“He is. He’d rather get by in life with a pretty smile than a day’s work.” Becca sighed ruefully. “And I still would have married him, so that makes me an idiot.”

“And now?” He took the spatula back from her.

This felt good, working together, making dinner together and talking. It was easy. It felt right. It wasn’t hard or awkward, like the date had been. “Now I think I’m mostly just resentful of how he wasted my time and how pigheaded I was. I don’t miss him. That was two years ago, and every so often he tries to reconnect. I’m not sure if it’s guilt or habit for him, but I’m done.” She shook her head. “I still want a family. I still want love . . . but now I’m thinking maybe I’ll just get a dog.” She chuckled, as if her sad joke was funny.

He didn’t laugh.

She kind of wished he would. Sympathetic laughter she could deal with. “So . . . that’s my story. The whole, psycho, clingy lot of it.”

Hank shot her a look. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I fully acknowledge that I’m the type that gets attached fast.” Becca bit her lip. “I’m trying to do better.”

“Maybe you weren’t the problem,” he said slowly. “Maybe he should have made his ideas about your relationship clearer so you knew he wasn’t ready to settle down. Maybe he didn’t say anything because he wanted you to keep supporting him. Or maybe he was the problem and not you.”

That was nice of him to say, even if it wasn’t true. “Oh, come on. If you were dating someone for a few years and they got fixated on getting married? What—”

“I’d say yes.” He flipped a pancake. “If we’ve been dating for years I must see something in that person I love, so, yes.”

She was stunned by his quick answer. “Is that what happened with you and Libby’s mom?”

The look he gave her was uneasy.

“I won’t judge you,” Becca said softly. “Even if it’s terrible. I shared my ugly, embarrassing past. Can’t you share yours?” She bumped his hip with hers in a flirty way. “Maybe you need a shot, too.”

That made him chuckle. “I guess that’s fair.” He handed her the spatula.

She took it while he poured himself a small amount of maple syrup, and she grimaced in memory at the cloyingly sweet taste as he downed it. Then he sighed, looked at her, and sighed again. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. At all.

Which made her all the more curious.