her loony behaviour. She should have waited beside the door and greeted Brady politely and professionally. Instead, she went to the window and looked out—at nothing.

      ‘Come on, now, pumpkin.’ Expertly, Vicki lifted the baby from his capsule. ‘Let’s go meet your daddy, shall we? Just buzz me if you need anything, Jo.’

      ‘Thanks…I will,’ Jo croaked.

      It was only a few seconds then until Angelo and Brady McNeal stopped at the open doorway. Seconds when Jo felt every nerve-end stretched tightly.

      ‘Jo will look after you now,’ she heard Angelo say, and then Brady had taken a step inside and Jo turned to face him, her arms linked defensively across her midriff. She blinked and something shifted inside her as she took in the tender picture of Brady and his infant son.

      He held him close, tucked into the crook of his arm, one large, masculine hand cradling his son’s tiny feet. And they looked so right together. Already a family. Jo felt a wash of emotion she couldn’t explain.

      ‘Jo.’ Brady’s mouth made a brief twist of acknowledgement.

      ‘Hello, Brady.’ She gave a stilted laugh. ‘This is all a bit odd, isn’t it? I mean, the way we met and neither of us knowing we were about to become work colleagues.’

      ‘Maybe it was kismet, then?’

      Fate? Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t. She gave him a taut smile.

      Brady’s gaze sharpened. ‘Angelo put me right about everything. So, no surprises and no harm done. And it is good to see you again. I’m sure we’ll work well together, aren’t you?’

      Jo nodded. ‘Of course.’ It would have been entirely unprofessional to have said otherwise. ‘Shall we get settled, then? I believe you’re going to need some child care.’

      ‘Ah…yes.’ Brady shifted his weight slightly as he turned and placed his son back in his capsule. ‘What are my chances, do you think?’

      ‘Not sure, really,’ Jo said. They pulled out chairs and made themselves comfortable at one end of the long table. ‘For some reason, I expected an older child.’

      Brady frowned and she guessed he was puzzled by her assumption. ‘I don’t recall I gave that impression at the interview.’

      ‘No…well…’ Jo lifted a shoulder dismissively. ‘It’s immaterial now. Let’s get a few details, shall we? How old is the baby?’

      ‘AJ is six months.’

      ‘AJ?’ Jo’s eyes widened in query.

      ‘Andrew James,’ Brady enlightened. ‘I named him after my father and grandfather. But we shortened it to save confusion. I wouldn’t have brought him with me today, except for a few unforeseen circumstances. Normally my mother would have been able to take care of him, but unfortunately she had other commitments today.’

      Jo absorbed the information with a nod. ‘Do you need to give Andrew a bottle or anything?’

      ‘No…’ Brady’s look softened. ‘He’s not due for a while.’

      Jo looked thoughtful. He seemed at ease in his role of sole parent, but surely there would have been times, like now, for instance, when he must feel the strain of it. Something propelled her to say, ‘It must have been a bit hair-raising, embarking on the long flight from Canada with such a young child.’

      His eyes glinted and a quick frown marked his forehead. ‘Your point being?’

      Jo was taken aback. He was almost bristling with defensiveness. Obviously he thought she was questioning his capability as a parent. Well, if he chose to take things the wrong way, that was his problem. She hadn’t wanted to be put in this position of trying to organise

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