Michelle Major - Anything For His Baby

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?”

He shook his head. “I’m actually kind of jealous. I wish I could feel more than rage at Monica and guilt that I didn’t stop it from happening.”

“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.”

“A fancy way of saying old and run-down.”

Paige sputtered, all the sympathy she’d had for Shep evaporating like mist on a hot summer day. “You are crazy. Not just for propositioning me to be your nanny, but for managing to be rude and offensive in the process.”

“Facts aren’t offensive,” he said. “They’re facts.”

“No.”

“You don’t mean it.” He brushed a strand of wispy hair from Rosie’s cheek. “You can’t.”

“I hate to ask but why is that?”

“You’re my only hope,” he said, his voice so hollow it made her chest ache.

She stood, paced to the front window and splayed her fingers on the glass, cool under her touch. One of the things she loved most about Crimson in the summer was the weather. It could be sunny and blazing hot in the midafternoon, but as soon as the sun set the temperature dipped, a welcome evening reprieve.

“What do I get in return?” She pressed her fingertips more firmly to the glass.

“I’ll pay you.”

“I want more.”

The slight creak of the rocker stopped, plunging the room into complete silence. “Why, Ms. Harper, are you propositioning me?” Shep asked after a moment.

“Your ego is astounding,” she said, hating that her voice came out breathless. “I want you to agree not to tear down the inn.” She turned then, gratified to see the look of utter surprise on his handsome features. It would seem very few people saw fit to challenge Shep Bennett.

“I can’t do that,” he stammered. “We need access on this side of the mountain.”