LITMIR.BIZ

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      Even though he’d explained gently that he was simply doing his job, he could hardly be rude enough to turn away things that people had spent time making personally for him. So he accepted them with a smile on behalf of the fire crew, wrote thank-you notes—again on behalf of the entire fire crew—and secretly rather enjoyed them making a fuss over him.

      But Flora Loveday was different.

      There was something about her—a kind of inner peace and strength that drew him. Here, on her home ground, she glowed. He’d been too frantic with worry about Joey to notice properly earlier, but she was beautiful. Soft, gentle brown eyes; her hair, too, was soft, all ruffled and curly and cute. And the warmth she exuded made him want to hold her close, feel some of that warmth seeping into him and taking the chill of the fear away…

      And then he realised what he was thinking and slammed the brakes on. Yes, he found her attractive—dangerously so—but he couldn’t act on it. In his job, it wasn’t fair to have a serious relationship with someone. He worked crazy hours and did dangerous things; he’d seen too many friends die and leave families behind. And there was Joey to consider, too. He’d had too many changes in his young life, just recently. The last thing he needed was his uncle being distracted by a new girlfriend.

      But Tom also knew that he could do with a friend. Flora was the first person who’d seemed to understand or who had managed to start to reach Joey. And he really, really needed help reaching his nephew.

      ‘So what have you and Joey been up to?’ he asked.

      ‘I took him to see the chickens.’

      ‘Chickens?’ He hadn’t expected that.

      She went pink again. ‘My dad started Loveday Eggs.’

      He’d seen their boxes in the shops. ‘So you have chickens here?’

      She nodded. ‘The hens are free range, so we went and collected some eggs. And then we made some brownies.’ She smiled. ‘There are some left. But not that many.’ She placed a bowl of pasta in front of him.

      ‘This smells amazing. Thank you.’ He took a mouthful. ‘Wow. And it tastes even better than it smells.’

      ‘It’s only boring old spaghetti and sauce.’ She looked away.

      ‘It’s wonderful.’ He ate the lot and accepted a second bowl. And then he grimaced. ‘Sorry. I’ve just been horribly greedy.’

      ‘You’ve just spent hours sorting out a fire. You must’ve been starving.’

      ‘I was,’ he admitted. And then he accepted her offer of helping himself to the brownies. ‘Wow. These are seriously good. And you made them with Joey?’

      She fished her mobile phone out of her handbag, fiddled with it and then handed it to him. There was a picture of Joey, wearing a tea-towel as a makeshift apron, stirring the chocolatey mixture in a big bowl—and there was almost as much chocolate round his face.

       And he looked happy.

      Tom couldn’t speak for a moment. Then he gulped in a breath. ‘I didn’t know Joey liked cooking.’

      ‘Most kids love messy stuff,’ she explained, her colour deepening. ‘And cooking’s better still because they get to eat what they make.’

      In one afternoon, she seemed to have got far closer to his nephew than he’d managed in a month. And he knew he needed help. Flora might be the one to help him reach Joey—and there was just something about her that made Tom sure that she wouldn’t judge him harshly. ‘It never even occurred to me to try doing something like that with Joey.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I like kids. I’m always the one sent on school visits, but I just don’t seem to be able to connect with Joey—and I’m his uncle. Everything I suggest us doing, he just stares at me and says nothing. I can’t reach him any more. I feel…’ He shook his head, grimacing. ‘Hopeless. Helpless. I don’t even know where to start.’

      ‘Give it time,’ she said. ‘It’s only been a month since the accident—and he was one of the quieter ones in the school even before then.’

      Tom blinked in surprise. ‘So you work at the school? I thought you said Nick Tremayne was your boss?’

      ‘He is, but I’m the school liaison,’ she explained.

      ‘So you visit the local schools?’

      She nodded. ‘I spend half my time at the local nursery and schools, and half my time at the practice. I do a health visitor clinic at the primary school for mums one morning a week, a clinic at the high school, and I do the vaccinations and preschool health checks in the nursery. Plus I take the personal development classes—I get the little ones thinking about healthy eating and exercise and how they can get five a day, and how they can look after their teeth properly.’

      It was the most he’d heard her say in one go, and she looked animated; clearly she loved her job and felt comfortable talking about it. ‘So I take it you like your job? ‘

      She smiled. ‘I love it.’

      Just as he loved his: something else they had in common. Tom paused, remembering what she’d said when he’d first walked in. ‘I’m sorry about your parents.’

      ‘And I’m sorry about your sister.’ She bit her lip, looking awkward. ‘I didn’t know her very well, but she seemed nice.’

      ‘She was. My big sister.’ Tom sighed. ‘And I feel worse because I was meant to go to France with her, Kevin and Joey to see our parents for New Year and I bailed out. Maybe if I’d been driving the crash wouldn’t have happened.’

      ‘You don’t know that,’ Flora said. ‘And think of it another way—if you had been in the crash, Joey might’ve been left without anyone at all.’

      ‘Mum and Dad would’ve stepped in to help, but they’re nearly seventy now, and it’s not fair to drag them back to England and make them run around after a little one. Dad’s arthritis really gives him gyp.’ He rubbed his hand across his forehead, but the tight band of tension refused to shift. ‘I loved spending time with Joey when Susie was alive—I used to see them most weekends. I’ve always tried to be a good uncle and we used to have fun—but since the accident he’s just put all these barriers up and I don’t know how to get them down again.’

      ‘Give it time,’ she said again, her voice kind.

      ‘Did he talk to you this afternoon?’

      ‘A bit. He was a little shy.’ She shrugged and looked away. ‘But so am I, so that’s OK.’

      And that was one of the reasons why Flora seemed to understand Joey better than he did: she knew what it was like to be shy, and Tom never had. And he couldn’t help wondering what Flora was like when she wasn’t shy. He knew she was practical and kind—but what did she look like when she laughed?

       Or when she’d just been thoroughly kissed?

      Oh, for pity’s sake, he really needed to keep his libido under control.

      Luckily his thoughts weren’t showing on his face, because Flora continued, ‘I read him some stories after we’d eaten—he chose them from the box I take to clinic—and then he fell asleep on the beanbag.’

      ‘Bless him.’ Tom bit his lip. ‘I think he’s had a better time with you than he would’ve done at the childminder’s.’ He sighed. ‘I feel bad taking him to the childminder’s for breakfast and then not picking him up until after dinner for half the week, but I work shifts—it’s the only thing I can do. I was trying to avoid any more change in his life, but she told me the other week I’m going to have to find someone else because she’s moving.’

      ‘Would your childminder be Carol?’ she asked.

      Yet again, she’d surprised him. ‘How did you know?’

      ‘I

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