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‘You make it all sound so romantic!’
    Romance. What was that, anyway? He, like most men, had thought it meant flowers and chocolates and candlelit dinners. That much he could manage. In the five years he’d been with Sara, the one woman he’d thought of marrying without the help of a dating site, she’d tried to explain that romance was more about connecting with someone on a deeper level, about seeing into someone’s soul. He’d nodded and looked thoughtful and, although he’d tried hard to understand, he’d had the funny feeling he’d missed the point. Even though he’d connected to the best of his abilities she’d still walked away, telling him it wasn’t enough. The truly tragic thing was that he honestly didn’t know what he could have done differently.
    Noah stared out of the plate glass window at the front of the shop. It was raining hard now, fat drops bouncing off the road and swirling down the gutters. That kind of romance was the last place to start if you wanted a successful relationship.
    When he looked back at Grace that cheeky eyebrow rose again. How could she say so much with one small twitch of a muscle?
    ‘Don’t you believe in fate, in destiny?’ she asked.
    Noah didn’t even have to stop and think about that one. ‘No.’
    ‘So it’s all just down to random events and chemical reactions, then?’
    ‘Well, partly…at least, I think that’s what sexual attraction boils down to, but we’re not just talking about that. Choosing someone to spend your life with is about more than chemistry, surely? Why? Do you believe in fate?’
    Grace put her cup down and looked at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know…It’s comforting to think that love isn’t just some random genetic thing. Where’s the magic in that?’
    Uh-oh. If she was looking for magic, she was barking up the wrong tree. He didn’t do magic any more than he did romance. Loyalty, honesty, sheer bloody-mindedness—he had those things in spades, but there wasn’t any fairy dust involved. It was just the way he was made. Time to get things back on firmer ground. Time to return to facts and figures and things a man could quantify.
    ‘Why did you join Blinddatebrides.com?’
    Grace looked at the ceiling and shook her head. ‘Actually, I’d never heard of the site before this morning. Someone else joined on my behalf and I’m going to kill her when I get my hands…’ She bit her lip and grimaced. ‘Sorry. That didn’t sound the way I meant it to. I didn’t want to imply that I regret meeting you.’
    ‘Of course you didn’t.’
    He liked the way she didn’t filter her words.
    ‘Maybe I’ll let her off with dunking her in the old horse trough on the common…Now that I’ve discovered having a blind date isn’t quite as horrendous as I anticipated.’
    The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I’m flattered. Me having such fine teeth, and all. You will tell your friend about the teeth, won’t you?’
    Grace put down her coffee cup. ‘Oh, it wasn’t a friend who set me up. It was my daughter.’
    His stomach plummeted just that little bit further. He hadn’t even considered that Grace might have children. She just looked too…And he was useless with kids. His friends’ kids only tolerated him when he visited because, on occasion, he could be coaxed into letting them ride on his shoulders. Any attempts at communication just fell flat. They would stare at him with their mouths open as if he were an alien life form. No, Noah and kids just didn’t mix.
    ‘You have a daughter?’ he asked, consciously trying to keep his tone light.
    She nodded. ‘Daisy. Nineteen—the age when she thinks Mama doesn’t know best any more and is doing her best to organise my life to her liking.’
    See? Nineteen was better. He might be able to manage children—well, young adults—at that age.
    ‘So, you’re divorced?’
    She shook her head. ‘Widowed.’ Her hand flew up. ‘Don’t give me the look!’
    He blinked. What