Libby glowed in the way only a pregnant woman can—proud and just a tiny bit smug at her fecundity. “Almost three kids.”

Jess rolled her eyes at Libby’s scientific mind that always unnecessarily split hairs. “Most of my Sydney friends can’t convince their man to have one kid, let alone three. You got the last good bloke.”

Libby snorted. “Hardly.”

“I’m not kidding. Men like Nick are mythical creatures.”

“He’s not that mythical. His dirty socks and jocks fall short of the laundry basket most nights.” Libby poured Jess a glass of water as she’d done many times before and pushed it toward her. “I don’t understand. You hate the idea of commitment. You consider three months a lifetime and if you’re still with a guy after that, you dump him. Plus, you always tell me good men are dull and boring and you like bad boys, hot sex and excitement.”

“Yes, but that was before I wanted a baby.”

Libby’s mouth fell open and Jess clicked her tongue. “There’s no need to look quite so surprised.”

“You—you want a baby? Since when?”

Jess shrugged, already regretting her disclosure. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. We don’t only share clothes and shoes, we share everything.”

Once they’d shared everything. “Remember how much Karen hated that?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

Sometimes a best friend knew a girl too well. “Okay, fine. I’ve been thinking about a baby for a year or so.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to as soon as I found the right guy who wanted me, the mortgage and the kid.” Jess threw a handful of peanuts into her mouth. “Problem is, he doesn’t exist.”

Libby’s head tilted in disagreement. “Maybe you’re not swimming in the right pool.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You only date alpha corporate suits.”

“Duh! They earn heaps, which makes them good providers.”

“Except, from what you’ve told me, they’re all about the next merger or the next big float. That was fine when you were committed to no-strings-attached flings. If you want the whole soccer-mom scenario, you’re better off dating a tradesman.”

“This from a woman whose rule was to only date college-educated men!” And Jess had followed suit. It had shocked her that the choice hadn’t completely protected her from the types of assholes her mother had paraded through her life.

“I was young and stupid when I said that,” Libby said easily. “Besides, I married a man who dropped out of university.”

Annoyance flashed. “Really? Is it dropping out if you leave to work in an established family business that’s at the top of its game? And Nick finished his degree part time and then did an MBA.”

Libby raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. All I’m saying is you need to think about dating men who work family-friendly hours instead of insanely long days. Better yet, date a teacher. They get school vacation.”

Jess’s hand trembled as she refilled her glass. “I’ve got a better idea.”