went perfectly still, pasting on a faux smile. She had the fleeting, horrifying thought that somehow she’d forgotten blurting out the news of her pregnancy to Holly as she’d exited the bar on Thursday night.
‘Apparently,’ April continued, ‘you were with a rather hot guy?’
So Evan hadn’t told April she’d asked for Angus’s number. She could barely remember the vague, somehow work-related excuse she’d given her brother in law, but apparently it had been plausible.
‘Oh, he was a blind date,’ Ivy said, with a dismissive smile. ‘He was nice enough, but it was a bit of a disaster, really.’ That was true, in a way. ‘No spark, you know?’
Definitely a lie.
The conversation moved on, her mum and sisters familiar enough with her occasional forays into dating to accept what she’d said.
But Ivy remained silent, quietly furious with herself.
She couldn’t have news of her pregnancy leaked until she was one hundred per cent prepared, and gossipy speculation about her and Angus would not help that cause.
She needed to be more careful.
And more importantly, she really needed to fix this.
Soon.
* * *
‘Gus! How are you, mate?’
Angus finished the last two repetitions of the set, then swivelled on the seat of the leg press to grab his towel. Cam Dunstall wore his own towel hung over his shoulders, but he clearly hadn’t begun his workout as he was the only person in the crowded barracks gym not coated in a layer of sweat.
‘Good,’ Angus said automatically.
Cam’s attention darted to his still-bandaged right wrist. ‘Going okay?’
Angus smiled at his friend’s obvious concern. They both knew if his wrist was busted, so was his SAS career. He wasn’t much use if he couldn’t use a firearm.
‘Nah, it’s no big deal,’ he said, truthfully. ‘I met with the specialist today. He’s happy with my progress. He sees no reason why I shouldn’t be back on deck within the month.’
Cam’s smile was broad and relieved. ‘Awesome news, mate. Hey, you missed out on some fun last week—middle of the night hanging out of a Black Hawk chopper. Good times.’
Cam then went into great detail about the training exercise, while Angus mopped his face and arms of sweat. He’d finished today’s workout. In fact he’d been here for the couple of hours since his doctor’s appointment.
The good news about his wrist was not unexpected. To be honest, his hand felt very near to normal now—if the doctor had let him he’d already be back at work.
So his workout was supposed to be the highlight of his day. It was Monday, four days since Ivy had dropped her bombshell.
On Friday he’d gone for a run instead, needing to be outside.
Then on the weekend he’d stayed at home, deciding that cutting back two huge branches from the towering blue gum in what was once his mother’s back garden was the best use of his time. But even two days wielding a chainsaw hadn’t helped.
And today hadn’t helped either.
He still didn’t feel normal. The exercise high he craved eluded him.
It wasn’t fair.
That made him smile. Out of all that had happened, the incredible bad luck that had plonked him and Ivy in this situation—that was what was unfair?
‘Mate?’ Cam was looking at him strangely. ‘I was just asking if you’d heard that Patrick has been moved. To training.’
Ah. A smile was certainly not appropriate here. That was no promotion.
‘He’s still not right, then?’ Angus asked, knowing that was probably the wrong way to phrase his question, but at a loss to come up with something better.
‘Yeah. That post-traumatic crap. Like Tom, I guess.’
Like Tom.
Guilt lowered Angus’s gaze momentarily. How long since he’d called him? They’d come through SAS selection together seven years ago. Tom—strong, confident, supportive, brave Tom. His closest mate. The best soldier he knew.
Or at least, he had been.
‘Some of the boys are going out for a beer tonight. Want to come?’
Cam was clearly keen to move the conversation on.
Angus got that.
But he shook his head. No. Ivy had texted him earlier, and he was meeting her for a coffee.
Not that he told Cam that, but the other man jumped to the approximately right conclusion anyway, giving him crap about choosing a girl over his mates.
So Angus laughed and let the words roll off him, wishing like hell they were true.
* * *
‘Thanks for meeting me.’
Angus raised an eyebrow as he slid into the fifties-style café booth. ‘This isn’t a business meeting, Ivy.’
She shook her head. ‘No, of course not.’
It was just easier for her to think of it like that. She’d even prepared for this meeting, in a way. Mentally determining an agenda of items to cover, so that this could be over as efficiently as possible.
She was sure Angus would appreciate that, too.
Quick, efficient and over quickly. A good plan.
‘So, I’ve got a couple of points I’d like to discuss, and I’ll start with the most important. Do you intend to be a part of our child’s life, and if so, to what extent?’
Angus didn’t even blink at her directness. ‘I intend to be the best father I can be,’ he said. ‘Which means I want to be a huge part of their life.’
Ivy nodded sharply. It was the answer she’d expected, although she couldn’t exactly say why. She was pleased, though. She’d never been close to her own father. ‘Excellent. Okay, so the next point is—’
‘Hold it there.’ Angus glanced at the coffee she’d downed in the few minutes she’d been waiting for him. ‘Now the big question is out of the way, how about I go get us both a coffee, and some cake, and we relax a bit?’
‘Relax?’
He grinned. ‘Honey, the way I see it we just agreed to another eighteen-odd years to talk about this baby. Why rush things now?’
And with that he stood, and headed for the counter.
Ivy just watched
