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More arrogance. She let out an exasperated sound as she moved away from him, standing and staring at the water, imagining what it would feel like to let it lap around her. But all the pleasure in that idea had completely evaporated for Sarah.

She heard him move, the soft rustle of clothes, and when she glanced over her shoulder, she saw he had pulled on his briefs and jeans and was staring out at the water with her.

She turned away again, not caring that she was naked. What would the point be in scrambling to pull on clothes? He’d seen her naked, and, here, they were as alone as if they were in his own bedroom. Only the birds bore witness to their act.

‘I’ve dated men before,’ she said, slowly, pleased he stayed behind her. It was easier to talk when she wasn’t looking at him, and feeling distracted by those beautiful eyes, or sculpted lips.

‘I presumed as much.’

A half-smile smudged on her lips, but it was melancholy. ‘But never seriously. Never for long.’

He grunted; she didn’t know what that meant. A moment later, he was standing at her side.

‘Growing up, Mum and I were a team. It was just her and me; I thought it would always be like that.’

‘When did she die?’ His voice had a gentleness to it she hadn’t heard before, a sympathy that pulled at her heart and made her want to cry. She dug her fingernails into her palm rather than give in to that emotion.

‘It’ll be a year in June.’

‘So, recent.’

She kept her gaze averted. ‘It’s why I came out here. I felt so completely untethered from my life. It was as though I’d been disconnected from everyone and everything I knew. The thought of picking up the threads of how I’d lived before—going back to the school I worked at, seeing friends, being in our house—it was all too strange. Too discordant, without having her there.’

‘But you were going to go home, after you’d told me about the baby?’

She did glance at him then. ‘Yes.’

‘You were ready for that?’

The question stuck in her chest. She blinked quickly, turned back to the water. ‘Probably not. Doing this without Mum,’ she said, putting a hand on her stomach. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to manage.’

A bird crowed heartily above them.

‘On the day I met you, it was a year since my dad’s death,’ Tate said, grimly. ‘He’s been gone almost fifteen months now, but I hear him in my head every day. I know what he’d think, what he’d say. He shaped me, all my life. Well, at least, all my life after he accepted that I was his.’

Cynicism tightened the words.

‘People don’t leave you just because they die. Your mother is still in here,’ he said, reaching out and putting a hand to the small of her back. She shivered for a different reason now, a warmth spreading through her.

‘Do you miss him?’ she murmured.

‘No. In fact, I wish he’d get the hell out of my head, most days.’

Her lips parted in surprise.

‘My father was a mean old bastard. In every way, I aim to be as different from him as possible. It’s why I want this to work, Sarah. But it’s not just about the baby. My dad made everyone around him miserable. He treated people as though they didn’t matter; he made us fight all the time for his approval. Even my stepmother. Living with him was like living in a house of cards. You never knew when it would collapse. I saw the impact his behaviour had on her, my brother, felt how it affected me. I swear, I will never put you through that. I want you to be happy.’

Her heart stammered at his admission, and she believed him. She heard the sincerity in his voice, and knew it was coming from deep within. But it was another red flag for Sarah, because in his kindness, she felt danger.

‘That’s the thing, Tate.’ Her voice was hoarse. She forced herself to turn properly and look at him. Really look. ‘I don’t think I want you to be nice to me.’

His brow furrowed, eyes showing confusion. She wanted to tell him she was scared that if they slept together, and he was kind to her, she might do something really stupid and start caring for him, might start wanting more. The kind of love and acceptance she’d wanted all her life—that her father had withheld from her, and made her know she wasn’t worthy of.

With any man, this would be terrifying, but with Tate, she knew it was worse. For all the reasons he’d just enumerated, he was the last man on earth to walk into a relationship. Just like her, he’d been conditioned to view feelings with caution, to protect himself.

Protecting themselves was fine, unless one of them started to forget, started to want more.

Sarah was determined it wouldn’t be her.