“I raised you better than this, Dara.”
“Better than what? To have a backbone and not be some insecure man’s doormat?” She put up a hand before her mother could protest. “Here’s the thing—we can discuss it all day long, but the decision is made. Jon and I are getting a divorce, and I’m having this baby on my own.”
“And I think you’re making an enormous mistake. Still, it’s your decision.”
And I’m not going to hear the end of it any time soon.
But at least for today, the subject was dropped.
Dara headed home to get back to work, and all the way across town, her teeth were grinding. Things had been so much easier the first time she’d gotten divorced. Her mother hadn’t approved of that marriage from the start, and though she’d tried not to show it, she’d been thrilled when Dara had tearfully announced she was leaving Charlie.
Jon had taken a while to grow on her, but Mom sure liked him now. As much as she ever liked any man Dara got involved with, anyway. And there was a baby this time. Dara had a sneaking suspicion that if she’d been pregnant during the first divorce, her mother would’ve moved heaven and earth to stop that one too. She could’ve stomached Charlie if the alternative was her daughter having a child out of wedlock.
Dara rolled her eyes. Maybe she did need to go back to Los Angeles. At least that town wasn’t firmly entrenched in the goddamned Dark Ages.
Beneath the steering wheel, she slid a hand over her still-flat belly. No, even if Aspen Mill never emerged from the 1950s, it was quieter and safer than the parts of LA she could afford to live in by herself.
And besides, even though she couldn’t admit it to her family yet, her baby’s father lived here.
Chapter Eleven
As much as Matt had insisted things only had to get weird if they let them, he was genuinely surprised that they hadn’t. As if saying it and doing it were two different things.
But after they’d fooled around on Dara’s couch, they’d fixed their clothes and gotten to work on her house. And now, a good twenty-four hours after he’d left, she was at his front door, ostensibly to return the favor and help him put up some paintings he hadn’t gotten around to hanging.
The second she met his eyes across the threshold, though, he was sure of two things.
One—things had definitely not gotten weird.
Two—no pictures were getting hung up in this house tonight.
He stood aside to let her in, and he’d barely shut the door and turned around before she grabbed him and kissed him. Oh, hell yeah. He let the door catch them and hold them up, and he wrapped his arms around her, his cock hardening between them as they kissed like all the doubts they’d had yesterday were long gone.
And they were. Those doubts, anyway. There were certainly others, and now they started creeping back into his mind. Kissing, he could do. Touching her, he could definitely do.
But then what?
Dara broke the kiss and met his eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Why?”
“Because you’re tense all of a sudden.” She tilted her head, looking him right in the eye like she already knew what he was thinking.
He drew back a bit. “I’m, uh…”
“Nervous?”
“You could say that.”
“It’s okay.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “There’s no pressure and no hurry.”
“I know.” He swallowed. “But I am so clueless. All I know is the technical stuff.”
“The ins and outs?”
“So to speak. It’s the finer points, you know? What do I do with my hands? What do I say? What if a woman doesn’t like what—”
“Sweetie, sweetie.” She shook her head. “You’re overthinking this. I promise, it’s much easier than it sounds.”
Laughing uncomfortably, he added, “Easy for you to say. What I know about sex comes from movies and the Internet, and I’m pretty sure Internet porn isn’t exactly the most educational material out there.”
“Matthew Coolidge.” She clicked her tongue and sighed dramatically. “Are you telling me that you watch porn?”
“Oh please. Don’t act like you don’t.”
“Of course I do. I’m just stunned that a gentleman like you is—” She smothered a laugh. “I can’t even say that with a straight face.”
“Uh-huh.” He rolled his eyes. “Nice try, though.”
She laughed, but her expression turned serious. “And you’re right, porn isn’t educational. It’s all fucking fake.”
Matt groaned. “Great. That makes it that much easier to convince myself I might have some clue what I’m doing when the time comes.”