Building the Perfect Daddy (13 page)

“You might be waiting a long time,” she warned.

His lips curved again in a smile that was slow and sexy and just a little bit smug. “I don't think so.”

“Good night, Ryder,” she said firmly.

“Good night, Lauryn.” He brushed his lips over hers once more. “Sweet dreams.”

* * *

After a rain delay in Martinsville necessitated postponing Sunday's scheduled race, Tristyn finally returned to Charisma on Tuesday. Lauryn was in the store when her sister came in, her arms full of bags of Halloween decorations. She tried to protest that they were a sporting goods store and no one cared if there weren't any pumpkins or ghosts on display, but Tristyn waved off her arguments and got busy transforming the front window mannequins into zombies—albeit zombies wearing high-end sporting apparel and top-of-the-line athletic shoes.

When Adam came in at noon—because Lauryn opened the store on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays—she was finally able to escape from her position at the front register.

“I need to talk to you about something,” she said to Tristyn when she found her sister arranging fake cobwebs and creepy plastic spiders on a skateboard display.

Her sister set another spider in place, then turned to face her. “You didn't forget to cancel the order for those ski jackets, did you?”

“No, I canceled the order. This has nothing to do with the inventory. Well, maybe it does. Indirectly.”

“You're flustered,” Tristyn mused. “And you never get flustered.”

“I kissed Ryder.” She blurted the words out like a confession. “Or he kissed me. But then I kissed him back.”

Her sister's lips curved. “I think I understand now why you're flustered. This is certainly an interesting—if not unexpected—development.”

“No, it's
not
interesting,” Lauryn denied. “It's...crazy and irresponsible and reckless and dangerous and crazy—”

“You said ‘crazy' twice,” Tristyn pointed out.

“Because it needs to be said twice. Maybe even three times or ten times. Because I never should have let it happen and it's all Jordyn's fault.”

“How is it Jordyn's fault?” her sister wanted to know. “And why are you assigning blame? Unless he's a really lousy kisser, and if he is, I don't want to know—it will ruin all of my fantasies.”

“Of course, he isn't a lousy kisser. He's at the complete opposite end of the spectrum of kissers. And it's Jordyn's fault because she told me to make the cupcakes.”

“You made cupcakes for his birthday?” Tristyn queried.

Lauryn frowned at that. “How did you know it was his birthday?”

“There were about a thousand ‘happy birthday' messages to him on Twitter.”

“You follow him on Twitter?”

“Half a million people follow him on Twitter,” her sister said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I'm not on Twitter and I didn't know it was his birthday,” Lauryn said. “The cupcakes were supposed to be a thank-you because he stayed to watch the kids on Friday when Jordyn abandoned them.”

Tristyn waved away her explanation as if it was inconsequential. “Tell me about the kiss.”

Just the memory of the kiss had heat flooding through her body, warming her from the top of her head to the toes curling inside of her shoes. “I can't remember the last time I was kissed like that,” she admitted. “If ever. It was...pretty much perfect.”

Her sister sighed dreamily. “I suspected that about him. He has the aura of a man who knows what he's doing in all aspects of his life.”

“He knows what he's doing,” she confirmed.

“What happened after the kiss?” Tristyn asked.

“We went out for dinner. To Eli's.”

Her sister was clearly unimpressed. “He kissed you senseless and then bought you a burger?”

“Eli's was my choice.”

Tristyn sighed. “Sometimes I can't believe we're sisters.”

“We had a good time,” she said, just a little defensively.

“You had milk shakes under fluorescent lights when you deserve wine and candlelight.”

“We had a good time,” she repeated. Then she thought about the kiss again—the kiss she hadn't been able to stop thinking about—and mentally amended “good” to “great.”

“I'm not disputing that you probably did,” Tristyn told her. “I just think you should expect more. You deserve more.”

“Maybe I should consider one of those Rabbits you were talking about.”

Her sister shook her head. “A battery-operated device is no substitute for a flesh-and-blood man, especially not when that man is Ryder Wallace.”

She didn't disagree, but there were still a lot of reasons to be wary. “He's six years younger than me.”

“So?”

“So I'm looking ahead at forty and he's not even thirty.”

“You're thirty-four,” her sister noted. “Forty is a long way off.”

“Maybe, but I still graduated from college before he'd finished high school.”

“So?” Tristyn said again.

She sighed and finally confided her biggest concern. “I have to think about my children—especially Kylie.”

“Of course, you have to think about the children,” her sister agreed. “But you need to think about yourself, too. What do
you
want? Are you looking for a fling or a relationship?”

“I wasn't looking for anything,” she denied. “Not until he kissed me.”

“And now?” Tristyn prompted.

“Now—” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Now I can't seem to think about anything but how much I want him naked and in my bed.”

“An admirable goal,” her sister assured her.

“I thought you would be the voice of reason, that you would point out all of the reasons that even thinking about getting naked with him is a bad idea.”

“No, you didn't,” Tristyn said. “If you really wanted to be talked out of this, you'd be talking to Jordyn.”

“Except that Jordyn advised me to ‘go for it.'”

“Obviously falling in love again has changed her perspective on life. And maybe that should be a lesson to you.”

Lauryn shook her head. “I can't afford to make any more mistakes in my life.”

“Relationships are always a risk,” Tristyn acknowledged. “If you don't put your heart on the line you can't lose. On the other hand, you can't win, either.”

Chapter Thirteen

R
yder was pleased with the progress his crew was making on Lauryn's kitchen—and frustrated that he'd made absolutely zero progress with the woman herself. He thought they'd had a good time together on his birthday. They'd talked and laughed and shared a couple of sizzling kisses. But in the almost two weeks that had passed since then, he'd barely seen her—and he never had an opportunity to be alone with her.

He really wanted to be alone with her. He wanted to kiss her and touch her and—

And there she was. Once again on her way out the door when he was coming in. But this time, he changed direction, falling into step beside her as she headed out with Zachary in his stroller and Kylie by her side. The backpack on the little girl told him that she was on her way to meet the school bus, which picked her up at the bottom of the driveway every morning.

“What have you got stuffed into that pack today?” Ryder asked Kylie.

“My Halloween costume,” she told him. “We're havin' a party at school an' I'm gonna be a pwincess.”

“I bet you'll be the prettiest princess in the whole school,” he told her.

“You wanna come to my party?” she asked.

“As much fun as I'm sure that would be, I think your mom would prefer if I stayed here and worked on her kitchen.”

“Definitely,” Lauryn agreed.

Kylie tipped her head back to look at her mother. “Are you comin' to my party?”

“Yes, I'll be there,” she confirmed.

“You hafta bwing tweats,” the little girl reminded her.

“Mrs. Shea knows that I'm bringing a fruit tray,” Lauryn told her as the school bus pulled up.

“'Kay,” Kylie said. She quickly hugged her mom, then Ryder, then she leaned in to kiss her brother's cheek before she tackled the big stairs leading onto the bus.

“There's one Garrett female who isn't stingy with her affection,” Ryder noted as the bus doors closed, swallowing the little girl up inside.

“Schulte,” her mother corrected automatically.

He shook his head. “That might be her name, but the blood in her veins is pure Garrett.”

Lauryn's lips curved just a little, as if she was pleased by the thought, but all she said was, “Aren't you supposed to be working on my kitchen?”

“The work will get done,” he promised. “And I want to know why you've been dodging me for the last couple of weeks.”

“I haven't been dodging you,” she denied, pivoting the stroller around and heading back up the driveway. “I've seen you almost every day.”

“But you're careful never to be alone with me.”

She lifted Zachary out of the stroller and put him in his car seat, while Ryder collapsed the stroller for her and set it in the back of the van. “There's no reason for me to be alone with you.”

“I didn't mean to scare you off,” he said, when he had her full attention again.

“You didn't.” But she was looking at her car keys when she said it.

He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Prove it,” he said. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Tonight is Halloween,” she reminded him.

“You don't eat on Halloween?”

Her lips curved. “Usually only chocolate bars and gummy bears.”

“After trick-or-treating,” he guessed.

She nodded.

“Can I come along?”

“Only if you don't expect me to share the candy.”

“You can have all of it, but—” he winked at her “—I have dibs on your kisses.”

* * *

I have dibs on your kisses.

His words continued to echo in the back of Lauryn's mind throughout the day—while she was at the store, while she was assembling the fruit tray in her mother's kitchen, even while she was at the Halloween party at Kylie's preschool. Because she knew he wasn't talking about candy kisses, and she would gladly trade away every last gummy bear to feel his lips on hers again.

But she wanted more than his kisses. She wanted
him
. And that was why she'd been dodging him. Not that staying away from him had stopped the wanting, so when he'd asked if he could join them for trick-or-treating, she didn't see any point in denying his request.

When the doorbell rang, Lauryn was struggling to get Zachary into the pumpkin costume his sister had worn a few years earlier. Of course, Kylie had been two months younger—and about five pounds lighter—on her first Halloween.

After instructing Kylie to look out the window to ensure it was Ryder at the door, Lauryn gave her daughter permission to let him in.

“Hi, Wyder!” Kylie greeted him.

He took in her costume and immediately offered a deep, courtly bow. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

She giggled. “You like my costume?”

“Very much,” he told her. “But...I think you're missing something.”

Her hands immediately went to the top of her head to ensure that her sparkly crown was in place. “What's missin'?”

“A trick-or-treat bag. Something worthy of a princess.” He held up the one he carried—made of white satin fabric and decorated with ribbons and sparkly beads with a lace drawstring.

Kylie gasped, her eyes wide. “Is that for me?”

Ryder nodded. “Thank you!” she said, and threw herself into his arms.

He caught her as best he could, considering that his hands were full, and hugged her back. “You're welcome.”

She accepted the bag and peered inside. “Look, Mama—there's even candy inside.”

“You just made her day,” Lauryn said, when Kylie had skipped away. “That's quite an improvement over a reusable grocery bag.”

“I brought something for you, too,” he said, offering her a bottle of wine. “The clerk assured me that nothing goes better with gummy bears than a nice merlot.”

“I find a cool, crisp chardonnay really brings out the flavor of the green ones.”

He lifted a brow. “You separate out the colors as you eat them?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

He chuckled. “No.” He moved toward the refrigerator with a grocery bag in hand. “I also brought a couple of steaks and baking potatoes that we can throw on the grill later.”

Kyle returned with sparkly shoes now on her feet. “Can we go, Mama?” she asked. “Is it time?”

“I think somebody's getting anxious,” Ryder told her.

“She's been asking the same question since we got home from the school party,” Lauryn told him.

“Are you comin' twick-or-tweatin' wif us, Wyder?”

“Yes, I am,” he said.

“But you're not dwessed up.”

He feigned shock. “You don't recognize my costume?”

She shook her head.

“I'm Ryder to the Rescue,” he said with a dramatic flourish, making her giggle. “I save home owners from leaky pipes and crumbling plaster. And sometimes I even take princesses door-to-door on Halloween night.”

Lauryn boosted Zachary onto her hip. “Let's go, princess and Ryder to the Rescue, before this pumpkin turns into a grumpy bear.”

* * *

It was nice to have company on the outing. Lauryn particularly appreciated a second set of adult eyes watching over Kylie as there were always so many people milling about—many of them unrecognizable in their costumes—that she worried about losing sight of her daughter. At least she didn't have to be concerned about Zachary, who was content—at least this year—to ride along in his stroller.

“Did you make her costume?” Ryder asked when they were stopped at the end of a driveway watching Kylie make her way to the front door. “It looks like a real dress.”

“It was Maura's flower girl dress when her dad married Rachel.” She smiled at the memory. “Of course, she was eight at the time, so I had to take in the sides and chop several inches off the hem. But after that, I just sewed on a lot of sparkling beads and stuff to make it look more princess-y.”

“You did a great job.”

“Thanks, but I was actually hoping she'd want to be something more traditional—like a black cat or a ghost,” she admitted.

“What's wrong with her being a princess?” he asked.

Lauryn shrugged. “I'm just worried that I'm not doing her any favors by perpetuating her illusions about fairy tales and happy endings.”

“She's three,” he reminded her. “She should believe in happy endings.”

“Maybe,” she said dubiously.

“Just because your Prince Charming turned out to be a frog is no reason to undermine her beliefs,” he chided gently.

“Is that what you think I'm doing?” she asked, frowning as she realized he might be right.

“I don't know—is it?”

She sighed. “Maybe.”

“And maybe your Prince Charming wasn't really a prince but the big bad wolf in disguise,” he suggested.

“Now you're mixing up your fairy tales,” she told him.

“My point is that you should have faith that the real Prince Charming is somewhere in your future. Or maybe even—” he slung an arm across her shoulders “—in your present.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “I always thought Prince Charming would wear a crown.”

“That's only in the storybooks—in real life, he sometimes wears a tool belt.”

* * *

When they had headed out at six thirty, Kylie had skipped down the driveway with an empty trick-or-treat bag and a heart full of excitement and enthusiasm. It wasn't even seven thirty when Kylie opened her bag to show her mother the contents. “Look, Mama, it's almost fulled up.”

“Already? That's great.”

“You're only saying that because you want to go home,” Ryder guessed, speaking in a low tone so that only Lauryn could hear.

“I would like to get Zachary into bed at his usual time,” she acknowledged.

“I can stay out with Kylie if you want to take him home,” Ryder offered.

“That's not necessary,” she said, watching as Kylie made her way up the flagstone walk of the next house. “Her energy will fade before much longer.”

“That's something I have yet to see,” he noted.

Lauryn smiled. “You will tonight. She'll go full speed ahead right up to the moment that she crashes.”

Which was exactly what she did a short while later. They were three blocks from home when Kylie suddenly seemed to droop at her mother's feet, her bag of candy falling to the sidewalk. “I tired, Mama. You ca-wy me?”

Lauryn had no objections to carrying her daughter from the living room to her bed when she fell asleep downstairs—or even from the van into the house—but three blocks was another matter.

“Why don't you stand on the back of Zachary's stroller?” she suggested as an alternative.

Kylie shook her head. “My feets hurt.”

“This sounds like a job for Ryder to the Rescue,” he interjected, swooping down and lifting her high in the air to settle her on his shoulders.

The little girl screeched with terrified glee and grabbed hold of his hair so that it stood up in little tufts where her fingers grasped it. The scream had given Lauryn's heart a jolt—her daughter's precarious position jolted it again. She opened her mouth to demand that Ryder put Kylie down, then she saw the breathless smile on Kylie's face and the words stuck in her throat.

Lauryn couldn't begin to count the number of times she'd been carried like that on her father's shoulders when she was a child. It had been the perfect vantage point to watch the Fourth of July parade on Main Street or to look at the newly hatched baby birds in a nest in their backyard, and it was her favorite way to be carried when her own legs had been too tired to walk any farther.

The memories flooded back to her as she watched Ryder with her daughter, and something deep inside of her opened up, like a flower blooming in response to the warmth of the sun.

And that was before Kylie rested her chin on top of Ryder's head and said, “This was the bestest Halloween ever.”

* * *

Ryder had just poured the wine when Kylie came back downstairs after her bath. Her costume was gone, but she was wearing a princess nightgown with fuzzy slippers on her feet.

“She wanted to say good-night,” Lauryn explained.

“Of course,” he said. Then to Kylie, he said, “Good night, princess.”

She smiled shyly. “Kiss?”

He kissed her puckered lips.

“Will you come twick-or-tweatin' wif me again next year?” she asked softly.

Over the years, he'd been invited to countless events by numerous women, but he was certain he'd never received a more beguiling invitation. He nodded without hesitation. “It's a date.”

She smiled again. “Night night, Wyder.”

Lauryn took her hand and led her daughter up to bed. When she came back a few minutes later, it was with a worried expression on her face.

“I wish you hadn't done that,” she said to him.

“What did I do?”

“You told Kylie that you'd go trick-or-treating with her next year.”

“I don't see the problem,” he admitted.

She folded her arms across her chest. “She might only be three and a half, but she's already had enough experience with disappointment in her life.”

“I have no intention of disappointing your daughter,” he assured her.

“Next Halloween is a whole year away,” she pointed out. “You probably don't even know where you'll be next October.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of the fact. “That's true.”

“And when you're not here, Kylie will be left wondering what she did wrong.”

“Wherever I might be, I'm sure I can come back to take her trick-or-treating,” he said reasonably. “And if I can't, I'll at least talk to her and let her know why.”

“Assuming that, twelve months from now, you remember an offhand promise that you made to a little girl.”