Mail Order Cowboy

Probably would have been a good idea to ask.

There were some aspects to having a stranger in his house that he hadn’t fully considered. He had just been desperate for the help. And since he needed round-the-clock help, offering room and board had seemed like the smartest thing to do. Of course, that meant sharing his space. Which he didn’t like to do. But then, he was already sharing it with a woman, a bigger diva than he’d ever encountered before in his life.

Apparently, the tinier the female, the more willing a man was to submit to her whims. He couldn’t explain the way that having Lily made him feel. He didn’t like babies. He didn’t like kids. He’d never wanted any of his own. He wasn’t sure he did now. But the fact of the matter was he had a child, and he would die for her. Hell, he’d kill for her.

He didn’t know what exactly the feeling was that had invaded his chest, but it was intense. He wasn’t...content or happy, necessarily. No, the kind of feeling that Lily gave him wasn’t settled in the least. It was entirely opposite to the way he had always imagined domestic life would go. Which he had imagined as death by monotonous inches.

The appearance of Lily in his life had taken everything he thought he’d known about himself, and about what he wanted, and turned it all on its side. He was sleep deprived, his chest ached when he looked at her, and every damned morning when his feet hit the floor, he had no idea what he was doing.

He’d been a rancher all of his life. When it came to working the land he knew what he was about. Backward and forward. He’d lost his virginity at fifteen to a pretty, older teenage girl who’d shown him exactly what to do, and hadn’t been shy about demanding he do it better. Since then, he’d considered himself something of an expert on women. Everything he did in his life, he had a firm handle on.

Until now.

Feeling like a greenhorn was a total mind fuck, and apparently caused him to make decisions he might not have otherwise made. Like inviting this so-called plain, tall nanny to come live with him.

That was a far cry from reality. She was... She was stunning. It was a problem. Leggy and blonde, with sea green eyes and full, gorgeous lips.

He hadn’t been with a woman in quite some time. And that was playing havoc with him. The messed-up thing was he hadn’t even thought about it. Not since Lily. He hadn’t had the energy to even consider that kind of thing. He’d been so busy coping with the new life he found himself with he hadn’t spared a thought to his old life.

But then the nanny had shown up, and he wanted to fuck her, which told him everything he needed to know about what kind of asshole he would be in a more conventional life. Because wasn’t it only asshole husbands who wanted the nanny? Yeah, he knew that it was.

He wondered why she thought of herself as plain. Maybe because she wasn’t fussy. She didn’t have any makeup on when he picked her up at the airport. She had been wearing a T-shirt and a pair of leggings, but that seemed par for the course for travel. Maybe that was how she was all the time.

But if that’s what she thought made her plain... Well, he wondered what kind of men she’d had in her life before.

Doesn’t matter. You’re not a man in her life.

He needed help with Lily. At least until she was old enough to go to a daycare or preschool part-time. He and Savannah had discussed that over email. And if he went and messed with the only help he’d been able to find, and earn himself a shady reputation on top of it, he was going to be more screwed than he already was.

It was getting late, and he shouldn’t waste any more time standing around in his kitchen. He had work to do, but seeing as he didn’t have to strap Lily to his chest this morning and go about his work, trading her off between his siblings as they went through different tasks, he was going to hang around the house for a while. He needed to get Savannah established in her new role.

As if on cue her bedroom door cracked open and she appeared. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a gray T-shirt molding over her slight, but perfect curves. She was wearing similar black leggings to the ones she’d had on yesterday.

“Good morning,” he said. “Bacon?”

“Coffee before anything,” she mumbled, stepping into the small kitchen, her gaze avoiding his a little bit too neatly.

As if it was intentional.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

Her green eyes collided with his and he wondered if he had overstepped. Honest to God, he didn’t know how to talk to her. Three months out of the game and he was this bad at communicating with women? Or maybe the problem was he didn’t know how to communicate with a woman he was attracted to that he couldn’t touch.

He hadn’t exactly lived a life of restraint.

“I slept fine,” she said. “I feel bad that I didn’t help with Lily. Tonight I’ll be ready to take the baby monitors.”

“I might be a little bit of a tyrant,” Jackson said, “but I wanted you to start out with a good night’s sleep. No sense in us both being sleep deprived from the get-go, right?”

“Right,” she agreed.

He poured her a mug of coffee and set it in front of her. “Cream and sugar?”

“Please,” she said.

“All the food in the house is yours,” he said. “My stepsister, Chloe, grocery shops once a week, and she does delivery. So if there’s anything you like, be sure to get it to me and I will put it on the list.”

“I can get my own groceries,” she said. “I don’t mind taking Lily to the grocery store.”

“Food is part of your pay,” he said. “It’s fine if you want the outing, but you don’t have to buy your own.”

“I appreciate that. I... I need to figure out getting a car. I have the money. I sold my car in Colorado.”

“We can work on that, too.”

“Are you a good cook?” she asked.

“I’m terrible,” he said. “Which is another thing. Chloe cooks for us sometimes, but often we fend for ourselves, and you may not like that. So, while I did not hire you to be a chef...”

“If I want to enjoy my dinner I might have to cook for both of us?”

“Just a fact,” he said.

“Good to know.”

“I’m happy to eat frozen pizza. And a lot of garlic bread. Throw a steak in a pan with some butter. I’m not picky.”

“That’s going to catch up with you someday,” she commented, eyeballing his midsection.

“Hasn’t yet,” he said. “Other things have, obviously, but not my eating habits.”

She hesitated for a moment, taking two very pointed sips of coffee. Then she put her mug down and looked at him. “By other things do you mean... Lily?”

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. He supposed there was no way around having this conversation.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m the last guy on earth that should be raising a baby by himself. I don’t know a damn thing about kids. And I was not exactly in a white picket fence place. But here I am. When I say I don’t know anything about babies and fatherhood, I mean it.”

“Who is her mother?”

“I know her name, but beyond that, I don’t know much,” he said, shame sliding over him when he said that.

He’d already had to explain this to his brothers, his stepsister, and to their stepmother. He’d never been bothered by his behavior before. Until this.

Because when people talked about him and his reputation it was all euphemistic. Elbowing, winking and nudging. Nobody came right out and said that he had sex with every woman he talked to in a bar, but the fact of the matter was he did. And Lily was undeniable evidence of that.

The fact that he didn’t really know her mother was further evidence of who he was. And put all out in public like that, it shamed him. Knowing that someday he would have to explain to his daughter how he’d acted bothered the hell out of him. Knowing he was the kind of man that he would never, ever want Lily to even speak to was another layer of that altogether. Because he was raising her. And he had to find a way to be better.

“So, she wasn’t your wife.”