“Terrified.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t weird. I was terrified.”
She laughed, but immediately sobered when his expression matched his words. “Why were you terrified? You asked me out.”
“Because it mattered, Alice.”
“It was just dinner.”
He shook his head. “I wanted it to be more than dinner. I wanted it to be the beginning of something, but I stuffed it. Then I saw you with Dan … I can’t compete.”
“Dan’s just a good friend.”
Harry snorted. “It’s pretty obvious he wants to be more than friends, Alice. And he’s young and unencumbered. I’m this scruffy bloke ten years older than you, barely keeping up with two kids, a dog and a mortgage, whereas you’re a twirl of color and light that takes my breath away. But I can only offer you chaos and baggage.”
She wanted to hold onto “you take my breath away” but she’d let declarations like this lead her totally in the wrong direction with Tim and to a certain extent, Dan. This time she was using reason and logic and ignoring lust. “What’s the baggage?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No.”
“The kids, the neurotic dog, the mortgage.” He spread out his arms. “My life.”
“None of that’s baggage.” Her eyes strayed to the pelican—the ever-present memory of his dead wife and the children’s mother. “Do you mean Helene?”
“No.” He kept his eyes fixed on Alice. “I loved H. We had eighteen mostly happy years together and she’ll always be part of our lives. But the kids and I have learned to live without her, which in some ways is sad but in other ways is healthy. It’s exactly what she wanted for us. This year’s shown us we can be happy again. You’ve been a big part of that, Alice. The kids love you.”
Her heart rolled. “I love them too, but that’s not enough, is it?”
His dark brows drew down. “What do you mean?”
“Honest to God, Harry. How can you be so perceptive with some things and so hopeless with others? Are you attracted to me?”
“What the hell do you think ‘takes my breath away’ means?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I love you, Alice, but what about you? Any chance you can love me as well as my kids?”
The question brought into stark relief her own concerns. “Sometimes I think you and I are perfect together and other times …”
“When do you think we’re perfect?”
“That night I arrived with my nieces and nephew. The rock pool ramble.”
His shoulders sagged. “So, you think we’re only perfect when there are kids everywhere?”
“Not just then. You’ve put up with my erratic emotions and you were incredibly kind to me the night I fell apart.”
“Kind?” He grimaced. “That sounds very platonic.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. There’ve been moments when I thought there was a definite spark between us. Like the time you dipped me.”
“There’s definitely a spark from me.”
She licked her lips, sensing this was too important to get wrong. “But sometimes, when I feel that spark, you do something that makes me think I’ve imagined the attraction.”
“Like what?”
“Like paying me for talking to Holly about periods. I mean, jeez!” She threw up her arms. “That’s something a friend does, Harry. You don’t pay for that.”
“I didn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you! It’s bloody complicated when money’s involved. That’s why I wrote to Dear Alice.”
She stared at him. “You were Dear Awkward?”
“Pretty apt when it comes to me around you.” He gave her sheepish grin. “I followed your advice and asked you out.”
She thought about everything he’d said but their unexciting date kept coming back to her. “Harry, I think we need to have sex before we can decide anything.”
He blinked and swallowed. “Did I just imagine you saying ‘we need to have sex’?”
“No. You heard right.”
“I want to say hell yeah, but I feel I should ask why.”
“To make sure we’re compatible. I mean, we didn’t meet and have that big bang, did we?”
“Speak for yourself.”
The surprises kept coming. “You found me attractive from the first moment we met? That’s not possible. You could barely look me in the eye and when you did speak to me, half the time you were rude—Oh …”
Harry’s ears glowed red. “Happy now you know you’ve discombobulated me for months?”
“I thought you were grieving.”
“Mostly I just had no idea how to be around you.”
“At least you know your weaknesses,” she teased.
“I also know my strengths.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in close and kissed her.
“I think it’s fair to say we’re compatible,” Alice said later, snuggling into Harry.
His fingers played in her hair. “Nothing like putting a guy under pressure.”
“You more than rose to the occasion.”
He grinned. “At least I finally did something right.”
She suddenly wanted to know all about the casserole-bearing women. “Have you had sex since Helene died?”
“I had grief sex with H’s best friend a couple of times. It wasn’t a good idea.”
“And since you came down here?”
“Nothing, unless you count me fantasizing about you. I imagine your year of dating has been a lot busier.”
She propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him, knowing that whatever lay ahead for them, the first step was telling him the truth about the last eleven months. “Not really. When I met you, I was in the middle of a stupid crush that involved quite a bit of sexting.”
“I think I’ve seen his dick.”
This time she flushed. “Yeah, that’s him. Worse than that, it turns out he was married with kids.”
“Bastard.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “And I don’t know how you’re going to feel about the next bit of information, but I need to tell you that from May to November, Dan and I have been weekly friends with benefits. It’s over now.”
He blew out a long, slow breath. “You have had a busy year. Why did it end?”
“We wanted different things.”
“Like what?”
“He wants a child-free life. I don’t.”
Harry’s face fell into serious lines. “So, here we are back at the crux of the issue. I know you can’t have kids but
