He had messed that up. He hadn’t meant it to sound so cold, but then, Ben’s words had been cold. Maybe there was no way around that. He was certain that she didn’t have feelings for Ben the Bastard any longer, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t still hurt.

He rearranged his silverware for the third time, took a sip of his Coke. Stared at her Diet. Then switched them. She didn’t need to worry about ass spreading.

But he wasn’t sure what his role was in relation to her ass spreading or anything else for that matter. Did he have the right to be involved in her pregnancy?

Did he have the right to be the baby’s father?

Father. The word alone had him choking on his ice cube.

He’d never thought much about having kids. Jess had never wanted children, and since he’d never spent a lot of time around them himself, it hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. Besides, they had been young, just in their twenties, and he’d thought maybe later Jess would change her mind and they would talk about it. He would have been happy either way, he’d figured, but had always kind of secretly hoped Jess would go for kids eventually.

There were good memories from his childhood, a lot of good memories, and he had wanted to repeat that.

But then Jessica had been murdered, and there had been no thought to anything but getting through one long, painful day at a time. Kids became unfathomable. An impossibility. An alien concept in his frozen, hard, minimalist existence.

But for a man who had spent three years clamping down on every emotion, his seemed to have all burst out in one great greedy rush, a tidal wave of want and desire crashing over him.

He wanted Mandy. He wanted her baby. He wanted to get over his past and be given the chance to live again, a real life, with love and laughter and someone to share his home.

Was he ready? No, he was sure he wasn’t ready. He was sure that he was going to make mistakes, sure that he was going to smother Mandy with his needs and wants and neuroticisms. Sure that the thought of calling another woman his wife again would send him into a cold sweat. Sure that it was too easy to expect everything to be handed to him all neat and tidy and wrapped with a bow.

Mandy came back, pale but composed. Their food was still MIA.

“Why don’t I just get the food to go?” This wasn’t really the place to say what either of them needed to say.

“That’s a good idea. How close are we to your place?”