Building The Perfect Daddy

Lauryn managed a smile. “They’re so lucky to have both of you. I’m so lucky to have both of you.”

Susan lifted a hand to brush her daughter’s bangs away from her eyes. “Can you stay for dinner?”

Of course, they could. And no doubt, whatever her mother had planned for the evening meal would be better than the meat loaf Lauryn had thrown together that morning. But her parents had already been with the kids for four hours, fed them lunch and probably numerous snacks.

“Thanks, but I’ve got dinner ready to go in the oven at home.”

“We’re having roast pork with fingerling potatoes and green beans,” Susan said in a final attempt at persuasion.

“Enjoy,” Lauryn said, kissing her mother’s cheek.

* * *

When the rain finally stopped early in the afternoon, Ryder loaded up the necessary supplies and headed back to the Schulte residence. It wouldn’t take him long to tack down the tarps, and since Lauryn had said she had errands to run, he expected to complete the task and be gone before she returned.

He didn’t quite make it. He was securing his ladder into the bed of his truck when she pulled an aging minivan into the driveway beside his truck.

The Garretts were one of the wealthiest and most well-known families in Charisma. Of course, Lauryn’s last name was different, which was why he hadn’t immediately made the connection, but as soon as Kylie had mentioned the flowers and the wedding, he’d started to put the pieces together into a more complete picture. But there were still big, gaping holes in the form of the ancient van, leaking roof and outdated kitchen. He finished the tying down while she got the kids out of the vehicle and decided that, sooner or later, he would fill those holes.

He noticed that she’d changed out of the yellow T-shirt and jeans into a slim-fitting navy skirt and jacket and tucked her feet into high-heeled sandals. He also noticed that she had some pretty nice curves beneath the buttoned-up suit.

He shook his head, as if that might dislodge the unwelcome thought from his brain. She was his client—and if he expected to be able to work with her, he had no business ogling her. Not to mention that she really wasn’t his type. He preferred uncomplicated women and simple relationships—a single mother, no matter how beautiful and desirable, didn’t fit that criteria.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Wallace?” she asked.

“Ryder,” he reminded her.

“What are you doing here, Ryder?”

He smiled at the pique in her tone. “I took advantage of the break in the weather to put some tarps up.”

Her gaze shifted to the roof of the house. “You didn’t have to do that,” she protested.

“I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get any more rain in the castle,” he said, winking at Kylie. “And give the wood a chance to dry out so that it will be ready when the roofers are.”

“You’re really going to get my roof fixed?”

“I said I would,” he reminded her.

She nodded. “Rob used to say a lot of things, too,” she admitted. “But he didn’t follow through on many of them.”

“Home renovations aren’t as easy as a lot of people think,” he said, even as he wondered what had gone wrong in her marriage and if she was still hung up on her ex-husband.

“Well, thanks for putting up the tarps.” She started to move past him toward the house.

“Since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks, you might want to ease up on the hostility a little,” he suggested.

“I’m not—” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really bad day and I’m taking it out on you, and after you went out of your way to help me out—which I do appreciate.”

“You’re welcome.”

She started toward the door again, then hesitated. “Are you one of those people who drinks coffee all day?”

He smiled. “Is that a roundabout way of offering me a cup?”

She shrugged. “It seems the least I can do—if you’re interested.”

Yeah, he was interested, and apparently in more than just the hot beverage she was offering. The tug of attraction he felt for the home owner was more than a little disconcerting because, aside from the fact that single mothers weren’t his type, Ryder had a very strict rule against mixing business with pleasure. If he was smart, he’d say, Thanks, but no thanks, climb into his truck and head home. Maybe he’d even return Holly’s call and accept her offer of dinner—and dessert. His occasional friend-with-benefits was fun and single and, most importantly, she’d never asked for anything more than he was willing to give. Yes, he should definitely call Holly back.

“Coffee would be great,” he said instead.

Lauryn led him into the house. After setting Zachary in his playpen, she started the coffee brewing.

“I wanna dwink, too,” Kylie said, retrieving a juice box from the fridge.

“Okay,” Lauryn agreed, unwrapping the straw and inserting it into the top of the box.

The little girl took a sip, then set it aside. “Cookie?”

This time her mother shook her head. “You already had cookies at Grandma’s.”

So Kylie turned her attention to Ryder. “Cookie?” she asked hopefully, adding a smile for good measure.

He chuckled. “Sorry—I don’t have any cookies.”

The little girl pouted.

“Your coloring book and crayons are still on the table in the living room,” Lauryn told her daughter.

With an exaggerated sigh, Kylie turned toward the living room.

“You’re going to have your hands full with that one,” Ryder said to Lauryn.

“They’re full enough already,” she admitted, setting a mug of coffee and the sugar in front of him.

“How old is she?”

“Three and a half.”

“And the little guy?” he asked, glancing at the playpen where the baby had managed to pull himself to his feet and was gnawing on the frame.

Lauryn’s gaze followed his as she sat down across from him with her own mug. “Seven months and—as you can see—teething.”

He frowned. “Didn’t you say your husband left nine months ago?”

“I did,” she confirmed.

“It must have been hard on you—having the baby without him,” he noted.