She scrolled down the profile to the first question.
What are you looking for in a partner?
She chewed her lip. Well wasn’t that a complicated question?
There was what she was looking for, and there was what she had any chance of getting in the near future, and those two things didn’t quite match up. She wasn’t even sure she wanted a partner right now. If she was honest with herself, the only thing she really wanted at the moment was someone who was a good kisser and had a functional penis. Relationships could wait.
The options were basic enough: I’m looking for something long term. I’m looking for something short term. I’m looking for friends. I’m looking for something casual.
Casual. Definitely casual.
The line marked Kids made her heart sink. None of the options quite fit. Have kids. Want kids. Don’t have kids, but want them. Don’t have kids and don’t want them. Have kids, but they don’t live with me.
Where the hell was Have a kid on the way and there’s a completely logical explanation that totally won’t send you running in the opposite direction?
She sighed, covering her face with both hands. A casual partner didn’t even have to know she was pregnant. But what if she met a guy, and after a couple of dates—or booty calls, or whatever—they decided they liked each other?
“So, um…” she heard herself trying to explain. “Now that we’re thinking of actually dating, I should probably tell you why my nipples are so sensitive…”
She laughed humorlessly at the thought. As if she’d be able to hide the truth much longer anyway. Her loosest jeans were already getting tight, and it was only a matter of time before she couldn’t play it off as “I’m eating my way through a divorce.”
This was pointless. And she was less than three months into the divorce, a timeline that was hard to ignore when it pretty much paralleled the progress of her pregnancy. Could she really convince anyone that she was over Jon when she was barely into her second trimester?
Yeah, this was definitely pointless. Having casual sex with her best friend in between sending him out to meet other women, that would’ve been okay. Going out and finding someone she didn’t really know but didn’t mind sleeping with was somehow…not. But what other options did she have? She was in divorce limbo. She was pregnant, for God’s sake. How many of her single-mother friends had bemoaned the fact that most of the men they’d tried to date ran for the hills as soon as they found out about the kids? And her kid wasn’t even here yet! Was she supposed to just sit at home until the kid was old enough for a babysitter so she could date again?
Well. That got depressing in a hurry.
She rubbed her tired eyes. It was probably just as well that the dating outlook was bleak at the moment. She wasn’t ready for another relationship. Having Matt around had been nice because, even after they’d started sleeping together, there was no pressure and no weirdness with him. The last thing she needed was to get involved with someone else. And she wasn’t even opposed to being single for a while—she didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Twice, she’d learned that having one in her life could have quite the opposite effect.
But goddammit, now that she’d been with someone who didn’t make her feel isolated and alone when they were sharing a bed, she missed it. She craved that companionship.
Sitting back in her chair, she took a deep breath.
Get yourself together, Dara. This is stupid.
The companionship wasn’t going away. Not entirely. Matt was still here as her friend, and he was still going to be a part of the baby’s life. The only thing changing was the physical intimacy.
Dara shook her head and sighed. Worrying about all this was ridiculous. She needed to focus on getting her life back in order and getting ready for the baby. While Matt headed out into the dating scene… Well, there were plenty of sex shops in Goldmount and a Walmart full of batteries.
She closed her browser and shut her computer down. Dating could wait. Contrary to her mother’s belief, the sea of men wasn’t going to dry up overnight, and even if it did, she’d be okay.
And one thing was damned certain—Matt was going to make some woman very happy one day.
Chapter Twenty-One
Matt’s stomach knotted at the Goldmount—Next Exit sign. This was it. His date with Julie.
Here we go.
Her place was easy enough to find. She lived in one of the areas of Goldmount that had been touted as “luxury, middle-class living.” Modest condos, walking distance to a million different places to eat and shop, and plenty of “nature” around—assuming a few pitiful-looking alder trees planted at regular intervals along the sidewalk counted as nature. Exactly the kind of place Adam wanted to build all over Aspen Mill.