Michelle Major - Anything For His Baby

“I hate you,” she said clearly and Shep’s mouth curved up on one side, as if he’d expected the words. Been waiting for them even.

“Sooner or later I have that effect on most women.”

“Shocker.”

“I know, right?” He flashed a full smile, the kind that had certainly melted the panties of dozens of ladies over the years. Probably hundreds. Maybe thousands. Shep looked like the type to melt the undergarments of anyone carrying two X chromosomes. A moment later that smile disappeared, and he was all business. “You can’t stop this.”

“I can try.” She straightened. “I’ll call my mom again.”

He shook his head. “Your mother won’t change her mind, and if she considers it I’ll up the offer. I always get my way.” He shrugged. “It’s not personal.”

Not personal? This house—reopening the bed-and-breakfast that had meant so much to her grandmother—was all Paige had in life. She’d come here every summer from the time she was ten years old, tapped to help her grandma manage the small inn. The only time she’d stayed in Denver was between her sophomore and junior years of high school when her weekly chemo treatments had prevented her from being away from home.

But the following summer Nana had insisted she return, even though Paige still felt like she needed more care than she’d be able to give. Nana had put her to work, easy tasks until she began to regain her strength. Began to believe she might fully recover from the cancer that had changed everything in her world.

Paige could not see this house demolished. It represented too much to her.

“Maybe I should talk to Cole about whether your arrival in Crimson is personal,” she said with a composure she didn’t feel.

Shep’s head snapped back like she’d hit him. For a moment she could see past the mask of either the hard-nosed businessman or incorrigible flirt. For a moment she saw his soft underbelly exposed and it was too much, too familiar. Shep Bennett was the enemy, and she couldn’t afford to forget that for a moment.

“Wait. I remember you.” His eyes widened and he took a step closer to her, once again the smooth-talking scoundrel. “The toddler whisperer,” he murmured almost more to himself than her.

Color rose to her cheeks under his scrutiny. They’d actually met—well, not met—but she’d seen him a couple of weeks ago at the Crimson July Fourth Festival. His twin brother, Cole, the town’s popular sheriff, had been in the hot seat in the dunk tank. Unfortunately for Cole, he’d also just broken the heart of Sienna Pierce, whom Paige had befriended when she’d come to Crimson.

Ever the dutiful friend, Paige had been gamely trying to dunk Cole as a crowd, including Shep, watched. Shep’s young daughter had reached out to her, which wasn’t odd to Paige. Kids and animals tended to like her. She figured it had something to do with her size and the fact that she didn’t have a threatening bone in her body, no matter how much she wanted a few.

“She seemed to like you at the festival, and Rosie normally hates everyone except me,” Shep told her.

“Give her time,” Paige shot back then clasped a hand over her mouth. She might not like the guy, but it was wrong to insinuate his own daughter wouldn’t.

He didn’t react or seem bothered by her rudeness, almost as if it was his due.

“Well,” he said after a moment, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “she only came to live with me about seven months ago and she’s still crawling so it’s not like she can run away quite yet.”

“I think you’re safe until she hits her teenage years,” Paige offered, still embarrassed by her outburst. “Even then most of the anger will be to test you.”

He made a face. “I suck at tests, but man do I love that girl.”

Something softened in him when he spoke about his daughter. Paige sucked in a breath as her chest squeezed. Was there anything more charming than a father smitten with his little girl? She forced her thoughts back to his plans for the inn.

Temper swelled in her again like the strains of all the best Manilow ballads. That felt better. Smitten was not a word she wanted to associate with Shep Bennett.

“Are we ready?” Lorena asked as she breezed back into the room.

“Yeah,” Shep answered, running a hand through his hair.

“You haven’t made it past the kitchen,” Paige offered, trying a new tack. Maybe if Shep saw how special The Bumblebee was he’d be more likely to let her continue with her plans for it. Or at least to rethink bulldozing it. That couldn’t happen. Not on Paige’s watch.

“Don’t need to,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I told you why I’m buying the house.”

“But—”

“We need to go,” Lorena interrupted, stepping closer to Shep. Once again as if she were claiming him. Her behavior didn’t make sense. Paige certainly wasn’t some kind of threat or the type of woman who’d attract the attention of a man so clichéd tall, dark and handsome. “Please make sure you get to work, Paige. I don’t have time to deal with your silly games.”

Paige heard a grinding sound and realized it was her back teeth. She unclenched her jaw and offered Lorena her sweetest smile. “I’d hate to waste your precious time.”

Lorena nodded, oblivious to Paige’s sarcasm. “Good then. Shep, I told you I’d handle everything.” She gave him a sultry stare. “I’m a professional.”

Paige choked out a laugh but covered it by coughing.

“See you around, toddler whisperer,” Shep told her.

Lorena shot him a questioning look at the words then shook her head and led him out the back door.

It clicked shut and Paige felt her chest rise and fall, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to process this latest development in the mess of her current life. Not only was her mother selling Nana’s house, the plan was to demolish it. How could something that represented so much to Paige be destroyed so casually? Like it meant nothing.

Like she meant nothing.

She hit the button on her phone to play the music again and turned up the volume until the sound of Nana’s favorite singer overrode everything else, including the sharp shatter of Paige’s heart breaking.

Chapter Two

Shep balanced Rosie on one hip as he led his general contractor through the main dining hall at the Crimson Ski Resort two days later.

The little girl whimpered each time Bob McConnell, the burly, bearded man overseeing renovations, so much as made eye contact with her. An improvement from the beginning of this disastrous meeting, when Bob had reached out and tried to tickle Rosie’s chin, prompting her to break into shuddering sobs as she buried her face against her daddy’s shoulder.

“You sure it’s a good idea having a baby in the construction zone?” Bob asked, rubbing gnarled fingers across his thick beard.

“It’s fine,” Shep ground out, even though it was anything but. He’d gone through four babysitters in as many days, none of them lasting more than one shift given Rosie’s temperament when he wasn’t around. Yesterday he’d driven over to Glenwood Springs to pick out flooring for the main lobby of the resort. In his absence, Rosie had screamed so loud and long she’d made herself throw up, according to the most recent nanny candidate.

The nanny had lasted two hours then called to demand he return to the furnished apartment he’d rented on the edge of Crimson’s picturesque downtown square. Rosie had lifted her chubby arms to him as soon as he’d walked through the door. She’d been clad in nothing but a wet diaper, the nanny insisting that the fourteen-month-old refused to wear clothes.

Within minutes of the babysitter, a heavyset woman in her midfifties who’d promised she could handle anything after raising four boys on her own, leaving, Rosie had fallen asleep, cradled against his chest. Listening to her rhythmic breathing had Shep’s heart melting as quickly as a Popsicle on hot asphalt. Rosie was his alone, and he couldn’t keep putting her through the stress of new caregivers. Hell, it wasn’t as if this high-altitude town had an unending supply of Mary Poppins types anyway.