Page 70 of You, As You Are

“No.”

“Me neither.” Iain’s head swivelled to face her. Since he’d been so personal, Maisie gave a little more. “I don’t think that I can have them naturally, anyway.”

The endometriosis diagnosis that’d taken far too long for her to obtain had all but confirmed that. Not that it was impossible to conceive, just harder in her case.

On all of the blogs she read online, there were mothers who shared their stories. But the more that she read, the less that she minded becoming a mother or not. It wasn’t something she was desperate to do. Her eldest brother, Maks, was married with a son, and Maisie loved to spoil him, though at the end of the day she came home and was glad of the peace. Of being able to live in her own space without a tiny person needing her every second of every day.

“I’m sorry, Maisie,” Iain said softly, which was strange to hear when he looked as though he could fight a bear and win.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’ve never seen myself as being a mother one day, so the fact it might be harder for me isn’t much of a burden in my case. I know it is for other women, so …” She’d made peace with that.

“You don’t have to explain your reasons to anyone.”

She looked up at Iain, feeling as though they were touching on common ground. “Neither do you.” He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Have you dated anyone since?”

“Define ‘date’?”

Maisie squinted at him, and then her cheeks warmed.“Ah.”

“Hm.”

She wasn’t ready to have a conversation involving sex, much lessIainhaving sex. Not with the rash decision of agreeing to let him kiss heronlyif the need arose still tumbling through her bloodstream. God,whyhad she agreed to that?

Change the subject.“Where is your ex-fiancé now?” Maisie asked.

“She has a daughter. Born at Christmas.”

“That’s good for her … Just not for you.”

Iain looked at her like she’d said something wrong. “She got what she wanted – what I wouldn’t give to her. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

Maisie felt urged to say, “You just don’t seem too happy, is all.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She sniffled and rubbed at her nose. “Well maybe not with me, but with someone?—”

“I don’t want to talk about itright now,” Iain clarified.

If Maisie didn’t get the message from his firm inflection, then she did from the blade’s edge in his eyes. She’d told him she was there to listen, but it wasn’t fair to put him in a situation when he wasn’t comfortable to talk yet.It’s not your business.But she could lighten the evidently heavy load he carried on his shoulders, if he’d let her.

Iain scrubbed his hand over his face, the scratch of his palm over his dark beard quiet between them. “Are you hungry?”

Maisie was thankful for his tactfulness. She shrugged. “I could eat something.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

She’d forgotten that they’d intended to parade themselves along the promenade for the chance of one of Vera’s friends spotting them. A walk along the beach on Valentine’s Day was the most couple-y thing to do in this town.

Unfolding her legs off the sofa, Maisie stood, forgetting about the dog who’d been snoring on the rug. Tangled between her feet, Ted yelped and scampered off the floor before she could gather any kind of balance.

“Mais—”

She toppled over.

Straight into Iain’s lap.

He let out a painedoomphwhen her chin collided with the fold in his jeans. She coughed out a lungful of gagged air on impact, breasts squished between his thighs; once those had begun to let gravity take the reins, Maisie could’ve only expected the rest of her would follow.

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