“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “No, definitely not.”
She took a drink and set her glass on the coffee table. “So, what’s all this about lording the property over you and your sister?”
“Oh Jesus.” He rubbed his temples gingerly. “The short version is that Mom’s decided she’s not happy with Beth and me both being single and childless. So at every possible opportunity, she’s on our cases about it, and now she’s threatening to give Adam his inheritance—as in, the entire farm—early because he’s actually giving her grandkids like he’s supposed to.” He exhaled hard. “So either Beth and I get cracking on starting families, or the golden child gets the farm.”
Dara wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine Adam ever being the golden child. Especially not over you or Beth.”
“Yeah, well. He has been ever since he and his wife had their first.”
She pursed her lips. “Why do I get the feeling you won’t get golden-child status for knocking me up?”
Matt burst out laughing, but it quickly faded as he absently combed his fingers through his graying hair. “Christ, I am so sorry for how they treated you tonight.”
“I’m used to it. I’m more worried about how they’re going to treat you when they find out.”
“I’m used to that too.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so not looking forward to this, though.”
Dara sat up and reached for his arm. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He lowered his hand and turned to her. “This isn’t how you planned things, and I’m the one who needs to cut the apron strings and stop caring about my mother’s approval.”
“Except your mother’s approval is attached to the farm.”
“And my sister’s livelihood.” He groaned. “Fuck.”
Dara huffed. “Is your mother really not aware that the 1950s are over? Not everyone’s married off and having kids by their mid-twenties.”
He laughed humorlessly. “My parents didn’t stay in Aspen Mill so they could be progressive. And don’t act like yours are any better.”
“They aren’t. They just don’t have anything they can dangle over my head besides dirty looks.” She picked up her glass off the coffee table. “But believe you me, they are not thrilled about me getting divorced again.”
“Not surprised at all.”
“At least being pregnant gets me out of the dating pool for a while.” She scowled into her drink. “My mom won’t be able to try to match me up with every guy in town, since I don’t imagine too many guys are clamoring for freshly divorced mothers-to-be.”
Matt exhaled. “God, fuck dating.”
“Not having much luck?”
He rubbed his eyes again. “I haven’t done much of it, to be honest.”
“Really? I mean, I know the party scene isn’t your thing, but I’m surprised Internet dating hasn’t worked for you.”
“Well, it… I mean…” Matt fidgeted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “I haven’t put all that much effort into it.”
“I can help you set up a profile.” She laughed bitterly. “We can put ours up together.”
Matt kept his gaze down, and he didn’t laugh. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I um, did go on some dates last year, but…” His eyes lost focus.
“Didn’t go well?”
“You could say that.”
“What happened?”
He drummed his fingers on his knee, watching them instead of looking at her. “Two of them made it clear pretty quickly that they were more interested in my bank balance than they were in me.” He snorted. “I’m starting to think if I start doing that online dating thing, I should just use a picture of my wallet as my profile photo.”
“There are plenty of women out there who aren’t gold diggers. I promise.”
“Eh. On the bright side, at least I can get the gold diggers to give me the time of day. All the money in the world isn’t going to grow me a pair of balls when it comes to talking to women.”
Dara frowned. Some things really didn’t change, did they? “You’re just shy, sweetie. That’s where the online thing comes in. You break the ice a bit, then meet.” She shrugged. “And that way they don’t have to know about your money until they’ve actually gotten to know you.”
He chewed his lip. “It’s still not quite that simple. The thing is, I went on one other date last year. And it went…” His forehead creased, and he winced as if the memory was physically painful.