The table they’d occupied last time was available, but Theo nodded toward the one in the window.
“It’s nicer,” he said softly, his hand reaching down and squeezing hers.
She nodded with palpable tension. “I don’t mind. It’s just a place to sit and eat.”
Theo dipped his head forward, hiding his response. Amusement, yes, but frustration as well, at the determined way she was pushing up barriers everywhere she could. Once they were seated and furnished with menus, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes heavy on her face.
Beneath the table, his feet brushed hers and she startled visibly, but didn’t pull away.
“My mother would like to meet you.” The words fell from his lips and he wished, once spoken, he could draw them back. Because Imogen visibly recoiled and he didn’t want to say or do anything to hurt her.
“She knows about me?”
His smile was terse. “Of course. I could hardly keep the fact that you’re going to have my baby a secret.”
“No, no, I know,” she mumbled. Her eyes were huge in her face. “What did she say?”
He reached across the table, curling his fingers over hers. “She was surprised.”
“Her and me both,” Imogen said with a tight smile and a small shake of her head.
Theo nodded, but curiosity sparked in his gut. “It must have been a shock to you.”
“Yes.” She toyed with her napkin, but her mind was drifting back to that morning. “Even though there were so many symptoms, I still expected the test to be negative.” She shook her head. “I guess for your mother, it’s all very soon after your divorce.”
He nodded. “But in truth, my marriage was over for a long time before we ended it.”
“Why?” The question hadn’t been planned and she wasn’t sure it was sanctioned but, once out, she didn’t apologise for it.
“Marie and I wanted different things,” he said vaguely, as though it was an explanation. “I think my mother is the only one who doesn’t realize that.”
“And she wants to meet me? I can’t wait,” Imogen said with a roll of her eyes.
Theo’s laugh was low and husky. “She’ll love you.”
Gianni appeared with a serve of focaccia and placed it down with an exaggerated wink at Imogen. “Your favourite, no?”
“Uh huh.” She reached for a piece while Theo ordered for them. She wanted to challenge him, except that he ordered what she’d been looking at, and that formed a bigger question in her mind: how did he know exactly what she wanted?
“I wish I could remember more about that night,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “It’s all a blur, still.”
The deep throb of emotion was something she hadn’t expected. “I wish you could remember it too.”
“So tell me,” he invited, linking his fingers together as he stared across the table. Their eyes met and an invisible arc of electricity shot to life. She shivered as it hummed down her spine, skipping over her and filling her with awareness and need.
It was only fair that he wanted details. The night – while meaning nothing to him at the time, had been hugely important – it had led to the creation of their baby.
“You were already in the pub when I arrived. I relieved the guy who’d done the afternoon shift, and I guess you’d been drinking for a while.” She shook her head in frustration. “But you seemed fine. You spoke to me. You were …” gorgeous. Addictive. Perfect. “Sensible.” She looked down at the table.
“So how did we go from that to sleeping together?” He prompted, genuinely curious.
Her cheeks flushed pink as the details stormed through her brain. “Does it matter?”
“I want you to fill in the gaps for me,” he murmured softly. “I want to remember.” He wanted her to assuage his guilt, as a point of fact. To know that he hadn’t taken undue advantage of her.
Her look was one of panic but finally, she nodded. She supposed, in his shoes, she’d have felt the same. “You were hungry, but the kitchen was closed. We don’t do meals through the week, just weekends. We’re not busy enough, generally.” She was rambling. “But I offered to make you a cheese platter and you followed me into the kitchen. I was singing …”
“The A-team,” he said, remembering suddenly the way he’d walked up behind her, and she’d been wiggling her butt to the Ed Sheeran song and something like fate had shifted over him, suffocating him with certainty.