Shep Bennett would do anything for his daughter... Even fall in love!

Shep Bennett’s as smooth as they come...except when it comes to his new daughter. Paige Harper has the magic touch with the traumatized toddler, so she strikes a bargain. She’ll care for Rosie, if Shep will let her run the inn he bought out from under her family. But will Paige be able to keep her heart out of the deal?

MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at michellemajor.com.

Also by Michelle Major

Falling for the Wrong Brother

Second Chance in Stonecreek

A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion

A Baby and a Betrothal

Always the Best Man Christmas on Crimson

Mountain Romancing the Wallflower Sleigh

Bells in Crimson

Coming Home to Crimson

Her Soldier of Fortune

A Deal Made in Texas

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Anything for His Baby

Michelle Major

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09080-3

ANYTHING FOR HIS BABY

© 2019 Michelle Major

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Paige Harper punched the heel of her hand into the bread dough she was working as the doorbell rang for the third time.

“Still ignoring it,” she muttered under her breath.

She turned the dough, stretched it against the counter then reached out and hit the volume button on the portable speaker at the edge of her work space. Barry Manilow’s rich voice filled the space, drowning out all other noise. Even the chatter in Paige’s head.

She continued the rhythmic kneading, flouring her hands when they began to feel tacky. Bread was new for her, and she loved the intensity of working the dough, the strength it took to mold it into a smooth ball.

Closing her eyes, she hummed along with the music as Barry sang about long, rocky beaches.

Just as the song came to its crescendo, Paige felt a tap on her shoulder. In the space of a few minutes, she’d become so wrapped up in the motions and the music, she’d forgotten about the world outside her kitchen.

Which was why the man standing behind her scared the living daylights out of her. She screamed and hurled the hunk of bread dough at him. Unprepared for the assault, he let out an oof as it hit his stomach then dropped and landed with a thunk on the wide-plank floor.

Paige grabbed her phone, turning off the music and plunging the kitchen into a sharp silence.

She and Shep Bennett stared at each other for several seconds then simultaneously glanced down at the sad lump of dough on the floor.

“What are you doing in my house?” she demanded. “You’re lucky I was making bread and not polishing the barrel of my Glock.”

“You own a Glock?” Shep asked, his full lips struggling not to pull into a smile. “I find that hard to believe.”

Okay, the truth was she’d never held any kind of gun, Glock or otherwise. She’d heard the term used on the Law & Order spin-offs she’d binge-watched this week. She’d made it to season six out of approximately three hundred and fifty and knew way more about police procedures than any civilian had a right to. Not that she was going to admit that to Shep.

“You’re still trespassing,” she said through clenched teeth, ignoring the spark of heat that raced along her skin as Shep gave her an appraising once-over.

The perusal didn’t take long as there wasn’t much of her to see. Five feet two inches tall with slim hips and very little in the way of curves anywhere else. Paige wasn’t a woman who’d normally attract the attention of a drop-dead gorgeous man like Shep, with his lean, muscled build and tousled dark hair. Not to mention those whiskey-colored eyes. She wasn’t looking to attract his attention anyway. Shep Bennett would clearly be a handful, and she had too much on her plate already.

“He’s here with me,” a voice said from the back door and Paige dragged her gaze away from Shep.

Lorena Jones, the thirtysomething real estate agent Paige’s mother had hired without bothering to mention it to Paige, walked into the kitchen, frowning as she took in the state of the room. “I left you three messages about a final walk-through today,” she said, her glossy mouth pulling down at the corners.

“I didn’t get them,” Paige mumbled.

“Liar,” Shep whispered under his breath then winked, like this was some kind of game.

It wasn’t a game for Paige. This was her life, and Shep was well on his way to ruining it.

“Have you scheduled movers?” Lorena continued as if Paige hadn’t spoken. “Your mother told me—”

“She’s not going to sell the house,” Paige blurted. “She changed her mind.”

Lorena crossed her arms over her chest. Her ample chest, Paige couldn’t help but notice. It was difficult to ignore those assets, encased in a dark gray bandage dress more appropriate for a big-city nightclub than a Tuesday morning in Crimson, Colorado. “I spoke with her on the way here,” Lorena countered. “She didn’t mention that to me.”

Paige glanced at Shep, expecting to see him ogling Lorena. Most men would, but his gaze was still trained on Paige, his head inclined like he was trying to riddle out some sort of puzzle. Not having anything to do with her, she guessed. She had no secrets.

“She probably doesn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Paige lied. Her mother would cut someone off at the knees if it served her purpose. “She appreciates the work you’ve done so far.”

Lorena sniffed, fluffing her wavy blond hair. “I’ve barely done a thing since you wouldn’t give us access to the house.”

“Because I’m not leaving.” Paige congratulated herself that her voice didn’t waver. She said the words strong and sure, the way she’d been practicing in the bathroom mirror every night this week.

“The closing is set for this week,” Lorena reported tartly. “All that’s left is to complete the terms of the financing. Shepherd is going to take possession, so you’ll need to have your personal belongings out of here. You’re under a time crunch, but you have to manage it, Paige. Obviously, the furniture stays since your mother made the sale of it part of the contract.”

“She did what?” Now Paige couldn’t keep the emotion from her voice.

“Take anything that has special meaning to you,” Shep said gently—far too gently—like she was a fragile piece of china. That wasn’t his personality. Although Paige didn’t really know the man, she’d bet her life that gentle didn’t come naturally to him. The fact that he could manage it for her made her feel more pathetic.

“This house has meaning to me.” She jabbed a finger against the counter. “It’s my home. My business.”

“You haven’t even officially opened,” Lorena pointed out, none too helpfully.

“I’m aware of that.” Paige turned toward the counter, gripped the edge and looked down at her flour-coated hands, swallowing back the tears that rose up hot in her throat. The plan had been for The Bumblebee Bed-and-Breakfast to be operational by now. If the plans for renovations and her budget had stayed on track, the inn would be filled with guests for the busy Rocky Mountain summer tourist season.

But nothing had gone quite according to plan for Paige, not for years. She wasn’t supposed to be pushing thirty alone, with only a ramshackle house to her name. No, not even that. Her grandmother had left the beloved Victorian to her only daughter when she’d died a year ago.

It still hurt that Nana had left the inn to Paige’s mother when Paige had always loved the property, but that emotional slight didn’t stop her from wanting to continue her grandmother’s legacy in Crimson.

Susan Harper had wanted to sell the property at that point, but Paige had convinced her to let her move in and begin renovations to once again open as an inn. She just needed a little more time and she’d be ready for guests. Ready for the income that would allow her to purchase the house from her mother and truly make it hers. She could make something of it. Of herself.

“I need more time,” she said, turning around and schooling her features. She wouldn’t let either of these people see how truly desperate she was.

“Could you give us a minute?” Shep asked the Realtor, who flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile. Paige had seen Lorena’s face on shopping carts, billboards and bus-stop benches around town. She was Crimson, Colorado’s top Realtor according to her ads.

“That’s fine.” Lorena walked forward, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Who wore heels in Crimson anyway? Lorena placed a hand on Shep’s arm, an almost proprietary gesture. Paige wondered if the two were an item. It wouldn’t surprise her.

Shep Bennett was new to Crimson. His company had recently purchased the ski resort that sat adjacent to Nana’s house and renovations were underway that would allow him to reopen in time for the upcoming winter season. That made Shep a hot commodity in town, and Lorena seemed the type to want a powerful man at her side.

“I need to measure the bedrooms upstairs.” She arched a brow in Paige’s direction. “I assume that’s okay with you.”

“Fine.”

Lorena left the room, hips swaying as she moved. If Paige tried to swing her hips that way it would probably look like she was being electrocuted.

“You have awful taste in music,” Shep said conversationally as he bent to pick up the dough from the floor. “And you couldn’t carry a tune out of a paper bag. I swear I heard neighborhood dogs yowling along.”

“My nana used to listen to Barry Manilow.” She took the dough he handed her, dumped it into the trash, then grabbed a wad of paper towels from the roll on the counter and flipped on the faucet. “He’s a musical god and it helps me concentrate when I’m baking.”

“It makes me want to concentrate on finding a decent set of earplugs.”

Paige wet the paper towels then wrung out the excess water. It was all she could do not to fling them at Shep. First he made her ruin her bread dough and now he was going to stand in her kitchen and insult her musical taste.

Her kitchen. The place where she was happiest in the world. And Shepherd Bennett was taking it from her.

Jerk.

He walked to the far side of the kitchen, taking in the oak cabinets, which Paige had painted a cheery yellow, and the row of antique plates she’d hung on one wall. “This is the first time I’ve actually been in the house.”

She dropped to her knees and scrubbed the floor. It would be easier to clean up the dough splatter before it dried completely. “What kind of idiot tries to buy a house he hasn’t even seen?”

“This kind of idiot,” he said, the scuffed toes of his work boots directly in front of her. “And I didn’t try to do anything. You know I close on this place this week.”

“Not if I can help it,” she muttered.

“You can’t.” All the gentleness had disappeared from his tone. He stated a fact, and her body burned with anger at the certainty in his voice. “I don’t care about the house. I wanted the land.”

She stilled, staring down at her hands splayed out on the cherry floors, the veins that ran across the tops of her hands faint and blue. Paige might be petite and delicate looking to some, but she had sturdy hands. Hands like her grandmother.

“This property will give secondary access to the ski mountain and allow us to create a Nordic ski trail plus a new terrain park. We’ll bulldoze the house before the end of summer. I’ll give you a couple of weeks to move out if you need it.”

Paige felt her mouth drop open. Blood roared through her head, making her feel at once dizzy and nauseous. “No,” she whispered.

“The furniture was your mom’s idea. I think she threw it in to save the trouble of having to move everything. She claims it’s mostly old junk.”

Paige sat back on the balls of her feet and looked up, past the jeans that hung low on Shep’s hips and the crisp button-down he wore, smudged with stains from the dough she’d thrown at him.

“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.

Where was stinkin’ Mary Poppins when he needed her?

Shep managed his way through the rest of the meeting with Bob, amazed at how much a person could accomplish one-handed and continually comforting a child. He had a new appreciation for his mother, who’d managed Shep and his twin brother, Cole, with the efficiency of a drill sergeant at the same time she showered them with constant affection. How had she done it?

He wished he could call her now, regretted that he hadn’t done more to show his appreciation and respect for everything she’d sacrificed as a mother. But he lost that chance and no amount of wishing would bring her back.

Clearly he couldn’t keep bringing Rosie to the construction site, even with the tiny safety helmet and noise cancelling headphones he’d ordered for her. Between the noise, the dust and the crew of men shouting to each other over the din of hammers and power tools, his little girl would be in a constant state of anxiety. He buckled her into her car seat and handed her a sippy cup of water from the diaper bag he’d packed that morning.

Shep Bennett, confirmed bachelor and consummate ladies’ man up until eight months ago, now filled his fridge with baby food instead of beer. He carried a diaper bag, albeit one that looked more like a backpack.

Rosie let out a sigh and gave him a wide smile, flashing all four of her newly sprouted top and bottom teeth. He hadn’t understood the term wrapped around her finger until he’d laid eyes on his daughter for the first time. In an instant he’d fallen fast and hard, knowing without question he’d sacrifice anything for her.

His entire life as it turned out. As he made the twenty-minute drive from the ski resort at the base of Crimson Mountain into downtown, he concentrated on the forest on either side of the road and the view of the valley below, dotted with farms and ranches and pockets of housing developments. Unlike nearby Aspen, Crimson still retained some of the spirit of the old West—quaint but slightly untamed.

Shep guessed that’s what had first attracted Cole to the area. Cole being here is what had brought Shep to Colorado, although he’d never admit that to his brother. He’d needed to get out of Los Angeles. The crowded, sprawling city of angels was not the place for Rosie.

He hadn’t spoken to Cole for seven years before arriving in Crimson a month ago. Instead Shep had relied on his twin’s innate good-naturedness to ensure that Cole would be willing to mend the chasm-size riff in their relationship once he knew about Rosie.

It probably helped that Cole was newly in love. Hell, Shep could have asked him for a kidney and Cole would have handed it over then gone right back to making cow eyes at Sienna Pierce, his beautiful and spirited fiancée.

He’d hoped the peaceful town would help Rosie begin to overcome the crippling shyness and mistrust of people that had landed her with Shep in the first place. Like he had a better idea than Monica, his ex-girlfriend, of how to manage a reticent baby. At least he wasn’t giving up or walking away. That had to count for something.

Downtown was bustling with people as he pulled to the curb around the corner from the little bakery where he and Cole were meeting for lunch. It gave him hope that his plan to renovate the ski area would pay off. The board of Trinity Development Company, the real estate corporation he headed, hadn’t been keen to venture from its usual projects of upscale resorts in urban markets to take on the reopening of an entire ski mountain. There were too many uncontrollable factors—weather and annual snowfall the two biggest—to make Crimson a sure thing. His board liked a sure thing and Shep had gotten good at delivering.

It was difficult to know whether his instinct on Crimson had more to do with the potential of the ski mountain or the potential to get some help with Rosie.

She looked up at him with those big blue eyes as he unstrapped her car seat. Faint shadows marred the soft skin under her eyes, and he hated how stressed she seemed at her young age. Maybe it had been a mistake to move her halfway across the country, but she hadn’t been any more content in LA and Shep had felt unable to devote the attention she needed with his California lifestyle. It might not be ideal to bring a baby near a construction site, but he was careful to keep her safe and away from where most of the actual work was taking place. Shep would never put his daughter in danger.

He picked her up, slammed the car door shut and shoved a few quarters into the meter.

“Buwrd,” Rosie said, pointing to a magpie keeping watch on the park across the street from a nearby lamppost. She grinned and squealed with delight when the bird spread its wings and swooped away. “Buwrd, Dada,” she shouted.

“Off to get lunch,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Just like us.”

“Mac-an,” she announced, clapping her hands. Thank heavens for macaroni and cheese, as it was one of the few foods his daughter would eat without coaxing.

“We’ll get you some mac and cheese,” he said, and was rewarded with a smacking kiss on the underside of his jaw. Oh, yeah. Wrapped around her finger tight.

A strand of bells rang cheerfully as he entered Life is Sweet bakery. He scanned the small crowd, then moved forward as Cole waved to him from a café table at the far end of the seating area.

His brother wore a tan shirt with a badge pinned just above his left breast pocket, darker pants and a holster around his waist. A Stetson sat on the table in front of him, and Cole looked every inch the upstanding Western lawman.

Which he was, Shep mused, long-simmering jealousy pricking at his spine. Cole had always been the good one—the golden child. It seemed to come so easy to him, the whole honorable deal, whereas Shep had chafed against his role as the “second son,” even if he’d been born a mere four minutes after his twin.

“Hey,” Cole said, moving his hat to the empty seat next to him. He shifted the high chair that had been pulled up to one side of the table. “Hi, Rosie. Are you ready for some lunch?”

As expected, Rosie tucked her face into the crook of Shep’s neck. “She can sit on my lap,” he told his brother, lowering himself into the metal chair across from Cole.

He looked down as Rosie shifted, glancing over at Cole then lowering her gaze. Cole and Shep were identical, so Rosie was slightly more comfortable with her uncle than with other adults.

To his credit, Cole didn’t push her to interact the way some people tried. “I can’t wait to eat,” he said with a gentle smile then turned his attention to Shep, his gaze sympathetic. “No babysitter today?”

Rosie stiffened. Merely hearing the dreaded word made her tense.

“Just me and my girl,” Shep said with false cheer. He rubbed a soothing hand over Rosie’s back. “We had a meeting at the ski resort today. Demo went well and they’re already starting framing. We should have plumbing, electrical and HVAC coming in next week.”

“Nice progress,” Cole said.

Shep laughed softly. “Rosie’s a hell of a taskmaster.”

Cole cringed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to swear in front of a kid.”

“Right,” Shep agreed with a sigh. He started to apologize to his toddler daughter only to realize her eyes had drifted shut. “Saved by the lack of nap schedule. Or any type of schedule for that matter.”

“It’s still bad?” Cole asked then glanced up as a pretty brunette approached the table.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to there being two of you in town,” Katie Crawford said with a wry grin. The bakery’s owner tipped her chin toward the gaggle of older women standing to one side of the counter. “Your weekly lunches are good for business, though. Normally the bridge ladies head over to the IHOP near the interstate.”

Shep felt his eyebrows furrow. “This is only the second time we’ve been here. I don’t think that counts as a weekly lunch.”

“Close enough,” Katie murmured. “And you brought your better half today.” She gingerly fingered the end of Rosie’s wispy hair. “Will she wake up to eat?”

“Maybe.” Honestly, Shep hoped not. Rosie needed sleep as badly as he did. “Can you bring a bowl of mac and cheese just in case?”

“Of course. And what can I get for the two of you?”

Cole and Shep ordered then Katie walked back toward the counter.

Shep took a long drink of the water Katie had left on the table. “It’s hard to believe everyone around here is so damn nice.”

Rosie twitched then settled against him again.

“Enough with the cursing around the baby,” Cole said, laughing softly. “Mom would skin you alive if she heard that.”

“Yeah.” Shep pressed two fingers to his forehead and sighed. Add cursing to the list of habits he needed to improve to be a decent father. “She would have loved Rosie,” he said softly.

“It broke her heart when you left.” Cole’s voice was strained.

“Don’t put that on me,” Shep shot back, forcing himself to remain calm so he wouldn’t wake his daughter. It was a challenge as a mix of guilt and anger rushed through him. This was the downside of being near Cole—the reminders of his mistakes and the pain he’d caused the people he loved the most.

Cole’s response to being hurt was to rise above it...to be the bigger man. Shep wanted to emotionally gut anyone who wronged him, and he didn’t care who ended up as collateral damage. In most cases, he’d done a bang-up job on that front, especially with his mother. But he wouldn’t take full blame.

“There wasn’t much left of her heart after Dad put that gun to his head,” he said, the words feeling even more like poison on his tongue while he held Rosie.

“She needed both of us.”

Shep barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you took care of her. You take care of everything. No one needs me if you’re around.”

“That’s not true,” Cole said, his mouth pulled tight.

“We both know it is,” Shep countered. “You were always number one.”

Cole opened his mouth to argue then shut it again. “I don’t want to have this conversation every time we’re together.”

They moved on to less contentious topics until Katie brought their food to the table, oblivious to or purposely ignoring the tension that crackled between them.

When she’d walked away again, Shep took a bite of his turkey sandwich, savoring the homemade bread and the tangy garlic mayo along with the thick cut of turkey breast. “Mine is better,” he said, lifting his sandwich in Cole’s direction.

“No way.” Cole picked up half of his chicken salad on wheat and placed it on Shep’s plate. “Try that.”

Suddenly the anger that had spiked in Shep seeped away, and he was back to every meal he’d ever eaten out with his brother. He handed his second half of sandwich to Cole. This was their routine. They ordered and then taunted the other with how much better their choice was. Then they traded portions.

Simple as that, and Shep realized how much he’d missed it. Ordering from a menu and being stuck with only one selection, even if it was great, was boring as hell.

“Turkey’s still better,” he said, taking a big bite of chicken salad. Behind him came the sound of giggling from the bridge brigade. He glanced over to see them staring. One of the women waggled her fingers, and Shep quickly turned his attention back to his plate.

“In your dreams,” Cole said.

Shep grinned. “Gonna eat that pickle?”

Cole handed over the spear. He’d always hated pickles. Shep wondered how many people knew that about the sheriff.

“Sienna isn’t happy with you,” Cole said after a moment. “She talked to Paige yesterday about The Bumblebee.”

“The Bumblebee,” Shep repeated, racking his brain what that name should mean to him. “The dilapidated house I bought?”

“It’s not exactly dilapidated,” Cole said, his tone back to brotherly chastising. “Paige Harper is Sienna’s best friend in Crimson. Paige is upset so now Sienna’s upset—”

“Which makes you upset,” Shep interrupted then snorted. “Come on, Cole. How whipped are you? That house is nothing. It’s a vintage eyesore.”

“It doesn’t work that way in small towns,” Cole said patiently. “Not in Crimson, anyway. People have strong ties here, Shep. You’re going to need to respect the town’s history and character as you move forward with your project. This isn’t California, and folks around here won’t take kindly to a stranger coming in and changing everything with no regard to what it means for the community.”

Shep felt his jaw tighten. He didn’t want to hear this. His job was to make money for Trinity, not to pussyfoot around the emotional whims of the town. He was here to open the ski resort, earn another feather for his cap then move on to whatever came next. Rosie yawned in his arms then blinked awake, her eyes lighting at the sight of the macaroni and cheese. Hopefully, what came next involved a full-time nanny. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You always did like to do things the hard way.” Cole pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. “I’ve got to get back. Bring Rosie over this weekend. Jase and Emily are coming for dinner on Saturday with Davey.”

“Great,” Shep said with fake enthusiasm. “Kids and babies. My favorite.”

“You’re the expert.” Cole got up and leaned forward as if to kiss Rosie’s head, then seemed to think better of it when she whimpered and shot him a death glare. “Shep Bennett, Mr. Mom. I wasn’t sure about you moving to Crimson, but the truth is I love having a front-row seat for this.”

“See ya, Uncle Cole.” Shep lifted Rosie’s chubby hand and waved it at his brother. “Don’t let the door hit you in the—” He stopped himself before swearing again then narrowed his eyes when Cole chuckled.

“See you this weekend.”

Shep’s phone rang and he checked the screen then stifled another curse when Rosie swatted at it, knocking the device from his hand. It clattered to the floor and a young man decked out in climbing gear at the table next to him bent to retrieve it.

“Dude,” the guy breathed. “Your screen shattered. Bummer.”

“Bummer,” Shep repeated, dragging in a deep breath. He wondered if he’d manage to make it to the weekend.

Chapter Three

Paige clicked off the television, her heart beating wildly as the knocking on the front door became more insistent.

The Bumblebee Bed-and-Breakfast was situated at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, the property surrounded by trees and set two hundred yards back from the road. It bordered Forest Service land on one side and the ski mountain sat beyond the yard out back.

Not that the remote location at the base of Crimson Mountain made her immune to trouble with her nearest neighbor. The Morrisons, who lived on the corner, lost their minds at the tiniest infraction of covenants or Crimson’s noise ordinance. Most recently, they’d called the cops when she and Sienna, who’d been the inn’s first and only guest so far, had a dance party one night after a pitcher of too-strong margaritas.

Paige couldn’t imagine them having a complaint with her tonight. Even with the windows open to let in the cool night breeze, noise from the television wouldn’t have drifted to their house. She’d replaced her porch light last week and pulled in the trash and recycling cans after the garbage men emptied them earlier.

There was nothing—

Was that a baby crying?

She stood, tossing aside the remote and heading for the front door. Before she started bingeing cop shows, back in the day when she missed almost an entire semester of high school because of chemo and radiation, she’d watched every movie of the week she could find on DVD. The abandoned baby, left on the doorstep...or dumpster...or near the bushes, was a classic trope in those flicks. It was difficult to imagine someone doing that now, but why else would she hear crying? It wasn’t the sound of a newborn, more of a child who was having a tantrum.

Paige opened the door to reveal Shep standing under her porch light, his daughter wailing in his arms. Rosie paused for a moment to glance at Paige, took a shuddery, hiccuping breath and then let out another sob.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked, automatically stepping back to let the two of them into the house.

Shep’s normally full mouth tightened at the corners. “Nothing as far as I can tell. She usually only cries like this for the sitters, but tonight she woke up about an hour after I put her to bed. She started crying and hasn’t stopped since.” He shrugged. “The people next door called the landlord to complain. They were trying to sleep but the noise carries through the shared wall in the apartment.”

“Is she sick?” Paige asked, reaching out to press a hand to Rosie’s forehead. The girl screamed harder, if that was possible.

Shep shook his head. “No fever. No symptoms. She’s just upset. I don’t know what else to do.”

“So you came here?” Paige frowned. “Why?”

“Because she reached for you,” he said helplessly, bouncing Rosie. “July Fourth at the festival. She liked you. She doesn’t like anybody, and definitely not any of the nannies I’ve tried to hire. But she seemed to like you.”

“I don’t think she remembers,” Paige said mildly.

Shep closed his eyes, looking pained. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll drive her around until she falls asleep. She can’t stay awake forever.” He laughed, sounding a little hysterical to Paige. “Right?”

“Give her to me.” Paige held out her arms, belatedly remembering that she was wearing her rattiest flannel pajama bottoms, a thin T-shirt and no bra.

Shep stared at her chest for several long beats. She should be offended but it had been years since a man had taken an interest in her body. Shep definitely looked interested, which was saying something since he held a crying baby in his arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his face coloring. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s okay.”

Paige reached forward and plucked Rosie out of his arms, settling the screaming toddler on her hip before smoothing a finger across the girl’s dimpled cheek. “What’s the fuss about?” she asked, turning away from Shep and heading toward the hallway.

Rosie wailed, shoulders trembling as she drew in a shaky breath. “Your little throat is going to be raw with all that crying. Can you settle down for me?” Paige leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Rosie’s sweaty head. “Make me look good in front of your daddy, okay?”

Rosie kept crying, although it was softer now. Paige didn’t look back at Shep but continued to the kitchen, where she pulled a box of graham crackers off a shelf in the pantry. “How about a snack and then we’ll rock for a bit?” She talked to the girl in hushed tones as she opened the box and broke off a piece of graham cracker. Rosie took it and shoved it in her mouth, sucking hard.

Paige moved around the room, telling Rosie about her day—anything to distract the child—then pointing out architectural features of the house to the toddler and recounting the history that Paige loved so much about The Bumblebee. If Shep was listening, she wanted him to hear this. She needed him to understand why the inn was special, not just to her but to the town.

This wasn’t naiveté. She understood how change happened, how towns reinvented and rebuilt, but history mattered. The Bumblebee had been one of the first inns to open in Crimson, and she wouldn’t let the past be ignored.

Gnawing away on the graham cracker square, Rosie stopped sniffling and her breathing eventually returned to normal. She rested her head on Paige’s shoulder with a sigh.

The girl was precious, and Paige wondered again what caused her shyness and mood swings.

“You’re a miracle worker,” Shep murmured from directly behind her.

She turned to find him staring, gratitude and relief mixing in his eyes.

“Babies like me,” she said with a shrug. “Squirrels, too.”

Rosie jammed the last of the graham cracker into her mouth then reached for her father. Shep lifted her out of Paige’s arms with a gentle smile.

“Are you ready to head home, Rosie-girl?”

“No,” the girl said with a whimper.

“Stay for a bit,” Paige offered before Shep could argue with his daughter. She might not like Shep, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him when it was clear he was trying so hard to make things right for Rosie. “Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “A beer would be great.”

“There’s a comfy rocking chair in the family room,” Paige told him. “Rosie might like it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” he asked the toddler. “Are you ready to rock the night away?”

She giggled and nodded.

“Thank you,” Shep mouthed to Paige over Rosie’s head then turned and disappeared down the hall.

Paige pulled a beer from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one gulp.

Shep Bennett and his daughter as her late-night visitors. Who would believe it? She reminded herself that Shep was the enemy no matter how adorable and helpless he seemed as a father. Helpless like a lion in a flock of sheep. He wanted to bulldoze The Bumblebee, the place where all of Paige’s happiest childhood memories were housed. All he cared about was profit and easy access to the ski resort.

Shep didn’t care about Paige, even if the way he looked at her made her feel special. He probably turned that charming gaze on every woman he met. If life had taught Paige one glaring lesson, it was that the only time she’d been special was when she was sick. She couldn’t forget that because a desperate daddy made her feel important.

She carried the drinks into the family room, handed Shep the beer then took a seat on the sofa, pulling her unruly curls into a ponytail. Rosie had already fallen asleep, long eyelashes brushing her cheeks and her mouth open slightly.

“Mind if I give her a few more minutes?” Shep asked quietly. “She’s normally a great sleeper but after tonight, I’m gun-shy. If she wakes up when I transfer her to the car—”

“It’s fine.” Paige smiled, her body tingling at the intimacy of the moment. The two of them sharing a quiet interlude in her cozy house. She thumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. The house Shep had closed on today. He owned it now and could kick her out at any moment.

“Did the crying give you a headache?” One side of his mouth quirked. “Rosie has that effect on people.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” Paige countered. “I can’t figure out why she has such a problem with the babysitters you hire.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are hiring experienced babysitters, right? Not ex-strippers looking for an easier way to make some money?”

Shep took a pull from the beer bottle. “You think watching Rosie is easier than taking off your clothes while swinging your hips? That seems highly unlikely.”

“You forgot the pole.” Paige tipped her wineglass toward him. “I did a pole-dancing class once. It’s harder than it looks.”

Shep choked on the beer. “You pole dance?” He set down the beer to wipe his sleeve over his mouth.

“It was a bachelorette party for one of my college friends. I never really got the hang of it.”

“What a surprise.”

“Hey.” Paige frowned. “I let you in tonight and calmed your crying baby. Be nice.”

“You’re offended that I can’t picture you strutting your stuff on a stripper pole?”

He held up one finger. “Give me a second,” he whispered then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was humor and something else. Something that looked strangely like attraction. “Got the mental picture. I’ll tell you, darlin’, I have a great imagination.”

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.”

“Then you need to find a different nanny.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Why was she trying to make this bargain? So what if Rosie liked her? Paige wasn’t a professional nanny. She was an innkeeper, or at least she was trying to be.

Not for long, a voice inside her head cautioned, if you don’t have an inn to run.

“I’ve tried,” Shep mumbled.

“Exactly.” Warming to her off-the-cuff plan, Paige walked toward Shep and lifted the girl from his lap, cradling Rosie against her shoulder to avoid the wine stain. “Here’s the deal. I’ll agree to one month as Rosie’s nanny. In that time, I’ll interview, hire and train my permanent replacement.”

Shep’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened like she’d just stripped down naked. Scratch that. No man had ever reacted with such obvious yearning to her body.

“In return,” she continued, “you’ll agree not to bulldoze The Bumblebee and I’ll get to run it as an inn, at least through Christmas. If I’m successful, the revenue will give me enough money to buy the house from you.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth to respond. “At the same price you bought it from my mother. Those are my terms. Agree or no deal.”

As Shep stood, she backed up a step, her legs hitting the edge of the coffee table. He reached out a hand to steady her, and it felt like being touched by an open flame. Jerking away from his hold, she forced herself to meet his gaze. Despite her heated cheeks, she lifted her chin, unwilling to acknowledge the way he affected her.

She had to be strong or Shep would walk all over her. Paige knew that for a fact because she’d been a doormat most of her life. Not anymore. Her grandmother’s house meant too much.

“Deal,” he said softly, sweeping aside a loose piece of her hair much as he’d done with Rosie minutes earlier.

Suddenly Paige couldn’t draw in a steady breath. She pushed the baby back into his arms, eliciting a soft cry from Rosie. “I think she’ll stay asleep.”

“Probably,” Shep said, wrapping his strong arms around the girl. “We’ll work out the details tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Paige agreed on a squeak, not daring to move until she heard the front door click shut.

Then her knees gave way and she sank down to the edge of the old coffee table.

No more doormat, she repeated over and over in her head, willing her body to return to normal. As mantras went, it was pathetic. Paige didn’t care. She’d just made a deal with her own personal devil, and she was going to need all the strength she could muster.

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