Читать книгу Building The Perfect Daddy - Brenda Harlen, Brenda Harlen - Страница 11
ОглавлениеMeat loaf and macaroni and cheese seemed to Ryder like a traditional family meal, but he couldn’t be certain. He’d grown up in a family that was anything but traditional, with two parents who spent more time at their respective jobs than at home and happily abdicated responsibility for the upbringing of their children to the nanny.
He and Avery had been lucky there, because Hennie had been wonderful. Right up until Ryder was twelve and Avery fifteen, when George and Cristina—long divorced but still making such decisions together—had concluded that their children didn’t need a caregiver anymore.
Spending time with Lauryn and her children was almost like entering a whole new world—and not one in which he felt entirely comfortable. He was accustomed to eating alone, and usually in front of the television. Except when his sister took pity on him and invited him over for a meal. He appreciated those invitations for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that Avery was a fabulous cook. He also suspected that those invitations would be fewer and further between now that his sister had a husband and a baby.
By the time Zachary had finished all of his meat and noodles, his face and fingers were covered with cheese sauce. He even had bits of ground beef and macaroni in his hair.
“I think someone needs a bath,” Lauryn said, when she took his empty plate away.
“Zach!” Kylie declared.
“Well, Zachary’s going to get his first,” her mother agreed.
“Why don’t Kylie and I tidy up the kitchen while you clean up the little guy?” Ryder suggested.
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I don’t mind,” he told her, because it seemed only fair that he should do something to show his appreciation for the delicious meal. On the other hand, he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that was itching to make his escape from this unfamiliar yet somehow temptingly cozy situation.
The whole dinner scene had been a little too domestic for him—and a lot outside his comfort zone. Being around the sexy single mom and her adorable kids was creating some unfamiliar and unwelcome feelings.
Attraction was a simple emotion, and he had no trouble recognizing and acknowledging his attraction to Lauryn. It was the other stuff that was getting all tangled up inside of him. Because aside from the fact that she turned him on, there were a lot of reasons that he simply liked her. She was smart and warm and kind, and it was readily obvious that she doted on her kids.
And that was the crux of the problem right there—she had children. Children were a complication and Ryder didn’t want complications in his life. At least he never had before.
But since his sister had gotten married and had had her baby and he’d seen how those new bonds had enriched her life, he’d begun to wonder if there wasn’t something to be said for familial connections.
He’d always admired Avery’s intelligence and drive and ambition. But since she’d fallen in love with Justin Garrett, he saw something in her that he hadn’t before: joy. It was almost as if there had been a piece missing from her life, but she’d never known it until she met him.
Ryder wasn’t looking for anyone to complete him. He was perfectly content with his life. Yet, spending time with Lauryn and Kylie and Zachary tonight, he found himself wondering if maybe he wasn’t ready for something more.
Uncomfortable with those feelings, he pushed them aside to be considered at a later date—or preferably not at all.
“I think you should stop arguing with me,” he said to Lauryn now, “and get Zachary in the bath before he falls asleep in his high chair.”
She shifted her attention to the baby, whose chin was against his chest, his eyelids visibly drooping. “That’s a good plan,” she agreed, unhooking the tray and then lifting him out of his seat.
As soon as she picked him up, Zachary rubbed his face against her shoulder, leaving a smear of cheese sauce on her shirt. Lauryn either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and for some reason he found that incredibly appealing.
Most of the women he’d dated over the past few years had been preoccupied with their clothes and hair and makeup, and he found it tiresome to date a woman who rushed off to reapply her lipstick after a meal or was constantly fluffing her hair or adjusting her hemlines. Of course, he’d never dated someone with kids, and he suspected it was natural for a woman’s priorities to change when she became a mother—his own being an obvious exception.
Kids were loud and messy and demanding, and he already knew that was true of both Kylie and Zachary. They were also innocent and trusting and adorable. And while he’d been immediately charmed by the little girl who was full of energy and curiosity, and undoubtedly intrigued by the little boy who seemed to see everything but say nothing, he decided that it would be smart to take a step back. Maybe even two.
Because Lauryn and Kylie and Zachary were a family, and he was a contented bachelor with no desire to change that status.
Wasn’t he?
* * *
At eleven o’clock on Saturday, Lauryn met both of her sisters at the Morning Glory Café for brunch. After Lauryn had married Rob, she’d discovered that she didn’t get to see Jordyn and Tristyn nearly as often as she used to, and that was how the monthly “Sisters’ Saturday” tradition began.
“I had an interesting visitor Wednesday morning,” Lauryn said, sprinkling pepper on the home fries that accompanied her scrambled eggs and sausage.
“Who?” Jordyn asked, drowning her pancakes in syrup.
“Can’t you guess?”
Tristyn stabbed a piece of melon with her fork. “Is it someone that we know?”
“It turns out that there is a loose familial connection.”
“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Jordyn admitted.
“Ryder Wallace.”
Tristyn’s fork slipped from her fingers. “Ryder to the Rescue?”
Lauryn nodded. “Apparently the home renovation expert is Justin’s new wife’s brother.”
“I knew that,” Tristyn admitted, picking up her utensil again.
“But why was he at your house?” Jordyn asked, her tone equal parts curious and cautious as she cut into a pancake.
“That’s what I wondered—and then he told me that my application was selected as one of the grand prize winners in WNCC’s Room Rescue contest.”
“Oh, my God!” Tristyn practically squealed with delight. “That is so awesome.”
“And surprising, considering that I never submitted an application,” Lauryn pointed out. “In fact, I’d never even heard of the contest. So imagine my surprise when he showed me the application with my name and signature on it.”
Her sisters exchanged a look.
“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story,” Jordyn began.
“I can’t wait to hear it,” Lauryn told her.
“Obviously you know it was us,” Tristyn said, stirring her yogurt and granola. “And we’re not going to apologize, because somebody had to do something.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because we never expected that our—your—application would actually be chosen,” Jordyn admitted.
“But it was,” she pointed out. “And I felt like a complete idiot when Ryder Wallace showed up at my door and I had absolutely no idea why he was there.”
“I can see how that might have been a little awkward,” Jordyn conceded.
“It was more than a little awkward.”
“Is he as hot in person as he is on TV?” Tristyn asked curiously.
She’d followed Ryder’s advice and decided to watch a few episodes of his show. As a result, she could answer her sister’s question sincerely. “Much hotter.”
“Damn, I wish I’d been there.”
Lauryn couldn’t deny that there was an indescribable something about the man that any woman would find appealing. He was strong and sexy and incredibly charismatic, and after only a few hours in his company, she was halfway toward a serious infatuation. Of course, after being married to a man who didn’t know how to hang a picture on the wall, it probably wasn’t surprising that she’d be intrigued by a take-charge guy who owned his tools and knew how to use them. “You can be there Monday.”
“What’s Monday?” Jordyn asked, smiling her thanks to the waitress who refilled her mug with coffee.
“The whole crew is coming to the house on Monday and Ryder wants the two of you to explain, on camera, why you submitted the application for me,” she told her sisters.
“Then he is going to remodel your kitchen?”
“And fix a few other things,” she acknowledged.
“Why don’t you sound more excited?” Tristyn asked. “You’re finally going to get rid of those ugly cupboards and even uglier linoleum.”
She swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “With the added bonus of a bunch of strangers traipsing through my house.”
“They’re not going to be there forever,” Tristyn pointed out. “Just long enough to give you a fabulous kitchen makeover—which you’ve wanted since you bought that place.”
“I know. But I thought...” She sighed. “I thought Rob and I would do it.”
There was silence for a moment before Jordyn cautiously asked, “Do you...miss him?”
“No,” she replied, a little ashamed to admit that it was true. But her ex-husband had stopped being a factor in her life long before he walked out on their marriage.
“Good.”
Her eyes widened in response to the vehemence in her sister’s tone.
“I’m sorry,” Jordyn said. “But none of us ever thought he was good enough for you.”
“I thought he was perfect—and I felt so lucky that he picked me.”
“You are lucky,” Tristyn said. “Because you got two wonderful kids out of the deal.”
“And because you’ve got the two best sisters in the world,” Jordyn chimed in.
Lauryn smiled. “You’re right—on both counts.”
“And you get to spend the afternoon at Serenity Spa with those sisters,” Jordyn added.
She shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry, I can’t go today.”
“What do you mean—you can’t go?” Tristyn demanded.
“I don’t have the time...or the money,” she admitted.
“It’s a Garrett sisters’ tradition,” Jordyn reminded her. “And we’re not letting you skip out on it—again.”
Lauryn looked away. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I had an appointment at the bank on Wednesday and discovered that my financial situation is even more dismal than I realized.”
“How dismal?” Tristyn asked gently.
“The business is mortgaged to the hilt.”
“But you knew that,” Jordyn reminded her. “That’s why you should sell it, or let the bank take it and all of the headaches that go with it.”
“I was starting to see the benefits of that plan,” Lauryn admitted. “Until I found out the business also has a secured line of credit.”
Her sisters exchanged another look, this one confirming that they’d both guessed how it was secured.
Jordyn winced. “Oh, no.”
“The house,” Tristyn whispered.
Lauryn nodded and pushed her plate away, her appetite gone.
“But how is that possible?” Jordyn wondered. “Wouldn’t Rob have needed you to sign any paperwork?”
“Signatures can be forged,” Tristyn reminded her, looking guilty because they’d done exactly that for the Room Rescue.
“They can,” Lauryn agreed. “But he didn’t forge my signature.”
“You didn’t—you wouldn’t—jeopardize your home,” Jordyn asserted.
“You’re right—I wouldn’t. At least not knowingly. But I did sign the papers,” she admitted. “Based on the date of the application, when Kylie was about three months old.”
“And colicky,” Tristyn remembered.
She nodded. “I remember Rob came home early one day with flowers. That should have been a clue, because he never came home early. Or with flowers.
“He told me that the business was doing well, but there was some new vendor—I don’t remember whether it was equipment or apparel—but they were offering him exclusive retail rights for the area if he could commit to carrying the entire line in his inventory. He said that he’d been to the bank to get a loan and, because he was married, they wanted my signature, too.”
She looked away, embarrassed and ashamed that she’d been so foolish. “I just signed the papers where he told me to. I didn’t even read them.
“And now—” she fought against the tears that burned behind her eyes “—if I let the bank foreclose on the business, they could take the house, too.”
“Then we need to come up with a plan to save the business,” Jordyn said.
“And since my brain functions much better when I’m relaxed, we’ll brainstorm some ideas after the spa.”
“I already told you, I can’t—”
“You can’t say no,” Tristyn interjected. “Mom made all the arrangements—and paid for it.”
Lauryn sighed. “She shouldn’t have done that.”
“She didn’t just do it for you, but for all of us. Because she knows how much we all enjoy the monthly ritual.”
Because it was true—and because she loved being with the women who weren’t just her sisters but her best friends—Lauryn gave up her protest.
* * *
Sweet Serenity Boutique & Spa was located in a renovated three-story Colonial Revival home in Northbrook, offering different services on different levels. The three sisters were on the lower level now, continuing their conversation as they perused the selection of polishes for their pedicures.
“I had no idea things were as bad as they are at the store,” Lauryn confided. “Rob didn’t let me see the books. He said it was because he wanted to take care of the business, to prove that he could take care of us.”
“And a piss-poor job he did of both,” Jordyn said bluntly.
Lauryn could only nod. “But I loved him. Maybe I was naive but, for a long time, I really did love him.”
“I know you did,” Tristyn said sympathetically.
“And you’ll fall in love again,” Jordyn told her.
“Jesus, I hope not,” Lauryn said.
Her recently—and happily—married sister frowned. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Because I have no desire to repeat past mistakes.” She sipped from her glass of cucumber-and-lime-infused spring water.
“You wouldn’t,” Jordyn said confidently. “Your relationship with Rob was a learning experience.”
“Most importantly, I learned that I don’t need a man to complete my life.”
“As if he ever did,” Tristyn remarked dryly.
“I didn’t think I’d fall in love again,” Jordyn confided. “I didn’t think I could. And then I met Marco.”
Lauryn couldn’t help but smile at that. Marco Palermo had fallen head over heels for Jordyn and immediately set his sights on winning her heart—not an easy task. Four years earlier, Jordyn had been only weeks away from her wedding when her fiancé was killed in a car crash. As a result, she’d put up all kinds of barriers around her heart, refusing to let any man get too close. Until Marco.
While he wasn’t at all the type of guy that Lauryn would have expected to steal her sister’s heart, he was absolutely perfect for her. And they were perfect together. Lauryn was thrilled for both of them, and just a little bit envious. Because when she was with Jordyn and Marco, she realized that she’d never shared that kind of soul-deep love and connection with her own husband. But even as she lamented that fact, she wasn’t looking for the same thing now—she had more important concerns.
“I just want my kids to be safe and happy and know that I love them.”
“They are and they do,” Jordyn assured her. “And while that’s a legitimate and even admirable goal, you can’t live your life for your children.”
“Why don’t we table this discussion until you have kids of your own?” Lauryn’s tone was a little harsher than she’d intended, but neither of her sisters really understood what she was going through. They couldn’t know the joy that filled her heart every time she looked at her children—or how much pressure she felt always trying to do what was best for them.
Thankfully, Jordyn wasn’t offended by her sharp retort. And the thought of a baby—Marco’s baby—was enough to make her deep green eyes go all misty and dreamy.
Unfortunately, Tristyn wasn’t so easily distracted. “But what do you want?” she asked Lauryn.
I want to not worry that my bank card is going to be declined at the gas station because I just bought diapers and formula.
Not that she would admit as much to her sisters. Telling them about the business was one thing; whining about her personal finances was something else entirely. Her mistakes were her own and she was determined to fix them on her own. Of course, now that the bank had rejected her proposal, her options had gone from limited to almost nonexistent, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“Well, I have been thinking about making some changes in my life,” she finally confided. “Maybe dyeing my hair to test the old adage about blondes having more fun.”
Her sisters exchanged a look, and she knew they were both thinking of Roxi—the perky blonde yoga instructor that Lauryn’s husband had run off with.
“Or red,” she said, because the color didn’t matter as much as the change it would symbolize.
Tristyn shook her head. “Do you remember when I went red—or tried to? It took my stylist three hours to undo what I’d done, and he made me promise that if I ever wanted a drastic change I would stick to the color on my toes.”
Lauryn looked at the pale pink and white polishes she’d chosen for her standard French pedicure.
Tristyn handed her the bottle of sparkly purple that she’d selected. “Go wild,” she advised. “But in a way that won’t do any long-term damage.”
Lauryn looked at the color—equal parts intrigued and wary—and decided it was time to step out of her comfort zone. At least a little.