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 him in somewhat stunned silence as he made his order, and returned to the table with a number on a chrome stick, which he placed between them.
‘I just asked for whatever you had again, plus a selection of cakes as I have no idea what you like. Okay?’
Ivy nodded numbly.
‘Great!’ he said. ‘So, tell me something about yourself.’
‘Pardon me?’
He shrugged. ‘You heard me.’
Ivy bristled. ‘Look, it’s great that you’re all so fine and relaxed and cool with this, but I don’t think you understand how—’
‘Ivy,’ he said, so firmly that her words froze on her tongue. ‘I promise you that I understand exactly what is going on here. It’s all I’ve thought about for four days. I dreamt about it, even, although I can’t say I’ve spent much time sleeping. I am exhausted, and stressed out of my mind. And frankly, I’m over it. I’m over feeling like that, but I can’t do anything about it. Neither can you.’
Ivy’s gaze travelled across his face, for the first time noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes and the spidery lines of red in his stare.
He’d just described her weekend, and beneath a thick layer of concealer she even had the matching blackened eyes.
‘But we’ve both decided to do this, so we might as well get to know each other. So again—tell me something about yourself.’
Tell him something?
I’m scared? I don’t know what I’m doing? I have no idea what to do with you?
‘I think that Aussie Rules football is the best game in the whole entire universe.’
And then Angus smiled. A gorgeous smile, an amazing smile.
‘So now we have two things in common,’ he said.
* * *
A selection of cakes later, Ivy stood with Angus outside the café. It was dark between the street lights, and only the occasional car swished past.
‘Where’d you park?’ Angus asked.
Ivy shook her head. ‘I didn’t. I just need to call my driver and he’ll come pick me up.’
A sudden gust of wind made her shiver, and Ivy wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
Angus took a step towards her—and for a moment Ivy thought he might put his arm around her again, as he had at the wine bar. But then he didn’t, and Ivy took a little longer than she would’ve liked to decide she was relieved.
Tonight hadn’t been as she’d planned. They’d talked about all things unimportant—the favourite football team they shared, the latest movies they’d seen, and even the weather. It had been