Anything for His Baby Page 3
“Which makes you upset,” Shep interrupted then snorted. “Come on, Cole. How whipped are you? That house is nothing. It’s a vintage eyesore.”
“It doesn’t work that way in small towns,” Cole said patiently. “Not in Crimson, anyway. People have strong ties here, Shep. You’re going to need to respect the town’s history and character as you move forward with your project. This isn’t California, and folks around here won’t take kindly to a stranger coming in and changing everything with no regard to what it means for the community.”
Shep felt his jaw tighten. He didn’t want to hear this. His job was to make money for Trinity, not to pussyfoot around the emotional whims of the town. He was here to open the ski resort, earn another feather for his cap then move on to whatever came next. Rosie yawned in his arms then blinked awake, her eyes lighting at the sight of the macaroni and cheese. Hopefully, what came next involved a full-time nanny. “Yeah, whatever.”
“You always did like to do things the hard way.” Cole pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. “I’ve got to get back. Bring Rosie over this weekend. Jase and Emily are coming for dinner on Saturday with Davey.”
“Great,” Shep said with fake enthusiasm. “Kids and babies. My favorite.”
“You’re the expert.” Cole got up and leaned forward as if to kiss Rosie’s head, then seemed to think better of it when she whimpered and shot him a death glare. “Shep Bennett, Mr. Mom. I wasn’t sure about you moving to Crimson, but the truth is I love having a front-row seat for this.”
“See ya, Uncle Cole.” Shep lifted Rosie’s chubby hand and waved it at his brother. “Don’t let the door hit you in the—” He stopped himself before swearing again then narrowed his eyes when Cole chuckled.
“See you this weekend.”
Shep’s phone rang and he checked the screen then stifled another curse when Rosie swatted at it, knocking the device from his hand. It clattered to the floor and a young man decked out in climbing gear at the table next to him bent to retrieve it.
“Dude,” the guy breathed. “Your screen shattered. Bummer.”
“Bummer,” Shep repeated, dragging in a deep breath. He wondered if he’d manage to make it to the weekend.
Chapter Three
Paige clicked off the television, her heart beating wildly as the knocking on the front door became more insistent.
The Bumblebee Bed-and-Breakfast was situated at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, the property surrounded by trees and set two hundred yards back from the road. It bordered Forest Service land on one side and the ski mountain sat beyond the yard out back.
Not that the remote location at the base of Crimson Mountain made her immune to trouble with her nearest neighbor. The Morrisons, who lived on the corner, lost their minds at the tiniest infraction of covenants or Crimson’s noise ordinance. Most recently, they’d called the cops when she and Sienna, who’d been the inn’s first and only guest so far, had a dance party one night after a pitcher of too-strong margaritas.
Paige couldn’t imagine them having a complaint with her tonight. Even with the windows open to let in the cool night breeze, noise from the television wouldn’t have drifted to their house. She’d replaced her porch light last week and pulled in the trash and recycling cans after the garbage men emptied them earlier.
There was nothing—
Was that a baby crying?
She stood, tossing aside the remote and heading for the front door. Before she started bingeing cop shows, back in the day when she missed almost an entire semester of high school because of chemo and radiation, she’d watched every movie of the week she could find on DVD. The abandoned baby, left on the doorstep...or dumpster...or near the bushes, was a classic trope in those flicks. It was difficult to imagine someone doing that now, but why else would she hear crying? It wasn’t the sound of a newborn, more of a child who was having a tantrum.
Paige opened the door to reveal Shep standing under her porch light, his daughter wailing in his arms. Rosie paused for a moment to glance at Paige, took a shuddery, hiccuping breath and then let out another sob.
“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, automatically stepping back to let the two of them into the house.
Shep’s normally full mouth tightened at the corners. “Nothing as far as I can tell. She usually only cries like this for the sitters, but tonight she woke up about an hour after I put her to bed. She started crying and hasn’t stopped since.” He shrugged. “The people next door called the landlord to complain. They were trying to sleep but the noise carries through the shared wall in the apartment.”
“Is she sick?” Paige asked, reaching out to press a hand to Rosie’s forehead. The girl screamed harder, if that was possible.
Shep shook his head. “No fever. No symptoms. She’s just upset. I don’t know what else to do.”
“So you came here?” Paige frowned. “Why?”
“Because she reached for you,” he said helplessly, bouncing Rosie. “July Fourth at the festival. She liked you. She doesn’t like anybody, and definitely not any of the nannies I’ve tried to hire. But she seemed to like you.”
“I don’t think she remembers,” Paige said mildly.
Shep closed his eyes, looking pained. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll drive her around until she falls asleep. She can’t stay awake forever.” He laughed, sounding a little hysterical to Paige. “Right?”
“Give her to me.” Paige held out her arms, belatedly remembering that she was wearing her rattiest flannel pajama bottoms, a thin T-shirt and no bra.
Shep stared at her chest for several long beats. She should be offended but it had been years since a man had taken an interest in her body. Shep definitely looked interested, which was saying something since he held a crying baby in his arms.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his face coloring. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s okay.”
Paige reached forward and plucked Rosie out of his arms, settling the screaming toddler on her hip before smoothing a finger across the girl’s dimpled cheek. “What’s the fuss about?” she asked, turning away from Shep and heading toward the hallway.
Rosie wailed, shoulders trembling as she drew in a shaky breath. “Your little throat is going to be raw with all that crying. Can you settle down for me?” Paige leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Rosie’s sweaty head. “Make me look good in front of your daddy, okay?”
Rosie kept crying, although it was softer now. Paige didn’t look back at Shep but continued to the kitchen, where she pulled a box of graham crackers off a shelf in the pantry. “How about a snack and then we’ll rock for a bit?” She talked to the girl in hushed tones as she opened the box and broke off a piece of graham cracker. Rosie took it and shoved it in her mouth, sucking hard.
Paige moved around the room, telling Rosie about her day—anything to distract the child—then pointing out architectural features of the house to the toddler and recounting the history that Paige loved so much about The Bumblebee. If Shep was listening, she wanted him to hear this. She needed him to understand why the inn was special, not just to her but to the town.
This wasn’t naiveté. She understood how change happened, how towns reinvented and rebuilt, but history mattered. The Bumblebee had been one of the first inns to open in Crimson, and she wouldn’t let the past be ignored.
Gnawing away on the graham cracker square, Rosie stopped sniffling and her breathing eventually returned to normal. She rested her head on Paige’s shoulder with a sigh.
The girl was precious, and Paige wondered again what caused her shyness and mood swings.
“You’re a miracle worker,” Shep murmured from directly behind her.
She turned to find him staring, gratitude and relief mixing in his eyes.
“Babies like me,” she said with a shrug. “Squirrels, too.”
Rosie jammed the last o
f the graham cracker into her mouth then reached for her father. Shep lifted her out of Paige’s arms with a gentle smile.
“Are you ready to head home, Rosie-girl?”
“No,” the girl said with a whimper.
“Stay for a bit,” Paige offered before Shep could argue with his daughter. She might not like Shep, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him when it was clear he was trying so hard to make things right for Rosie. “Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “A beer would be great.”
“There’s a comfy rocking chair in the family room,” Paige told him. “Rosie might like it.”
“What do you think, sweetheart?” he asked the toddler. “Are you ready to rock the night away?”
She giggled and nodded.
“Thank you,” Shep mouthed to Paige over Rosie’s head then turned and disappeared down the hall.
Paige pulled a beer from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one gulp.
Shep Bennett and his daughter as her late-night visitors. Who would believe it? She reminded herself that Shep was the enemy no matter how adorable and helpless he seemed as a father. Helpless like a lion in a flock of sheep. He wanted to bulldoze The Bumblebee, the place where all of Paige’s happiest childhood memories were housed. All he cared about was profit and easy access to the ski resort.
Shep didn’t care about Paige, even if the way he looked at her made her feel special. He probably turned that charming gaze on every woman he met. If life had taught Paige one glaring lesson, it was that the only time she’d been special was when she was sick. She couldn’t forget that because a desperate daddy made her feel important.
She carried the drinks into the family room, handed Shep the beer then took a seat on the sofa, pulling her unruly curls into a ponytail. Rosie had already fallen asleep, long eyelashes brushing her cheeks and her mouth open slightly.
“Mind if I give her a few more minutes?” Shep asked quietly. “She’s normally a great sleeper but after tonight, I’m gun-shy. If she wakes up when I transfer her to the car—”
“It’s fine.” Paige smiled, her body tingling at the intimacy of the moment. The two of them sharing a quiet interlude in her cozy house. She thumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. The house Shep had closed on today. He owned it now and could kick her out at any moment.
“Did the crying give you a headache?” One side of his mouth quirked. “Rosie has that effect on people.”
“She’s a sweetheart,” Paige countered. “I can’t figure out why she has such a problem with the babysitters you hire.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are hiring experienced babysitters, right? Not ex-strippers looking for an easier way to make some money?”
Shep took a pull from the beer bottle. “You think watching Rosie is easier than taking off your clothes while swinging your hips? That seems highly unlikely.”
“You forgot the pole.” Paige tipped her wineglass toward him. “I did a pole-dancing class once. It’s harder than it looks.”
Shep choked on the beer. “You pole dance?” He set down the beer to wipe his sleeve over his mouth.
“It was a bachelorette party for one of my college friends. I never really got the hang of it.”
“What a surprise.”
“Hey.” Paige frowned. “I let you in tonight and calmed your crying baby. Be nice.”
“You’re offended that I can’t picture you strutting your stuff on a stripper pole?”
He held up one finger. “Give me a second,” he whispered then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was humor and something else. Something that looked strangely like attraction. “Got the mental picture. I’ll tell you, darlin’, I have a great imagination.”
Heat rose to Paige’s cheeks like she was having a premature hot flash. Shep was fantasizing about her. Even if she’d put him up to it, the truth was he looked quite satisfied with whatever image he held in his brain.
“Why do you think Rosie hates your nanny candidates?” she asked, unable to resist bursting both of their bubbles. She was about as much the male fantasy type as she was a pole dancer.
His lips pressed together and his whole body tensed. Even Rosie sensed the change, because the toddler squirmed then clutched his shirtfront in one small hand.
“She had a bad experience with a sitter when she was a baby.”
“She’s still a baby,” Paige said softly.
Pain flashed in Shep’s dark eyes. He spread one big hand over Rosie’s back, like he was her human shield.
“Rosie’s mom and I broke up before Monica realized she was pregnant. It wasn’t a serious relationship to begin with—”
“You were having sex,” Paige interrupted. “That’s actually serious.”
“Right,” Shep agreed almost reluctantly. “I’d sort of forgotten that. Sorry. We’d ended things, and she didn’t bother to mention I’d become a father until Rosie was six months old.”
Paige sucked in a breath. “Oh, Shep.”
“Not that I would have been keen on the idea from the outset,” he admitted, still rocking back and forth in the old chair. “I never thought fatherhood was in the cards for me. I never wanted children. My family was messed up enough. No sense spreading the wealth with some ankle biters of my own.”
Paige made a mental note to ask Sienna about Cole and Shep’s childhood. She was afraid if she brought it up now, he’d change subjects and she wouldn’t get to hear about Rosie.
“You’re a good dad,” she told him. “I don’t even like you and I can see that you’re devoted to Rosie.”
He laughed. “As nice a compliment as I’ve ever received.”
“Why did your ex-girlfriend wait so long to tell you?”
“I don’t think she planned to share Rosie, but as it turned out motherhood was a hell of a lot harder than the stars of reality shows make it look on TV.”
“I can imagine.”
“Monica is an actress and babies are all the rage in Hollywood these days. Elaborate-themed showers, adorable clothes and expensive strollers for taking kids shopping. A baby is a cuter accessory than a yappy dog.”
Anger and disgust winged through Paige, making the hair on her arms stand on end. “Tell me that’s not how Rosie’s mother felt about her.”
“I’m not sure I understand what Monica felt,” Shep admitted with a sigh. “But when Rosie was four months old, Monica got a part in a sitcom that had been picked up by one of the major networks.”
“That’s a big break.”
“Yeah. She hired an out-of-work actor friend to watch Rosie while she was on set. Turns out one of the main reasons he was out of work was his raging cocaine addiction.”
“No,” Paige whispered.
“I’m pretty sure he took Rosie to every seedy bar on the west side of LA. When he couldn’t take her along, he’d leave her in the closet.”
Paige swallowed against the nausea rising in her throat. How could someone be so negligent with any child? Her heart broke for the precious girl in Shep’s arms.
“Monica was devastated when she found out.” Shep pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “And hysterical when she called me. It had been going on for two months. In the span of one phone call I found out I was a father and that my baby had been abused.”
Paige swiped at her wet cheeks. “There aren’t words for how sorry I am.”
He studied her, his gaze unreadable. “You’re crying,” he murmured after a moment.
“Um...yeah.” Paige sniffed. “It’s really sad and awful.”
“You’re right, of course. But you don’t know Rosie well. You have no connection to our bit of painful history.”
“I’m human, and maybe I’m a crier. Are you going to give me grief about it?”
“But you did,” Paige countered. “Obviously Rosie’s here with you, so she’s safe now.”
“Safe,” he repeated. “I can keep her safe. For now. Monica had auditioned for a movie role just before she reached out to me. She got it, left the sitcom behind and took off for New Zealand for nine months of shooting. For now, Rosie is all mine.”
“What about when your ex comes back?”
“I don’t think Monica’s interested in being a mom anymore, and Rosie isn’t interested in being left alone with a babysitter after what she went through.” He shrugged. “I took her to a child psychologist. She didn’t seem to think Rosie would remember what had happened, but somewhere inside she knows. I pushed my company to buy the ski resort because I thought a change of scenery would help both of us. I don’t know what I’m going to do if she won’t stay with a nanny. I can’t keep taking a baby to the construction site, and I have to work.”
“Crimson is a great town. You’ll find someone Rosie likes.”
“I hope so.” Shep narrowed his gaze on her. “I’m thinking that someone is you.”
Paige had just lifted the wineglass to her mouth so when her hand jerked in surprise, red liquid sloshed over the rim and down her shirt.
“Sorry,” Shep said although he didn’t sound apologetic.
She placed the wineglass back on the table and wiped at her mouth but ignored the red stain soaking into her T-shirt. “Are you crazy?”
Shep cocked a brow. “Is that a rhetorical question?”
“I’m not going to be your baby nanny,” Paige told him, taking a breath when Rosie flinched in her sleep. She continued in a softer tone, “I have a business to run, Shep. I’m busy.”
“Not for long,” he said casually, glancing around the room. “Shouldn’t you be packing?”
“I’m fighting you. Remember?”
“I can’t manage to forget when you keep reminding me.”
“Because it’s important,” she argued. “This house is important. Not just to me, but for the town. It’s historic.”