Читать книгу The Widow's Bachelor Bargain - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 8

Chapter Two

In Sloan’s opinion, Danielle Potter was the spitting image of her mother, minus the wariness in her big brown eyes. Or maybe it was sadness. Losing a husband must have been rough, especially the part where she was raising a child on her own. He set the little girl down on the patio and her feet had barely touched the ground before she headed for the grass, still wet with morning dew. It was early March, not quite spring, and a bit chilly. But the sun was shining in a clear blue sky that promised a beautiful day ahead.

He’d never before been responsible for a child. Ever. How hard could it be? Glancing around the big yard made him glad it was fenced in and the wrought iron bars were too close together for the toddler to squeeze through. He knew because that was the first thing she tried. After a quick check, he was satisfied that the gates on either side were secure and there would be no escape that way.

Sloan watched her squat and touch something with her tiny, probing finger. Bug? Snake? In two long strides he was beside her. “Whatcha got there, Shorty?”

She pointed to something he couldn’t see and a stream of unintelligible sounds came out of her mouth. The expression on her face said she was looking for an appropriate response from him, but he had nothing. That happened when the party with whom you were conversing spoke a foreign language known only to herself, and possibly her mother.

“Is it grass?” He looked closer, hoping there was no dangerous, venomous creature lurking that would force him to do something manly, like deal with it.

She shook her head, then stood and toddled over to an area with bushes surrounded by bark chips to set it off from the grass. He was almost sure he’d heard somewhere that bugs collected in this environment, and it seemed like a bad idea to let her continue to explore unchaperoned.

Glancing around, he saw a brightly colored swing set with a slide and climbing equipment all rolled into one. Clearly it was there for Danielle’s pleasure, so maybe he could channel her attention in that direction. And away from insect central.

He scooped her up in his arms, which set off instant rebellion. Sloan’s response to this was a revelation. Size and strength were on his side and ought to count for something but really didn’t. He would give her anything she wanted to make her happy.

“Want to go on the slide?” He held her high above him, pleased when she giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He set her at the top of the thing. It wasn’t that high, but he was loath to let go and give her over to the unpredictability of gravity. It was remarkably astonishing to him how powerful his urge was to protect this small girl he’d voluntarily taken responsibility for. He held on to her as she slid down the short slide, then helped steady her at the bottom.

“Again,” she said very clearly.

“Okay. And we have a winner.” The sense of accomplishment he experienced at pleasing her wasn’t all that dissimilar from the satisfaction he felt at overcoming a particularly challenging construction problem.

Sloan set her at the top of the structure and held on a little more loosely this time, although he was ready to scoop her up if the situation went south. Fortunately it didn’t.

She grinned up at him and said, “Again.”

“Your wish is my command, milady.”

But before he could lift her up, the back door opened and Maggie stood there.

“Mama. Cookie,” Danielle said, toddling over to her mother.

“Breakfast first.” She met his gaze and there was a dash of respect in hers. “It’s ready. Thanks to you for entertaining her.”

“The pleasure was mine.” He truly meant that. “I enjoyed hanging out with her.”

“You’re very good with her. Do you spend a lot of time with kids?”

“Actually, no. That was a first for me,” he admitted.

“So you’re a natural. Someone should alert the paparazzi,” she teased.

“Oh, please no. I’ll give you anything to keep my secret.”

“You might change your mind after breakfast. And you must be starving. Everything is on the dining room table. Help yourself.” She grabbed up her daughter and settled the child on her hip. “I’ll get this one fed in the kitchen. So you can have some peace and quiet. If you’re interested, I’ve set out newspapers—local and national.”

“Thanks.” Sloan was less interested in newsprint than he was the sight in front of him—the beautiful young mother snuggling her rosy-cheeked toddler close.

He understood her struggle to make a home for boarders while carving out a private space for her own family, but would rather have filled a plate and followed the two of them to the kitchen.

That was different.

* * *

An hour later, after changing out of his banana-slimed shirt into a clean one, Sloan drove into the parking lot of the O’Keefe Building, where his cousin Burke had rented office space. Maggie’s brother, Brady, had built the place for his tech company’s corporate office. At this point there was more room than he needed for his business, so he leased out the extra space. Sloan figured since he’d be working under the same roof as Brady, their paths would cross, and he was looking forward to meeting Maggie’s brother.

Having visited on more than one occasion, Sloan knew where his cousin’s office was located. After pushing the button for the correct floor, he rode the elevator up. The car stopped and the doors opened into a spacious waiting area. There was a reception desk straight ahead where Burke’s assistant, Lydia, normally sat. She wasn’t there now, so he walked over to the closed door, knocked once, then went inside.

“Hey, Burke, I—”

Sloan stopped dead in his tracks. His cousin was there, all right, holding a beautiful brunette in his arms while kissing her soundly. He recognized the lady. Sydney McKnight, Burke’s fiancée. The scene in front of him was different from the usual all-work-all-the-time environment, and Sloan was beginning to wonder if he’d taken a tumble down the rabbit hole. His morning had started off with him entertaining a two-year-old before breakfast—not what normally happened in the five-star hotels he frequented, although not altogether objectionable, either. He’d been complimented on everything from his business expertise to the length of his eyelashes. But never had a flattering remark pleased him more than Maggie saying he was good with kids.

Now he’d accidentally intruded on a private moment. Instead of looking embarrassed, Burke proudly held on to his woman and grinned.

“Sloan,” he said, “welcome to Blackwater Lake. You know Sydney.”

“I do.” He closed the door and moved closer to the desk, a little surprised his cousin hadn’t brushed aside all the files and paperwork to have Sydney right there. Then again, Burke was a professional and would never do anything to compromise his employees or the woman he loved...no matter how much the intense expression in his blue eyes said he wanted her. “Hi, Syd.”

“Sloan.” She managed to wriggle out of Burke’s arms and stood beside him, her cheeks a becoming shade of pink. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Mostly. But he was feeling a little weird about this encounter and not entirely sure why. “Do I need to ask how you two are?”

“Spectacular,” Sydney said, gazing up with love in her eyes at the man next to her, then back to him. “Very glad to see you.”

“I doubt that,” Sloan said, “but I’ll play. Why are you glad to see me?”

“My reasons are purely selfish.” She shrugged.

“You mean, it has nothing to do with you pining after me?” he teased.

“Sorry.” She glanced up at her fiancé. “With you here, Burke will have help shouldering the workload and maybe have more time for me.”

“Ah.”

“You know if I were single I’d do it for you, cuz.” Burke looked and sounded like the soul of innocence, but it was an act.

“You’re full of it.” Sloan met his cousin’s gaze. “But because I like Sydney, I’m happy to pick up any slack so the two of you can have couple time.”

“Family time, really,” Burke amended. “We try to include Liam as much as possible.”

Sloan knew Burke and his son, Liam, had been through a rough patch when they moved to Blackwater Lake. Syd had been a bridge over troubled waters. But that had worked both ways when Burke had helped to convince her widower dad that she didn’t have to be settled in a relationship before he could move on with his life. As it happened, the two of them had ended up falling in love and Burke had proposed a couple of months ago at her father’s wedding to Loretta Goodson, the mayor of Blackwater Lake, Montana.

“How’s Liam adjusting?” Sloan asked.

“Great.” Burke looked thoughtful. “He’s got friends. He’s playing sports and doing well in school.”

“That’s good to hear.” Sloan heard an edge to the words and hoped no one else had. It wasn’t that he begrudged his cousin’s happiness, but this whole perfect-life, happily-ever-after thing was starting to make his teeth hurt.

“Well,” Syd said, “I have to get to work. My boss is very demanding.”

Sloan knew she worked for her dad at the family-owned garage in downtown Blackwater Lake. Even if he hadn’t, her khaki pants and matching shirt with a McKnight Automotive logo on the pocket would have been a clue.

Burke leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Have a great day. Say hi to your dad for me.”

“Will do.” She walked to the door. “See you later, Sloan.”

“Right. ’Bye, Syd.”

When they were alone, he sat in one of the chairs facing his cousin’s desk. “She’s too good for you, Burke.”

“Don’t tell her that. I want to pull the wool over her eyes until we’re married and she’s stuck with me.” He stared longingly at the door where she’d disappeared. “All I can do is my damnedest every day to be the best man I can be and make her happy.”

If he had any doubts about his cousin’s commitment to Sydney, they would have disappeared at the lovelorn expression on his face. Sloan had mixed feelings. On one hand, he was very glad to see Burke so happy. On the other, he knew this signaled the end of any bachelor-type fun with his best friend.

And suddenly it hit him what had been bothering him since walking in on Syd and Burke. He felt as if he was on the outside looking in. Alone. Lonely and a little bit envious. What a shallow bastard he was, with a healthy dose of selfishness thrown in for good measure.

Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to hanging out with Burke and doing what bachelors did. Commitment changed everything and for Burke’s sake, he hoped it was for the better. For Sloan’s sake, it wasn’t, but he couldn’t help thinking about his luscious landlady and the until-death-do-us-part vow she’d made to the man she’d loved and lost. Had it been worth the price she’d paid and was still paying?

That thought made him more curious than he wanted to be about Maggie Potter.

* * *

In her office above the Harvest Café, Maggie stared at the spreadsheet displayed on her computer monitor. A few minutes ago the numbers had all looked good, but now she couldn’t tell. Her eyes were starting to cross and everything blurred together.

When her vision cleared, she glanced at her watch and couldn’t believe it was already two-thirty in the afternoon. On top of that, she hadn’t eaten lunch. Downstairs the noon rush was probably over, making this a good time to grab some food.

She took the stairway right outside her office and walked down to the first floor, entering the café through a back entrance into the kitchen. The bowls, plates and utensils in the stainless-steel sink and on food preparation areas showed signs of exactly how rushed the rush had been, and it was good news for their bottom line. Her partner was standing in the doorway between front and back, keeping an eye out for customers.

“My head is about to explode,” Maggie said. “Any chance of getting something to eat?”

Lucy Bishop smiled the smile that could have put her on magazine covers in swimsuits if her career path had taken her in that direction. Fortunately for Maggie, her friend was more interested in business than bikinis. She was a gorgeous, blue-eyed strawberry blonde who was forever being underestimated by men. It was immensely entertaining to watch them swallow their tongues and lose brain function in her presence.

“How about one of my world-famous chicken wraps with the secret sauce?”

“I don’t expect you to wait on me. You’ve been busy, too. I’ll make something myself.”

“Keep protesting,” Lucy said. “By the time you run out of steam I’ll have your order up.”

Maggie heard the words but they didn’t register. Her attention was focused on the sidewalk outside the café and the man who’d just parked his Range Rover in a space out front.

Sloan Holden.

The problem with taking a break from hard work was that there wasn’t anything to distract you from things you’d been deliberately not thinking about. Like seeing this big, strong man being gentle and protective with her daughter that morning. She couldn’t reconcile that man with the one who was a global heartbreaker.

The real question was why she didn’t want to think about him, and the best answer she could come up with was that he unsettled her.

“Maggie?”

“Hmm?” She looked at Lucy. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I’m making you a wrap.” Her partner automatically looked over when the door opened and Sloan walked in. She made a purring sound and said, “Right after I have that man’s baby. Holy Toledo, he’s a fifteen on a scale of one to ten.”

“And he’s my newest boarder.”

“Sloan Holden?” Lucy lowered her voice but turned her back on the newcomer just to make sure he didn’t hear.

“That’s him,” she confirmed.

“You have to introduce me.”

“Of course,” Maggie said, then the two of them walked over to where he stood by the sign that politely asked customers to wait to be seated. “Hi.”

“Maggie.” His gaze slid to her partner. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about the food here and decided to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

“They’re true,” Maggie confirmed. “And that is all due to the culinary skills of my business partner. Sloan Holden, this is Lucy Bishop.”

“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Lucy shook it. “The pleasure is all mine. Isn’t it a little late for lunch? Or is this an early dinner?”

“Lunch. I lost track of time.”

“I always say it takes a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.”

Maggie watched Lucy give him the smile that had made many a man putty in her hands, but Sloan didn’t bat an eye.

“Then, label me a moron because that’s the best excuse I can come up with,” he said.

“You’re in good company.” Lucy met her gaze. “Maggie just surfaced, too, and realized she hadn’t eaten.”

“Then, you should keep me company. I hate to eat alone,” he said. “And we dim-witted workaholics should stick together.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m just going to take something back to my desk.”

“I don’t recommend that.” He raised an eyebrow. “A break from work is food for the soul. That’s just as important as nutrition for the body.”

There was no graceful way out of this, so she was better off just sucking it up. “You’re right. Let’s sit over there.”

The place was empty of customers at the moment and Maggie pointed to a table in a far corner that wasn’t visible through the front window. She grabbed a couple of menus and followed him. He was wearing dark slacks and a pale yellow dress shirt, different from the one her daughter had streaked banana on early this morning.

She was very proud of the way the café had turned out. The interior was decorated in fall colors—orange, gold, green and brown. The walls had country touches: an old washboard, shelves with metal pitchers and pictures of fruit and vegetables. It was cozy and comfortable. But probably light-years from the places Sloan went to.

They sat at a small round table covered by a leaf-print tablecloth. Two sets of utensils wrapped in ginger-colored napkins rested on either side.

After looking over the choices, he met her gaze. “What do you recommend?”

“Everything.” She smiled. “Obviously I’m prejudiced, but even the vegetarian selections are yummy. But my favorite is the chicken wrap. Lucy makes a dressing that is truly unbelievably good.”

“Sold,” he said.

When Lucy came over, they both ordered it and she promised to bring them out in a few minutes.

Maggie was watching Sloan’s face when Lucy walked away and saw the barest flicker of male appreciation. She felt a flicker of something herself and wasn’t sure what to call it. Envy? A visceral response? Whatever the label, she didn’t especially like the feeling and wanted to counteract it.

“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

Sloan met her gaze. “Yes, she is.”

“This small town is probably very different from what you’re used to.” Maggie knew that for a fact just from reading tabloid stories about him. “It can be lonely.”

“There’s lots of work to keep me busy.”

“I heard somewhere that breaks from work are food for the soul as important as nutrition for the body.”

His expression was wry. “Remind me to be careful what I say to you.”

“My point is—and I do have one—you should ask Lucy out,” she said.

“Oh?” There was curiosity in his expression, but he also looked amused.

“Yes. She’s beautiful and smart. Not to mention an awesome cook.”

“Until our food arrives, I’ll have to take your word on her culinary ability. And we barely spoke, so it was hard to tell whether or not she’s smart. But she is very pretty.”

“So ask her out.” The little bit Lucy had said was a big clue that she wouldn’t say no. Maggie unrolled the silverware from her napkin and set it on the table.

“Why should I?” he asked.

“She’s single. And so are you.” She settled the cloth napkin in her lap. “Unless you’re dating someone.”

“I’m not.” He met her gaze. “But it’s a well-documented fact that I’m a confirmed bachelor.”

“I have read that you have a reputation for quantity over commitment. But Lucy isn’t looking for Mr. Right.”

“Any particular reason?”

Yes, but Maggie had no intention of saying anything about that to Sloan, mostly because she didn’t know why. Instead, she countered, “Any particular reason you won’t commit?”

For the first time since he’d walked into the café the amiable and amused expression on his face cracked slightly. She’d struck a nerve, and that was annoying because she hadn’t thought he had any.

“Why does any man resist committing?” he said, not really answering.

“Good question. Color me curious. And all the more determined to convince you to ask Lucy out on a date.”

“For the life of me, I can’t figure out what your stake is in my personal life.”

“That’s because you don’t understand the fundamental dynamics of female friendship.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Communication and sharing,” she said. “I’m curious about the man behind the tabloid headlines. Lucy could find out so much if you’d take her out to dinner. And she would tell me everything.”

“Since you’re the inquiring mind who wants to know, why don’t I cut out the middleman—or woman—and just take you out to dinner.”

“Really?” She stared at him. “A widow with a small child?”

“Neither of those things means you can’t go out with me. You may have heard. There are these handy-dandy people called babysitters.”

That would only address the problem of what to do with Danielle when Maggie went out. She would still be a widow. But she had one irrefutable argument left.

“Look, Sloan, we both know I’m not the type of woman you go out with. In fact, just the opposite. I’m a businesswoman and mother.”

“True.” His eyes narrowed on her. “But what if this is a conscious choice on my part to date a woman who is the polar opposite of my usual type? And I’ve simply used the tabloids and their stories to throw everyone off my real purpose? A deflection.”

“You don’t mean you’re actually interested in someone like me?”

“Don’t I?”

Maggie had thought she had the upper hand in this verbal give-and-take. That she had him on the run. But his response stopped her cold. Of course, he was teasing. He had to be.

“Like I said—quantity over commitment. When would you have the time to troll for an ordinary woman?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“We’re talking about you,” she said. “Nothing would surprise me.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge, Maggie Potter.”

“If you’re planning a campaign just to surprise me, I’d have to say that you have way too much time on your hands.”

“Would it surprise you to know that I would really just like to get to know you?”

“Now you’re simply trying to get a rise out of me. It’s not going to work.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He studied her, and the intensity was disconcerting. “But I sense you pushing me away and can’t help wondering about it. You don’t go out, do you? Why is that? Why do you keep to yourself? Is there a reason you won’t let yourself be happy?”

“I have priorities,” she said. “And how do you know I don’t go out? I’m perfectly capable of being happy. In fact, I am very happy.”

And defensive, she realized. Pride went before a fall and it was a long way down when she’d thought she had him right where she wanted him.

Note to self, she thought. Never underestimate this man.