Claire Baxter

The Single Dad's Patchwork Family


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in being his friend. She didn’t even want to see him again.

      Suppressing a sigh, he looked back at her, just in time to see her take a credit card from her purse.

      ‘No,’ he said, giving his hand a quick shake. ‘I’m staying at this hotel. I’ve already charged the meal to my room.’

      She put the card away. ‘Thank you.’

      She wasn’t so pale now that she had some food inside her. She’d worried him when her face had turned as white as the tablecloth.

      He wouldn’t patronize her by thinking she needed—or wanted—someone to look after her. She clearly managed a successful business as well as a family all on her own, and it would be insane to imagine she was helpless, but there was something about her that made him want to help.

      The slight flush in her cheeks suited her. It made her eyes sparkle more brightly, which he wouldn’t have thought possible.

      ‘Let me give you my number.’ He reached into his jacket as he spoke.

      ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Really, there’s no point. I don’t have time to go out. This is so unusual for me.’

      He separated one business card from the small pile and held it out to her, willing her to take it. ‘I don’t go out either, but I’d like you to have my mobile number, just in case.’

      ‘In case?’

      He shrugged. ‘In case you want someone to talk to. In case you need a friend.’ He thought it sounded lame but didn’t know what else to say. It just felt wrong to let Regan disappear.

      She reached for the card, frowning as she scanned it. ‘You’re a lawyer? You didn’t say so.’

      ‘Not practising. Ignore all the details on the card except the mobile number. It’s still the same.’

      She nodded and slipped the card away. ‘Thank you.’

      He knew she had no intention of calling. She couldn’t even meet his eyes. She’d probably throw the card away as soon as she got home.

      It shouldn’t matter. He’d only just met her. He shouldn’t care whether she liked him or not.

      As she stood, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He couldn’t help it; he did care.

      ‘Don’t bother seeing me out.’ She flapped a hand at him. ‘I hope you enjoy what’s left of your meal. And…it was nice meeting you.’

      Her voice had dropped to a murmur on the last words, but he heard her well enough to believe she meant it. Hope leapt into his chest.

      ‘It was great to meet you, Regan.’ He held out his hand and, after a slight hesitation, she shook it. ‘Remember, call me if you need anything,’ he said, holding on to her soft hand a second longer than strictly necessary.

      She looked into his face, her eyes shining. But she didn’t speak or even nod. She simply pulled her hand from his and walked away.

      A week after the launch of the tourist trail, Regan rubbed her forehead and let her eyes drift away from the computer screen. She glanced across at her two sons, who were quietly colouring pictures, but she’d promised they wouldn’t have to sit there for too long. They were boys; they had energy to burn.

      She worked at home as much as possible in order to spend time with Will and Cory. They had an arrangement that if the boys sat quietly and let her concentrate while working at her computer, she’d reciprocate by playing a noisy game with them when she’d finished.

      Regan normally had her mother around for back-up when she needed to go into the office, but her grandfather’s health had taken a turn for the worse and her mother had decided to move in with him for a little while, to look after him. He’d been relatively self-sufficient till now, at least in a physical sense. Financially, he was one more person who relied on Regan. Not that she begrudged him the money. Of course she didn’t.

      She did wish, though, that Pop would move closer to them. He lived alone in a small town further up the coast. If he lived nearby, they’d be able to make sure he was taking care of himself. As it was, her mother would travel up to see him as often as possible and stay with him when she thought he needed some help. And Regan worried that it was too much for her mother.

      With her mother at Pop’s for the next week or so, she had a child-care problem. Her other back-up, her best friend Anna, was currently overseas on a long-anticipated trip to discover her roots in northern England. She missed Anna. The boys missed Anna’s children, too. They were all good friends and until now she’d always been able to rely on Anna to pitch in and help when necessary.

      She let out a deep sigh.

      ‘Are you finished, Mum?’

      ‘No, Will. A little longer.’

      The boys exchanged a glance and she felt a pang. They’d sat still long enough and she wasn’t achieving much anyway; she was too distracted. Closing her eyes, she wondered if any of her other friends would be able to babysit for a few hours during the next week. Unlikely. They were all busy with their own lives and, besides, she hadn’t been in touch with them recently. A couple of them—girls she’d known since her schooldays—would always be friends no matter what. When they met it would be the same as always. But they lived in the city now and had their own commitments.

      Other friends were married couples she’d known while with Jack. Her divorce had shifted the emphasis of those friendships and she’d felt strange with them for a while—especially when she was the odd one out in a room full of couples. In a sense, she’d been glad of the lack-of-time excuse to stay away, but she’d like to catch up with all of them again. Now, though, when she needed a favour, was not the right time.

      In case you need a friend…

      The memory of Chase Mattner’s voice made her eyes snap open. She looked straight at the business card he’d given her. She’d intended to throw it away as soon as she’d got home from dinner that night, but something had stopped her. Instead, she’d carried it to work in her briefcase, then brought it home again and tucked it into the corner of the desk blotter in her study where it had stayed all week. And she’d thought about ringing him at least once a day.

      Could she ring him?

      Just to talk.

      She’d been shocked at how easy it was to talk to him, to open up to him. She’d almost forgotten they’d only just met. Almost. But it wasn’t every day a man like him walked into her life.

      She reached for the business card with the name of a high-profile city law firm printed in a no-nonsense typeface across the top and, for the first time, read Chase’s details.

      Partner?

      He’d been a partner? How had he managed the transition from a prestigious job like that to full-time father? And in such a place, too. She hadn’t been to Leo Bay for years but, from what she remembered, there was hardly anything to the settlement—a few beach shacks, not much more. It couldn’t even be called a small town.

      Presumably, he didn’t need to work, but didn’t he want to?

      Her hand shot out and pushed the card back into the spot it had occupied for a week.

      What was she thinking?

      She chewed on her lip. The truth was, she was thinking it would be good to talk to him again. It would be good to see him again. It would be good to have Chase Mattner as a friend.

      It had been difficult to walk away from him, but she’d reminded herself that she wasn’t a great judge of men, wasn’t any sort of a judge at all. Since that night, though, she’d remembered the break in his voice when he’d spoken about his wife, and the change in his eyes when he’d talked of his daughter, and she’d wished she hadn’t been so emphatic about not calling.

      But she’d told him she wouldn’t. What would he think of her if she changed