Mother In A Moment: Mother In A Moment / Millionaire's Instant Baby

“But we agreed that I would help you out for only this week.”

“I didn’t say I haven’t tried to make other arrangements.” He finished off the soda and crumpled the can with one hand. “The same problems still exist that existed last week, Darby. You’re my only option. And even if you weren’t,” he added firmly, “you’re my best option. The children adore you. How can you walk away from them?”

“How can you ignore them the way you have been?” The words escaped without thought and she pressed her lips together. She was only the hired help, she reminded herself. Temporary hired help. She’d grown up with “help” all around her, and she knew that there were times when her father considered their input acceptable and times when he hadn’t. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down, legs stretching halfway across the cozy kitchen. “Don’t stand there like that,” he said. “You remind me of the nuns from my elementary school. Except you’re missing the ruler to rap over my knuckles.”

She reluctantly pulled out the chair opposite him and sat. With one hand, he rolled one of the long tubes a few inches back and forth across the table. That dirty bandage of his was going to drive her nuts. “I don’t believe you ever went to parochial school,” she finally said stiffly.

He shrugged. “You’ll hear the rumors sooner or later. I wasn’t exactly a teacher’s pet. I told you before, Darby. People aren’t jumping out of the woodwork to help me out. They’re too afraid of upsetting The Mighty Caldwell.”

“Laura isn’t afraid,” Darby countered. “If she had been, she wouldn’t have listened to anything I had to say about Elise’s wishes. I think you may be exaggerating your—” she hesitated when his eyebrow peaked, then plunged on “—your difficulties somewhat. I’ve found this town very welcoming. And if you just give people a chance, instead of assuming the worst, you’ll be surprised. Nobody here is going to want you to fail with the children.”

He watched her from beneath lazy lids. Then he sat up straighter in his chair and propped his arms on the table, cocking his head to the side. “Are you for real?”

Darby swallowed and leaned back an inch—all that the ladder-back chair allowed. “I just think—”

“You’ll see Wednesday at the hearing what kind of assumptions I’ve been making or not making,” he said blandly. “In fact, once Caldwell finds out that you’ve been helping me these last few days, you’re not going to be on his Christmas list anymore, either.”

“I’m not afraid of your father.” What she did fear was walking into that courtroom on Wednesday. She just hadn’t figured a way of getting out of it.

He lifted one hand. “Call him Mayor or Caldwell or Sir Snake,” he suggested. “But don’t call him my father.” His eyes narrowed. “He hasn’t called here, or been by, has he?”

“No.” Which, when she thought about it, surprised her a little. The children were his grandchildren.

“Good. You don’t need to be afraid of him, even if he does. I’ll protect you from him. Just continue taking care of the kids. I’ll make it worthwhile. Despite the looks of this place, I can afford whatever you ask.”

She shook her head, wondering where the conversation had gone amiss. “You’re as bad as Dane,” she murmured wonderingly.

“Who’s Dane?”

Her lips parted. “I…nobody.” How could she be so careless? She brushed back her bangs and stood. “I can heat up some supper for you,” she offered. “We had fried chicken. There’s still some left.”

Garrett caught her hand as she moved past him, nervous energy seeming to pour from her pores. He ran his thumb over the back of her smooth hand. It was slender and long-fingered. Elegant, he thought. “Nobody?”

“Garrett, please.” She tugged at her hand, but he didn’t let go.

“I know why I’m edgy,” he said. “And I can understand why you might be annoyed with me about not making other arrangements for the fearsome five, but you’re about ready to jump out of your skin. Who is Dane?”

He didn’t know why he was making a big deal about it. If she had a secret or two, who was he to begrudge her of them? He had a whopper of one, himself. And because he did, his conscience needed to know that he was at least giving the kids a caretaker whom they actually liked. One who would stick around awhile. Not be lured off by some guy named Dane.

Darby’s face was pale. “My brother,” she finally said stiffly.

Surprised, Garrett let her go. She wrapped the hand he’d held in her other, rubbing it. He frowned. He hadn’t held her that tightly. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I…we don’t get along,” Darby said, turning away. “Do you want that chicken or not?” She took a plate out of the cupboard, and Garrett saw that her hand was trembling.

Hell.

He rose and put his hands around her shoulders, gently turning her to face him. The sight of her glistening eyes grabbed his gut and twisted hard. He took the plate from her and set it aside. “Hey. I’m sorry. Don’t do that.”

She blinked and averted her face.

He caught her chin and gently lifted. “I know all about family feuds,” he murmured. She looked up at him with those sky-blue eyes, and he clamped down on the heat that suddenly churned inside him. That was the last damned thing they needed.

Then she moistened her lips. Just a nervous, barely noticeable movement, and her soft lower lip glistened.

Ah, hell.

He drew his thumb over her chin. The hint of stubbornness in it saved her face from being perfectly oval. He could feel her pulse beating in her throat; rippling little beats that teased the heavy chug of his own pulse.

“Garrett.” She pressed her palms flat against his shirt, and he could have sworn that he felt the distinct shape of each one of those long, elegant fingers.

“Shh.” His thumb drifted over her lips and her eyes fluttered closed.

Beneath his thumb he felt her lips move. “I don’t know which is worse,” she whispered. “When you’re all cold and distant or when you’re…not.”

“I told you to shush,” he muttered. “Your voice. It’s—”

“Rough,” she finished.

“Husky,” he corrected. Like a brush of velvet over his nerve endings.

She suddenly stepped back, looking anywhere but at him. Her fingertips touched her throat for a moment before she picked up the plate and held it in front of her like a shield. “My vocal chords were, um, injured when I was a kid. I know. I sound like a habitual smoker or something.”

It was good she’d backed away. She had more sense than he did. “You sound like you,” he said. But listening to her talk was an exercise in erotic torture. She said his name, and he nearly lost the ability to reason. And the kitchen still seemed filled with tension.

Tension that he’d caused because he’d let himself forget, for just a minute, that he needed more from this woman than the taste of her lips. He needed Darby for the kids. Without her in his corner, he knew his chances in court against Caldwell were slim. It was only her word, after all, that Elise had wanted him to take her and Marc’s children. His attorney, Hayden Southerland, who had finally arrived from New Mexico, had confirmed it.

Actually what Hayden had said was that the only thing better than an unimpeachable nanny would be an unimpeachable wife. Since Garrett had no prospects on that score, he’d better remember to keep his hands off the one nanny he had in the offing here in Fisher Falls.

Once he got back home to Albuquerque, he’d see about hiring one of Carmel’s aunts; she seemed to have about twenty of ’em. They were all devoted to their grandbabies but Garrett figured once he was back home, he could convince at least one of them that it would be worth their while to watch a few more.

He gathered up the tubes of blueprints from the table. “Don’t worry about the chicken,” he told Darby. “I’ve got work to do, anyway.” Carrying the plans, he headed out of the kitchen for the den.

Just exactly like Dane, Darby thought, watching him go. Her brother would work 24/7 if he could, and it seemed that Garrett would, too.

She quietly prepared a plate, heating the chicken in the microwave before adding a gelatin salad and a buttered roll. Garrett didn’t particularly look the type to eat orange gelatin with bananas inside it, but Regan had helped Darby make it that afternoon, so that’s what he would get. She poured a glass of milk, prepared everything on a tray and carried it, along with the small first aid kit from beneath the kitchen sink, to Garrett’s den, turning off lights as she went.

He hadn’t exaggerated about the work, she realized when she stepped inside the small room. He’d unrolled some blueprints across his desk and was thoroughly focused on them. She set the tray on the small table next to the couch that he was supposedly unfolding into a bed each night. Frankly, she didn’t see how he could. The room was simply too cramped.

“Let me see that bandage.” She flipped open the first aid kit on his desk and held out her hand.

He looked at his hand, as if surprised to see the sloppy bandage still circling his finger. “It’s nothing.”

“The bandage is dirty. Whatever you’ve done, you wouldn’t want it to get infected, would you?” She wriggled her fingers, demanding.

His expression unreadable, he held up his hand and she unwrapped the tape and gauze, making a face at the cut beneath. “I thought you told people what to do at that construction company you run, not that you were out pounding nails with your own bare hands.”