territory. So I tried not to feel cross and like a wicked stepsister, and also tried not to let my heart beat harder and my stupid breath catch in my throat at the sight of him in his plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple times and all that breadth of shoulder and thickness of forearm, in his jeans and work boots, looking like toughness on a stick. And I headed across the lobby with Ruby, who was practically dancing in her clogs.
“Hi,” I said, brilliantly, when we got there.
“Morning, Daisy,” George said. “Beat out all the other boys to be your escort this morning. Best job going.”
He laughed, a merry ho-ho, and I smiled, put my arm around his substantial waist, and said, “You know I always hope it’s you.” Which, since George was forty-five and had six kids, was pretty safe to say. Hence the arm and the touching and so forth.
“Look who we’ve got here, though,” George said. “Samoan god, eh. Just like me. Gray Tamatoa, in the flesh.” He winked at Ruby, in case she might’ve missed the point. “Prettiest nurses in Otago,” he told Gray. “You’re a lucky man yourself.”
“I am,” Gray said. “And sorry, George, but that’s my girl you’re grabbing.” After which he took a step, got me around the waist, more or less dragged me across to him, bent me back over his arm—yes, he did, which had me gasping—kissed my mouth, stood me up again, smiled into my eyes, and said, “I came to take you to breakfast. A working woman needs to eat.”
I stood there with my mouth open like a trout flopping on the shore, tried to think what to say, and failed.
“But you …” I started.
George said, “Well, that’s news, if you like. Reckon this means I have to go work for a living instead of catching up with Miss Daisy, because you won’t find a better protective detail than that, Daisy-girl. Morning, Ruby. Cheers for the selfie, uso. My kids’ll be chuffed.”
“Your kids won’t know who I am,” Gray said.
That made George laugh some more. “Nah. I’m old, and so are they. Got another grandson coming soon, and that makes three. The wife’ll be chuffed as well. Too chuffed, but never mind. Back to work. Fā soifua, uso.”
“Fā soifua,” Gray answered.
George ambled off, and Ruby said, “I’m off myself. See ya, Daisy.” And shot the kind of look at me that meant, Why did you let me natter on about my crush on him?
To which I had no answer.
Gray
Daisy looked gobsmacked. And not in a good way. I said, “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Sorry. I was a bit nervous, so …”
She’d got her voice back, because she said, “You did that because you were nervous?” Which, yes, sounded like Daisy again.
I said, “I get overconfident when I’m nervous. Compensatory, you could call it. Sorry. If you hated it …”
“I didn’t say I hated it,” she said. “I said I was surprised.”
Actually, she hadn’t said that at all. Didn’t seem like the moment to be pedantic, though, so I said, “Well … breakfast? That was the best idea I could come up with. Private time, eh. My mum, your sisters …” I scratched the back of my head and grinned in what I hoped was a rueful manner and did my best not to think about dipping her back and kissing her. How light she’d been on my palm, or the jolt of surprise it had been to realize that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
That was something you didn’t see every day, sadly. Little yellow T-shirt, no bra. She looked just bloody fine like that. I was trying not to look some more, because, yes, that kiss had worked for her. I wasn’t having much success.
“You need to go to work, though,” she said. Buttoning up her cardigan, which was a pity.
“I’ve been,” I said. “Got in by seven, got the team going, and now I’m here with you. If we don’t rattle our dags, though, my time’ll be up. D’you mind walking? I thought, Good Oil Café. OK with you?”
“Yeh,” she said. “Sure. Thanks.”
We headed out of the hospital and down the street, and she stuck her hands in her cardigan pockets, frowned down at the ground, not much like Daisy at all, and said, “Your mum got in, then. I heard her car.”
“Yeh,” I said. “She did. In time to wake me from my nightmare and bring me a cup