‘Are you finished?’ A male member of staff was at her side before she managed to set the empty glass down.
She nodded but felt the need to explain her continued occupation of valuable drinking space. ‘I’m just waiting for someone.’
There was a brief flicker of something replacing the irritability in the young man’s eyes and Quinn’s cheeks burned as she realised it was sympathy. He thought she’d been stood up. It was the natural assumption, she supposed, as opposed to her waiting for her foster son’s surgeon, who she’d emotionally tortured until he’d agreed to meet her here.
‘I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’ She began to defend her party-of-one residency but the busy waiter had already moved on to clean the next table, uncaring about her social life, or lack of one.
Unfortunately, the jitterbugs under her skin weren’t entirely down to her anticipation of an evening in a hot doctor’s company. The excitement of a singleton let loose in the city didn’t last for ever and these days the skippety-hop of her heart tended to come from fear of what was going to happen to Simon next.
Still, as Matt finally came into view across the street there was a surge of girlish glee she’d imagined had vanished out the door with her ex. There was something about seeing him in his casual clothes that felt forbidden, naughty even. She was so used to him in his formal shirt and trousers combo, or his scrubs, that a pair of jeans and tight T-shirt seemed more…intimate.
There was something voyeuristic watching him negotiate the traffic, oblivious to her ogling. It was amazing how one scrap of plain material became so interesting when stretched across the right body, marking out the planes of a solid chest and rounding over impressive biceps. As he jogged across the road, with his jacket slung over his arm, Matt had no clue how good he looked.
Long-dormant butterflies woke from their slumber, mistaking the handsome man coming towards Quinn as a potential date, and fluttered in her stomach as she followed his progress. They quickly settled when she turned to check her reflection in the window and was reminded this was more of a pity party than a hook-up.
She knew the second he spotted her in the crowd on the pavement as a smile spread across his lips and he lifted a hand to wave. He’d been incredibly understanding considering her sometimes erratic behaviour and this was above and beyond the call of duty. It also did nothing to diminish her crush.
‘Hey,’ he said as he pushed his way through to reach her table, the last of the evening sun shining behind him and lighting his short blond hair into a halo. It made him almost angelic, if it wasn’t for that glint in his ever shifting blue-green eyes which said there was potential for mischief there. It made her curious to find out if there was a wicked side to Saint Matt when he was off duty.
‘Hi, Matt.’ She pulled out a chair for him and couldn’t resist a smug grin as the surly waiter passed by and did a double take.
‘Do you want to go inside to order? The smokers tend to congregate out here…unless you’d prefer that?’
‘It’s okay, I’m not a smoker.’ It earned him more Brownie points too—as if he needed them—he obviously didn’t approve of the habit.
She popped her phone back in her bag and got up to follow him. It was easy to see him when he was head and shoulders above most of the crowd, but soon the mass of bodies was too thick for her to fight through to reach him.
‘Excuse me…sorry…can I just get past?’
On the verge of giving up and heading back out for some fresh air, she felt a large hand clamp around her wrist and pull her through the people forest. Somehow she ended up taking the lead with Matt creating a force field around her with his body alone. She revelled in that brief moment of nurturing where someone put her welfare first. It had been a long time since anyone had been protective of her feelings and she missed that kind of support.
Since moving away from home it had been in rare supply at all. Even Darryl, who she’d thought she’d spend the rest of her days with raising children, had put his selfish needs before her or any potential foster kids.
‘There’s a table over here.’ Matt cleared away the dirty dishes left behind by the previous occupants so they could take the comfy leather sofas by the fire. He obviously wasn’t the sort of man who only thought of himself. It showed in his every action. Even if her jealousy had prevented her from appreciating the extra care he’d given to Simon, Matt’s generous nature would make some lucky woman very happy indeed. A woman who wouldn’t second-guess his every gesture, waiting to find out what ulterior motive lay behind it.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a nuisance.’ She leaned forward in the chair, taking a sudden interest in the patina of the wooden table, unable to meet Matt’s eyes. It would be fair to say she’d been an absolute horror to him these past weeks. Now the hysteria had subsided and the voice of reason had restored calm, her bad behaviour became very apparent. Based on her past experience with men, her paranoia had led her to question his judgement, his professionalism and his methods when the man had simply been trying to do his job. It was a wonder he hadn’t called security to remove her from the premises at any point. His patience clearly stretched further than hers.
‘Don’t worry. You’re an anxious mum. I get it.’ He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, pumping the blood in her veins that bit faster.
She flashed her eyes up at him, surprised at the soft warmth of his touch and the very public display of support. Matt met her gaze and there was a connection of solidarity and something…forbidden, which both comforted and confused the hell out of her.
‘Are you ready to order?’
At the sound of an intruder, they sprang apart, the moment over, but the adrenaline continued surging through Quinn’s body as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t. She began to wonder if the gum-chewing waiter was stalking her, or was more interested in her date.
Doctor. Friend. Not date.
‘I…er…I’ll have the burger and fries.’ Matt snatched up the menu and barely glanced at it before ordering. She could read into that by saying he was as thrown by his actions as she was, or he simply ate here a lot.
‘The chicken salad wrap, please.’ Her appetite had yet to fully re-emerge since the fire but it would be nice to sit and enjoy a meal in company. In Matt’s company. Except he was on his feet and following the waiter back towards the bar.
‘I should’ve ordered drinks. I’ll go and get some. Wine? Beer? Soft drink?’ He called from an increasing distance away from her, walking backwards, bumping into furniture and generally acting as though he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Second-thoughts syndrome. He’d probably only suggested doing this to prevent another scene at his place of work.
‘Just water, please.’ She sighed, and slouched back in her chair, whatever spark she’d imagined well and truly extinguished.
A romantic interest from any quarter was nothing more than a fantasy these days anyway. She was going through enough emotional turmoil without leaving herself open to any more heartache. No, she should be grateful for what this was—a meal in adult company and a short respite from her responsibilities. Simon would be awake soon enough and the next round of anxious parenting would begin.
As she took in her new surroundings from her place of safety in the corner, she supposed it was a nice enough place. It had old-fashioned charm—Victorian, she guessed from the dark wood interior—and not the sort of establishment which immediately sprang to mind for a well-heeled surgeon. Matt was young, fashionable and, from what she could see, totally unencumbered by the ties she was bound by. Not that she regretted any of her choices, but if their roles were reversed she’d probably be living it up in some trendy wine bar hoping for a Matt clone to walk through the door and make her night. By weeping her way to a dinner invitation she’d no doubt spoiled the night for many single ladies across