‘Ants.’

They both promptly stared down at the ground.

‘No ants,’ Kit final y said. ‘C’mon, let’s get this picnic on the road. The fish is nearly done.’

Ten minutes later they were settled in the chairs, plates balanced on knees, eating fish, potatoes, barbecued corncobs drenched in butter and salad.

‘Heck, Kit, for someone who won’t cook you’ve done a damn fine job.’

Kit licked butter from her fingers. ‘I have, haven’t I?’ But when she realized Alex fol owed the way her tongue caught the trickle of butter from the back of her hand, saw the way his eyes darkened, her stomach clenched. She grabbed a serviette and wiped her fingers instead. She left the rest of her corn untouched on her plate. Alex wrenched his gaze back to his plate.

The memory of their kiss burned between them.

That kiss, what did it mean? Alex hadn’t planned on fatherhood, but it had found him anyway. He hadn’t planned on any kind of romantic relationship either, but…

She refused to finish that thought.

She shifted on her chair. Could she blame pregnancy hormones for the way her heart crashed about in her chest whenever she locked eyes with Alex?

Her lips twisted as she speared a slice of cucumber. Not a chance. That was due to hormones she’d had long before she’d ever fal en pregnant.

‘The fishing this afternoon, Kit, it was fun.’

‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘I have so many great memories of sitting on my rock—fishing, dreaming, hanging out there with my friends or my mum and grandma. It reminds me of summer holidays and endless afternoons and laughter and al good things.’

He stopped eating to stare at her. ‘I’m honoured you shared it with me.’

Regardless of what happened, she knew this afternoon would always be precious to her. And what she’d just said to Alex, al of that was true. ‘Do you have a place like my rock?’

He cut into a potato, but he didn’t eat it. ‘No,’ he final y said.

His face didn’t shutter closed. She took that as a good sign. ‘What did you like doing with your parents when you were young?’ She swal owed as a different question occurred to her. ‘Are your parents stil alive?’

‘They died when I was twelve. Car accident.’

There was no mistaking the closing up of his face now. Her heart burned. Her fingers shook and she had to lay her cutlery down. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘That must’ve been awful.’

‘Not your fault, Kit.’

His words, his half-shrug…the fact he ate a piece of fish—fish she’d cooked for him—gave her the courage to continue. ‘Who did you live with afterwards?’

‘My grandfather. He was as rich as Croesus and as bitter as battery acid.’

Uttered in a flat tone—fact with no emotion. Kit abandoned the rest of her food. ‘That’s when you moved to Vaucluse?’

He nodded.

The exclusive address hadn’t shielded him from life’s harsher realities. She could sense that much.

‘He’d disowned my mother when she married my father. Apparently a motor mechanic wasn’t good enough for the daughter of one of Australia’s leading politicians.’

She shuddered. Alex’s grandfather sounded control ing and vengeful. It wasn’t the kind of home she’d ever want her child being sent to. ‘If he disowned your mother, why did he take you in?’

‘The papers got hold of the story, and to him appearances were everything.’ His lips twisted into the mockery of a smile that made a chil creep up her arms. ‘He had to at least be seen doing the right thing.’ He threw off his smile with a shrug. ‘I’d have been better off in a foster home.’

This was the man who’d raised Alex throughout his teenage years? More pieces of the puzzle fel into place. Kit wasn’t prepared for the surge of anger that shot through her on Alex’s behalf, though. The people who should’ve looked out for him, loved him

—his grandfather, his ex-wife—they’d betrayed him utterly.

She didn’t blame him for guarding his heart.

Her chest ached; her eyes ached. Did he have to keep guarding it against their baby, though?

‘I left when I was sixteen. I found work as a builder’s labourer.’

builder’s labourer.’

And he’d built an empire on his own. But that empire of his, it wouldn’t have made up for al he’d lost when his parents died. With an effort, she swal owed back the lump in her throat. She was glad he’d given her a glimpse into his past, but she wanted tonight to be about happy memories. ‘When they were alive, what did you like to do with your mum and dad?’

Enough light filtered into her garden for her to see that her question stumped him. She had a feeling that Alex had shut himself off from his past to protect himself from al the bad memories, but in the process he’d shut out al the good memories too.

‘I…’

She could see that he struggled. ‘Did your dad like to kick a bal around the garden with you? Did your mum make the best birthday cakes?’

One corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘Mum couldn’t bake to save her life.’ He sat higher in his chair and grinned. It made him look younger, wiped al the cares from his face for a moment. It stole her breath.

‘We used to play this strange cricket game with a tennis racquet and a bal .’

‘We used to play that game on the beach!’ She clapped her hands, absurdly pleased at this point of connection. ‘We cal ed it French cricket. Though I don’t know how French it was.’

‘On the weekends Dad would tinker with the car and he’d let me help. He taught me al the names of the tools.’

She could imagine a younger version of Alex—

dark-haired and scrawny—handing his father tools, studying engine components in that serious, steady way of his. If they had a son, would he look like Alex?

Share his mannerisms?

‘Mum’s favourite song was by the Bay City Rol ers and she’d sing it al the time. Sometimes Dad and I would join in and…’ he stil ed with his fork halfway to his mouth ‘…we’d end up on the ground laughing.

Mum would tickle me.’ His grin suddenly widened.

‘And Dad would always say that we were in for an early night.’ He glanced at Kit, his eyes dancing. ‘I now know what that was al about.’

‘They sound like fun.’ An ache stretched through her chest. ‘They sound as if they loved each other very much.’

‘I think they did.’

Don’t go fooling yourself into thinking you can get that kind of happy ever after with Alex. If it weren’t for the fact that she was pregnant, Alex would’ve left two weeks ago.

Without a backward glance.

He stil might yet.

The only happy ever after she could hope for was Alex realizing that he could be a good father, that he would be there for her child. Their child.

‘I did have a place!’ He swung to her. ‘A place like your rock. It was a tree in the back garden—a huge tree!’

She could tel he was talking about his garden in the western suburbs and not the one in Vaucluse.

‘There was a particular branch I always sat on. It was the best place. Mum would bring me out drinks and biscuits. You’re right, Kit, food out of doors does taste better.’ He set his now empty plate on the table and glanced around her garden. ‘You know, I like the idea of having a garden.’

Her breath caught. Enough to give up his penthouse apartment with its harbour views? She crossed her fingers. ‘Al kids should have a garden.’

She tried to keep her voice casual, which was nearly impossible when this al mattered so much.

‘Yeah.’ Physical y he was present, but she had a feeling he was a mil ion miles away.

‘Alex?’

‘Hmm?’

‘If you decided that you did want to be an active, involved father, what are the kinds of things you’d like to do with your child? Hypothetical y speaking, of course.’ She added the last in a rush. She didn’t want to scare him off. She didn’t want him clamming up again. She just wanted to plant the idea firmly—

very firmly—into his mind.

‘I…’ He dragged a hand back through his hair, shrugged. ‘The fishing this afternoon was fun.’

‘Nuh-uh, I bags the fishing. You come up with your own activities, buster.’

He chuckled but she heard the strain behind it. He swung to her. ‘Kit, I’ve by no means decided—’

‘I know.’ She refused let him finish, wouldn’t let him talk himself out of the thought of becoming a father. She touched his arm. ‘But wil you promise me to at least consider the possibility? Just to…think about it?’

‘Kit, I—’

‘Kit, I—’

He broke off and dragged a hand back through his hair. ‘I’l think about it. But I’m not making any promises.’

‘Thank you.’

He rose and took her now empty plate. ‘Would you like some more?’

She shook her head.

‘I’l get started on the dishes then.’

Kit watched him take their plates inside, her hand resting across her stomach, her fingers crossed.

Three days later Alex wasn’t any closer to knowing if he could manage the kind of involvement Kit wanted from him.

Whenever he thought of that baby girl at the Rock Pool, though, a surge of longing cracked his chest wide open. Longing that had grown into a persistent ache.

He didn’t know what it meant. He’d discounted children and family for ever.