His gaze was intense, and she had no idea what he was thinking. She doubted he was admiring how beautiful she looked as she puked out her guts. Or was it puked up?

“Where’s the father?”

Ah, that. She raised one shoulder. “There isn’t one.”

“You’re carrying the Baby Jesus?”

She laughed, instantly feeling better about their conversation. “Not that I know of. I had IUI. Intrauterine insemination.” At his blank look, she added, “A sperm donor and a turkey baster.”

“It wasn’t really a turkey baster, though, right?”

“It was more medical than that, but the concept is the same. I’m thirty-two, and I can’t seem to find someone to fall in love with. I really want to have kids, so I decided to stop waiting and make it happen. I have a good job, a supportive family and a network of friends.”

She told herself to stop talking—that she didn’t need to justify her decision to him.

He smiled, and the simple act stole her breath.

“You’re impressive,” he told her.

“Thank you.”

“I’m disappointed about the Baby Jesus.”

“I’m pretty sure God would pick someone else if he wanted to do that again.”

“It would have made a great story. You still up for mini pizzas?”

One cue, her stomach growled. “I am. I hope that doesn’t gross you out.”

“I’m tougher than I look.”

She was more interested in knowing if he was as good as he looked, but there was no polite way to ask that question. Plus, saying it would imply she wanted something from him, and to be honest, all her musings were more fantasy than anything else.

They picked out their snacks and she put them on a cookie sheet, then slid it into the oven and started the timer. She showed him the collection of beer and handed him the opener. After getting water for herself (yum), she tossed the salad with a little dressing and put it on the table. They sat across from each other at the small table.

“You didn’t go to Snacks and Wine tonight, did you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You have to be more social, Micah. It’s good for you. Plus, we always have such lovely guests. I think you’d really enjoy talking to them.”

He drew his brows together again. Man, did that work for her.

“Sometimes situations like that are awkward,” he told her.

“Why? No offense, but you don’t have any trouble talking to me. Is it groups of people that bother you?”

She wasn’t sure what kind of response she’d expected, but him bursting into laughter wasn’t it. She couldn’t tell if he was laughing with her or at her. Except she wasn’t laughing at all and couldn’t figure out what was so funny.