She was still speechless when he walked away, pausing at the door for Devon, who walked in.
“Alice?” Devon half leaned in for a kiss and half shot out a hand.
Dazed, she took his hand, although she wasn’t sure if her dumbfounded state related to Harry or the fact that the pony-tailed Devon, whose profile read part-time surfer, part-time philosopher, full-time consumer of life, was a man well into his sixties.
“‘Dating Dilemmas? Ask Alice! Email her here at the Gazette.’”
Dan brandished a copy of the paper at Alice as she arrived at his place with the ingredients for their weekly dinner. It was her turn to cook. “You’re an agony aunt, now?”
“Why so skeptical? I’m getting enough dud dating experience to write a book.”
“Then do that instead of this. Kurnai Bay’s too small for the promise of anonymity this sort of column needs to work.”
Alice moved confidently around the familiar kitchen, grabbing a chopping board and a cook’s knife before dicing the vegetables for the stir-fry. “I disagree. The Gazette covers a pretty big area and I only need one question a week. I thought I’d get the ball rolling using our awesome ground rules as a template for how to do friends with benefits well.”
A horrified look filled his face. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? It could help others.”
“I’m not interested in helping others. This is the bay. Think about it. People won’t read it for advice, they’ll read it as a challenge to work out who the couple is. It will replace trivia night at the pub!”
“Instead of name that tune, they can play name that couple.” Alice laughed at her own joke. “You never know, it might cheer everyone up after the disappointment of not getting the funding for the women’s football change rooms.”
“It’s not funny.”
“I know. They’ve waited patiently for three years.”
“I’m not talking about the community development grant.” Dan rarely looked serious, but right now he was glowering as darkly as a blond man could.
It surprised her he was still talking about the column. “No one is going to connect us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know that the information I’m actively dating’s not a secret. It doesn’t matter if I go to a pub or a café in Bairnsdale, Marlo or anywhere else in between I run into people from the bay.” She bumped him playfully with her hip, wanting fun-loving Dan back. “The only reason you’re worried about word getting out is that winter’s reduced you to sleeping with someone your own age.”
“I’m serious, Alice. Don’t write about FWB in the column.”
“Fine.” His reaction confused her. He’d suggested their “friends with benefits” arrangement and been totally up front with her about not wanting a long-term relationship or kids. Or was he only open about that with her? Like Alice, Dan had grown up in a tight and loving family and he too had a mother who was not backward with her point of view.
“Is this about Hilary?”
Dan opened the fridge and handed her a cider before twisting the top off a beer for himself. “If there’s a biological clock dictating a woman’s desire to have a kid, then there’s definitely one for a menopausal woman wanting grandchildren. Mom’s fixated on becoming a grandmother and she’s on the warpath.”
“Hasn’t that been happening for the last year?”
“Yep. But she’s moved on from making casual suggestions and stepped up to full-on matchmaking. Invitations are being issued as we speak.”
Alice scraped the onions into the hot pan, considering how this news affected them. She’d hoped to keep their arrangement going until the summer as originally planned, especially if the cream Lacey Chu had prescribed meant they could explore more than one position. She planned to test drive it tonight. But sex aside, it was Dan’s undemanding friendship she valued most. It made a refreshing change from the current problems in her family.
“Who’s she got in mind?”
“You.”
“Me?” Her voice hit an unappealing pitch.
“Why so surprised? You’re attractive, well-educated, funny and you want kids. That’s catnip for my mother.”
“But it’s not catnip for you so—”
“Three out of four is catnip for me.”
Dan propped a hip on the counter next to the stove. The stance was casual but it showcased his toned body to perfection and his eyes sparkled at her. A flash of desire shot through her and she wondered about abandoning dinner for sex. Then her stomach grumbled, reminding her she was starving. If they didn’t eat first, she’d miss out on dinner, because sharing a meal after sex moved into couple territory. Neither of them wanted that.
She reduced the heat under the onions and between them. “Why don’t you tell Hilary you’re not interested in commitment or children?”
For a moment he looked like the sandy-haired little boy who’d once clung to his mother’s hand at kinder drop-off. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“But she’s already disappointed.”
“No. She’s hopefully frustrated.”
“What’s the difference?”
He lifted the spatula out of her hand and added the other ingredients to the wok. “There’s a lot of pressure being the first born. Something you wouldn’t understand, Twin Two.”
Being the slower second twin came with its own pressures, but Alice didn’t enlighten him. “But I thought your parents were okay with Bram coming out.”
“They are. But the way Mom sees it, Bram has to jump through a lot more hoops to have a kid so it’s easier for me to give her the grandchild she craves. Plus, I live here and Bram’s in Melbourne. I’ve been hoping time would do the job and she’d eventually just give up on the idea, but now you’re back in town and she’s hell bent on getting us together. That’s why, when you get around to checking your email, there’ll be an invitation for Sunday lunch.”
“I—”
“Before you suggest that politely declining will solve the problem, Hil will keep at it until you capitulate. We may as well get it over with
