Читать книгу Building The Perfect Daddy - Brenda Harlen, Brenda Harlen - Страница 10
ОглавлениеRyder left shortly after that, promising to have the contract revised to reflect the terms of their verbal agreement.
Lauryn still had some concerns, but she pushed them aside and packed the kids into the van to take them to her parents’ house before her appointment with Howard Greenbaum, the loans manager at the bank. Howard and her father were old friends and she’d known the man since she was a little girl. She also knew that Howard would never let that long-term friendship affect any decisions that had to be made on the job—a fact that he confirmed before she left the bank.
When Lauryn returned to her childhood home, Zachary was napping in his playpen and Kylie was playing with some of her mother’s old dolls in front of the television in the living room—keeping Grandpa company while he watched his favorite afternoon game shows. Looking at her children now, everything seemed so normal, so right. But she was suddenly and painfully aware of how quickly their situation could change.
Still, she was lucky. She knew that no matter what else happened, her parents would never let her kids go hungry or sleep on a park bench. And while there was undoubtedly some comfort in that realization, she wanted to provide for her own family—even if she was becoming increasingly doubtful that she could.
“Is everything okay?” Susan Garrett asked when Lauryn made her way to the kitchen, where her mother was tidying up after baking cookies.
She could only shake her head.
“Do you want to talk about it?” her mother prompted.
She shook her head again, then let out a sigh.
“Actually I do,” she admitted. “But if I talk about it, I’ll fall apart, and I don’t want Kylie to see me fall apart.”
Susan pulled a glass from the cupboard, filled it with milk, then set the drink and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies on the table and instructed her daughter to sit.
So Lauryn did. And, unable to resist, she reached for a cookie and broke off a piece. The still-warm morsel flooded her mouth with the flavor of her childhood and made her yearn—almost desperately—for those simpler times when her mother could make all of her troubles go away. But she was the mother now; she had to handle her own troubles and make things right for her children.
“Are there problems at The Locker Room?” Susan asked, aware that Lauryn was trying to pull the sporting goods store back from the brink of financial disaster.
She managed a wry smile. “Aren’t there always?”
“Then something else—something more—is weighing on your mind,” her mother noted. “Have you heard from Rob?”
She shook her head. “Not a single word. And believe me, that’s a relief not a disappointment.”
“I can understand that,” Susan acknowledged. “What I can’t understand is how he could walk away from his children. Regardless of what happened between the two of you, he’s their father.”
“Apparently, that title doesn’t mean the same thing to all men,” Lauryn noted.
“Has Kylie asked about him lately?”
She shook her head. “Not in a while.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” her mother said.
“I’m sure she misses him,” Lauryn said, then reconsidered. “Or maybe not. Even when he was around, he wasn’t much of a hands-on dad.”
“So if you’re not worried about Rob,” Susan prompted.
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, you know—”
“I do know,” Lauryn interjected. “But you already do so much.”
Her mother seemed genuinely surprised by that. “What do I do?”
“You look after Kylie and Zachary whenever I need you to.”
“Honey, that’s not a favor to you but a treat for me,” Susan told her.
“I love you for saying that, but I know my kids—they’re not always a treat.”
“They are for their grandparents,” her mother insisted.
Lauryn managed a smile. “They’re so lucky to have both of you. I’m so lucky to have both of you.”
Susan lifted a hand to brush her daughter’s bangs away from her eyes. “Can you stay for dinner?”
Of course, they could. And no doubt, whatever her mother had planned for the evening meal would be better than the meat loaf Lauryn had thrown together that morning. But her parents had already been with the kids for four hours, fed them lunch and probably numerous snacks.
“Thanks, but I’ve got dinner ready to go in the oven at home.”
“We’re having roast pork with fingerling potatoes and green beans,” Susan said in a final attempt at persuasion.
“Enjoy,” Lauryn said, kissing her mother’s cheek.
* * *
When the rain finally stopped early in the afternoon, Ryder loaded up the necessary supplies and headed back to the Schulte residence. It wouldn’t take him long to tack down the tarps, and since Lauryn had said she had errands to run, he expected to complete the task and be gone before she returned.
He didn’t quite make it. He was securing his ladder into the bed of his truck when she pulled an aging minivan into the driveway beside his truck.
The Garretts were one of the wealthiest and most well-known families in Charisma. Of course, Lauryn’s last name was different, which was why he hadn’t immediately made the connection, but as soon as Kylie had mentioned the flowers and the wedding, he’d started to put the pieces together into a more complete picture. But there were still big, gaping holes in the form of the ancient van, leaking roof and outdated kitchen. He finished the tying down while she got the kids out of the vehicle and decided that, sooner or later, he would fill those holes.
He noticed that she’d changed out of the yellow T-shirt and jeans into a slim-fitting navy skirt and jacket and tucked her feet into high-heeled sandals. He also noticed that she had some pretty nice curves beneath the buttoned-up suit.
He shook his head, as if that might dislodge the unwelcome thought from his brain. She was his client—and if he expected to be able to work with her, he had no business ogling her. Not to mention that she really wasn’t his type. He preferred uncomplicated women and simple relationships—a single mother, no matter how beautiful and desirable, didn’t fit that criteria.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Wallace?” she asked.
“Ryder,” he reminded her.
“What are you doing here, Ryder?”
He smiled at the pique in her tone. “I took advantage of the break in the weather to put some tarps up.”
Her gaze shifted to the roof of the house. “You didn’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get any more rain in the castle,” he said, winking at Kylie. “And give the wood a chance to dry out so that it will be ready when the roofers are.”
“You’re really going to get my roof fixed?”
“I said I would,” he reminded her.
She nodded. “Rob used to say a lot of things, too,” she admitted. “But he didn’t follow through on many of them.”
“Home renovations aren’t as easy as a lot of people think,” he said, even as he wondered what had gone wrong in her marriage and if she was still hung up on her ex-husband.
“Well, thanks for putting up the tarps.” She started to move past him toward the house.
“Since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks, you might want to ease up on the hostility a little,” he suggested.
“I’m not—” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really bad day and I’m taking it out on you, and after you went out of your way to help me out—which I do appreciate.”
“You’re welcome.”
She started toward the door again, then hesitated. “Are you one of those people who drinks coffee all day?”
He smiled. “Is that a roundabout way of offering me a cup?”
She shrugged. “It seems the least I can do—if you’re interested.”
Yeah, he was interested, and apparently in more than just the hot beverage she was offering. The tug of attraction he felt for the home owner was more than a little disconcerting because, aside from the fact that single mothers weren’t his type, Ryder had a very strict rule against mixing business with pleasure. If he was smart, he’d say, Thanks, but no thanks, climb into his truck and head home. Maybe he’d even return Holly’s call and accept her offer of dinner—and dessert. His occasional friend-with-benefits was fun and single and, most importantly, she’d never asked for anything more than he was willing to give. Yes, he should definitely call Holly back.
“Coffee would be great,” he said instead.
Lauryn led him into the house. After setting Zachary in his playpen, she started the coffee brewing.
“I wanna dwink, too,” Kylie said, retrieving a juice box from the fridge.
“Okay,” Lauryn agreed, unwrapping the straw and inserting it into the top of the box.
The little girl took a sip, then set it aside. “Cookie?”
This time her mother shook her head. “You already had cookies at Grandma’s.”
So Kylie turned her attention to Ryder. “Cookie?” she asked hopefully, adding a smile for good measure.
He chuckled. “Sorry—I don’t have any cookies.”
The little girl pouted.
“Your coloring book and crayons are still on the table in the living room,” Lauryn told her daughter.
With an exaggerated sigh, Kylie turned toward the living room.
“You’re going to have your hands full with that one,” Ryder said to Lauryn.
“They’re full enough already,” she admitted, setting a mug of coffee and the sugar in front of him.
“How old is she?”
“Three and a half.”
“And the little guy?” he asked, glancing at the playpen where the baby had managed to pull himself to his feet and was gnawing on the frame.
Lauryn’s gaze followed his as she sat down across from him with her own mug. “Seven months and—as you can see—teething.”
He frowned. “Didn’t you say your husband left nine months ago?”
“I did,” she confirmed.
“It must have been hard on you—having the baby without him,” he noted.
She shrugged. “My sister Tristyn was there.”
“The one who forged your signature on the application?”
“I thought we were going to pretend I didn’t tell you that.”
“We were,” he acknowledged. “But then I thought that we might be able to use your sisters in the introductory segment—put them in front of the cameras and let them explain why they wanted this renovation for you.”
“They’d probably love that,” she said. “But Tristyn’s job requires her to travel a lot, so it would depend on when you planned to film the segment.”
“Monday,” he told her.
“Monday—as in five days from now?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” she admitted. “I mean—I’m still not entirely comfortable with this, but I guess Monday is as good a day as any to begin.”
“Do you think your sisters can be here?” he asked.
She shrugged again. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, they owe me—even if they don’t know it yet.”
“Hopefully, by the time we’re done, you’ll be thanking rather than blaming them,” he told her.
“Hopefully,” she agreed, then sighed when she saw Kylie slip back into the room and open a cupboard beside the fridge. “No more cookies.”
“But I’m hungwy.”
Lauryn stood up and moved to the stove, twisting a knob to turn it on. “Dinner won’t be too long,” she promised.
She took a yogurt tube out of the fridge and snipped off the top.
“Is Mister Wyder gonna have dinner wif us?” Kylie asked, taking the tube from her.
“Oh. Um.” She felt her cheeks flush as she delicately tried to wiggle out of the awkward position her daughter had put her in. “I’m sure Ryder already has plans for dinner.”
Kylie turned to him. “Do you?”
“Actually, I don’t have plans,” he told her.
“You have dinner wif us?” she asked again.
His gaze shifted from the little girl to her mother. “What are you cooking?”
“Meat loaf,” she told him, taking the already prepared pan from the refrigerator and sliding it into the oven. “With a side of mac and cheese and salad.”
She hadn’t planned on adding macaroni and cheese to the meal, but she wasn’t sure that the meat loaf and salad would stretch far enough to feed all of them if he decided to stay.
“Sounds good,” he decided.
She eyed him skeptically. “Really?”
He smiled, and she felt an unexpected warmth spread through her veins. “Well, it sounds a lot better than the pizza I probably would have ordered at home.”
“I like pizza,” Kylie told him.
“So do I,” he admitted. “But it gets kind of monotonous when you eat it four or five times a week.”
“What’s mon-tin-us?”
“Monotonous,” he said again, enunciating clearly. “And it means boring.”
Lauryn took a pot out of the cupboard and filled it with water, then set it on the stove to boil.
Although she would have been able to get two meals out of the meat loaf if she was only feeding herself and the kids, she was glad he was staying. She’d had a really crappy day and while she certainly wouldn’t have sought out any company, she was grateful for the distraction. Because as long as Ryder was there, she didn’t have to think about how spectacularly she’d screwed up her life or try to figure out how she was supposed to put all of the broken pieces back together again. As an added bonus, he was great with her kids—and, she admitted to herself, really nice to look at.
“Can I help with anything?” Ryder offered.
She shook her head. “The salad is in the fridge, the meat loaf is in the oven, and the mac and cheese will only take ten minutes after the water boils. But if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m just going to run upstairs to change into something more forgiving of sticky fingers.”
Ryder nodded.
She was gone less than three minutes, exchanging her dry-clean-only business attire for a comfortable pair of faded jeans and a peasant-style blouse. When she returned to the kitchen, he was refilling his mug of coffee from the pot.
She picked up her own abandoned cup and sat down across from him.
Ryder ran his fingers over the surface of the table. He had really great hands—a workman’s hands—strong and capable. “I noticed you’ve got a lot of quality furniture inside this house with the leaky roof, falling-down porch and ugly kitchen.”
“I took advantage of the employee discount at Garrett Furniture,” she told him.
He lifted a brow. “Not the family discount?”
“I didn’t think it would take you too long to figure it out after Kylie mentioned Justin and Avery’s wedding.”
“Did you want it to remain a secret?” he asked.
She sipped her coffee. “No. But I don’t want the Garrett name used on the show.”
“Why not?”
Because she was embarrassed enough about her financial situation, and the last thing she wanted was to cause embarrassment to her family. She knew it wasn’t easy for her parents to overlook all of the work that needed to be done in her home. More than once, her father had offered to call a handyman friend to fix the leaky plumbing in the kitchen, to replace some questionable boards in the front porch, to secure the wobbly ceiling fan in the master bedroom. Every time, Lauryn had refused because her husband had promised to take care of the problems.
It was harder to turn away her cousins when they showed up at the door, as Andrew and Nathan had done a few times. It was thanks to them that she had a secure handrail leading to the laundry room in the basement and shelves in the nursery. And the new locks on the doors were courtesy of Daniel, who had installed them within hours of learning that Rob had walked out on his family. Not that she intended to admit any of that to the man seated across the table from her now.
“Can’t you just respect my wishes on this?” she finally said.
He considered for a minute, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Well, that was easy,” she said both grateful and a little dubious.
“Did you expect me to be difficult?”
“You weren’t nearly as agreeable when I asked you to get off my property this morning,” she reminded him.
“I know you’re not thrilled about being part of the show, but everything will go much more smoothly if you accept that we’re on the same team,” he told her.
“Are we?”
“Why do you doubt it?”
She shrugged. “A lot of so-called reality TV shows are all about the conflict and drama.”
“Maybe you should watch a few episodes of Ryder to the Rescue before you sign the contract,” he advised.
“Maybe I will,” she agreed.
“In the meantime—” he nodded toward the stove “—your water is boiling.”
She hurried to open the window above the sink, to let the steamy air escape, because the range fan didn’t work. Then she opened the box of macaroni and dumped the noodles into the pot.
Ryder found plates and cutlery and set the table. She started to tell him that she would do it, because she was accustomed to doing everything on her own, then she decided that it was nice—at least this once—to have some help. Besides, while she finished the preparations for dinner, she was able to watch him move around her kitchen—and she really liked watching him move.
After making the pasta sauce, she called Kylie for dinner, then dished up her food while the little girl was washing up. She cut up some meat for Zachary and added a spoonful of macaroni, then slid his plate into the freezer while she settled him into his high chair and buckled the belt around his middle. Kylie had already climbed into her booster seat and was shoveling spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese into her mouth.
“Ketchup, please.”
Lauryn grabbed the bottle of ketchup from the fridge, shook it up and squirted a dollop onto her daughter’s plate—close to but not touching the meat—then set the bottle on the table.
“Umm umm,” Zachary was making his hungry noises and reaching toward his sister’s plate.
“Yours is just cooling off,” Lauryn promised, offering a sippy cup of milk to tide him over.
He immediately put the spout in his mouth, took a drink, then tossed the cup aside. “Umm umm,” he demanded.
Holding back a sigh, she bent to retrieve it, but Ryder had already scooped it off the floor and set it on the table. It was then she noticed that his fork was still beside his plate, his food untouched.
“Please don’t wait for me,” Lauryn told him. “Your dinner will get cold if you do.”
“No colder than yours,” he pointed out.
She opened the door of the freezer to check on Zachary’s meal. “I’m used to it. Sometimes the kids are finished before I get a chance to start.”
Satisfied with the temperature of the baby’s food, she set the plate in front of him. Zachary, like his sister, did not stand on ceremony but immediately shoved a hand into the macaroni.
Lauryn uncurled his fingers and wrapped them around the handle of the spoon she’d given to him. He held on to the utensil, then used the other hand to pick up a piece of meat. Shaking her head, she sat down at her plate and wiped her fingers on a napkin.
Only when she was seated did Ryder pick up his own fork. Not even her husband had ever waited for her to sit down before digging into his own meal, but she pushed that memory aside.
She’d taken the first bite of her dinner when the sky suddenly grew dark and she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. But it was distant—far, far away, she assured herself, stabbing her fork into a piece of meat just as the skies opened up and rain poured down.
She pushed the meat around until Ryder reached across the table and put his hand over hers. She jolted at the unexpected contact, her fork slipping from her fingers and clattering against the edge of her plate, but he didn’t pull his hand away.
“The tarps will hold,” he told her.
She nodded, grateful for his reassurance and a little unnerved that this man, whom she’d met only hours earlier, had so easily followed the direction of her thoughts. Even more unnerving was the way her skin had warmed and her pulse had leaped in response to his touch.
She slowly drew her hand away. “Did you want more meat loaf?”
“I wouldn’t mind another slice.”
She pushed away from the table and reached for his plate.
“I can get it,” he told her.
“More milk, please,” Kylie said, lifting up her empty cup.
“I can get that, too,” Ryder said, when she started to rise again.
Settling back in her seat, Lauryn forced herself to take another bite of her dinner. She blamed the rain for her loss of appetite, because she was worried about potential new leaks.
But she was more worried about the sudden and unexpected tingles she’d felt all the way to her toes when Ryder touched her.
