But now she was about to meet his daughters and they, of course, were his biggest interest.

They’d talked about it just the day before, sitting close together on their favorite bench in the park. She never would have thought she could have experienced heart-racing, dizzy, romantic feelings in a park, but it turned out that it wasn’t where you were that mattered, it was who you were with. Whenever she was with Jack, the rest of the world vanished for her.

Physically it was all very low-key of course. Interlocked fingers, the hard pressure of his thigh against hers. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to be more than enough to send her brain and body into meltdown. She was so aware of him, her response vastly out of proportion to the limited, restrained contact they’d had. It made her feel better to know she had the same effect on him. She felt his tension, and saw the occasional flash of heat in his gaze. It wasn’t coincidence that they always met in public places. It was an unspoken acknowledgment that the only way to take this slowly was to impose certain restrictions on themselves.

“Are you nervous of meeting them?” He’d asked the question as they’d sat there, close together.

“The girls? A little.” She hadn’t wanted to lie to him. “I’m also excited. From what you’ve told me, they’re smart, interesting, special people.” And she loved the way he talked about them with such pride. It said a lot about his character that he was such an engaged father. She hoped his children knew how lucky they were.

What scared her most, if she was honest, wasn’t his girls, it was how much she wanted this relationship to work.

“You’re incredible, do you know that?” He’d taken her hand and pressed it to his thigh, making it hard for her to focus on the conversation.

“Me?”

“It would be too much for most people. Dating a man with two kids. Most people would run away from a ready-made family, but you’re so open and optimistic about everything.”

She wouldn’t have described herself as open. She was careful. Cautious. Protective of herself. But with Jack it was different.

Because she badly didn’t want this to end, she’d already quizzed him in-depth. She knew that Izzy wanted to be a journalist, and that Molly had loved to draw and dance, although she’d stopped both after Becca had died. Flora loved to draw and paint, too, so she was hoping that maybe, if she was careful, she might be able to persuade Molly to draw with her. Still, she knew she had to be careful not to push things. The pressure from her aunt to “get over it and move on” had stressed her enormously.