Unsuitable

“Did someone break your heart so you decided to have Mia by yourself?”

She didn’t have to have this conversation. He’d have to accept anything she decided. “No. Never got my heart broken. Never met anyone I wanted to stay with long term. Got scared I’d miss out if I wanted for lightning to strike.”

“So you’ve never been in love?”

Damn him for the neat table-turn, but she had nothing to hide from him. He practically lived in her house. “I’ve been in lust. I’ve had relationships I hoped might turn into something deeper, but I’ve never been in love.”

“Shit, for real?”

He looked appalled. She laughed at his shocked expression. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re fucking gorgeous. Men must’ve fallen all over you.”

Shocked, she opened her mouth to say what— no idea— and he filled the gap. “I find it hard to believe you thought you had no option but to go it alone.”

“I’d hit thirty. I didn’t want to be approaching every relationship I had for the next decade on the basis of whether the guy would make a good father or not. I didn’t think that was a good idea, and I didn’t want to get that far along and realise I’d missed my chance or settle with someone I didn’t love.”

“Jesus.” He shook his head and looked away. She could see how the enormity of it registered.

“Pretty much every one of my friends at the time thought I was insane. Now I have friends trying and failing with IVF, marrying Mr Right For Now or frightening men away because they’re desperate.”

“Is Les in one of those categories?”

“No. Les is hopelessly self-conscious about her body type. She doesn’t think any man will ever be interested in her in a romantic way.”

“That’s too bad. She’s fun.”

“She is fun. But she’s also right. For the most part men aren’t interested in size eighteen.”

“What about you? Now that you have Mia and you don’t have to be desperate, why haven’t I seen a string of boyfriends coming to the house?”

“Good question.”

“You want me to guess?”

“This could be amusing.” She rubbed her neck. She still had the headache, but Reece and the salt air were good placebos.

He thought about it, looking past her out to sea. He knocked his knee against hers. “I have no flaming idea. I’m still thinking about how brave you were. Always figured some bastard walked out on you, or died like what happened to Charlie.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see it as brave. I was selfish. I didn’t want to miss out and I knew I could give a child almost everything they’d need if I organised it right.”

“Almost? So why not keep trying for a relationship with a guy, with dad potential?”

“I’m a thirty-four, nearly thirty-five year old single mum of a toddler, who has an executive level job. How much time do you see me having for random dates with guys?”

He tapped the wooden slat tabletop. “You’d make time if it was important enough.”

“Possibly.” She looked at a couple stroll by with a baby in a pram and toddler by the hand. “Thing is, I’ve still not met anyone I’m interested in.” She couldn’t look at Reece. If she did, he might know that was a lie that could boil the ocean.

“Does that mean? Shit.”

She looked at him sideways. He?

?d done the numbers and joined the dots. Not a precise science, but she guessed he’d figured out roughly how long it was likely to be since she’d had sex.

He looked at his hands on the table. “Ah, none of my business, but that’s a crime, Audrey Bates.”

She grinned at his quirky formality and poked him with the fork again. For years it had been a relief, not to have to worry about the whole meeting people, like, lust, negotiate sex thing. “We should get Mia home.”