Building the Perfect Daddy (18 page)

“She's willing to give me another chance,” he told her. “And to put me in charge of the retail side of her business.”

“So you're going back to California?”

He nodded, and she slowly released the breath she'd been holding.

“Are you going to marry her?”

“Roxi doesn't believe that a relationship needs to be sanctioned by religious or government authorities,” he said, obviously quoting his girlfriend.

“The baby might change her mind about that,” Lauryn told him.

“Maybe,” he said again, with little enthusiasm. “You know, when we got married, I really thought we'd be together forever.”

“So did I.”

“I don't know when that changed,” he admitted. “But somewhere along the line, I started to realize that I was letting you down. And that was the beginning of a vicious cycle—I felt like a terrible husband, so I acted like a terrible husband.”

“I never had any grand ideals or expectations,” she said. “I just wanted us to be partners in our marriage, to work together and build a family.”

“And when I failed to do my part, you managed everything without me. You never needed me.”

“That's not true,” she denied.

“Maybe you wanted me,” he allowed, “but you didn't really need me. I failed you in so many ways, and you just did whatever needed to be done. You took care of the house, the baby, everything, and so competently I couldn't help but feel extraneous.

“Roxi isn't like you,” he said now. “Being on her own for the past couple of weeks has made her realize that she needs me—and I think, maybe, I need to be needed.”

“Your children need you.” As much as she would like to see the back of him, she had to think about Kylie and Zachary and what was best for them. And she couldn't help but worry about the void his absence would again leave in the lives of their children—especially Kylie's.

“No, they don't. Not really. They're already more bonded to your new boyfriend than they are to me.”

She couldn't deny that was true and she refused to feel guilty about it. If she felt guilty for anything, it was telling Ryder that her ex-husband was the only father her children had, because she knew now that wasn't true. Ryder had been there for both Kylie and Zachary in so many ways, proving that actions were a stronger measure than biology when it came to parenting.

“If I had any doubts about that, they were put to rest that day at your house—when Kylie and Zachary both turned to him instead of me. That's when I realized that I either needed to figure out how to be the full-time father my kids deserve or let them get on with their lives without me. But if I stay here, I'm abandoning another kid—Roxi's baby.”

“Go back to California,” she advised. “Take this second chance to be a dad—and do it right this time.”

He seemed surprised—and grateful—that she was letting him off the hook, then he nodded. “I'm going to try.” He stood up and hugged her. “Have a good life, Lauryn.”

“I will,” she said. “Good luck to you.”

As Rob was on his way out, he passed Ryder on his way in.

“How long were you standing there?” Lauryn asked.

“Long enough,” he said. “But I had no intention of interrupting what looked like a goodbye.”

“It
was
a goodbye,” she assured him. “Rob's going back to the west coast.”

“How do you feel about that?” he asked cautiously.

“A lot relieved and a little sad—not that he's leaving but that he couldn't be the father Kylie and Zachary deserve.”

“Lucky for them, they've got a really awesome mom.”

And you
, she wanted to tell him. Because she'd finally recognized the truth he'd alluded to that day in her office. And although he seemed to have forgiven her thoughtlessly cruel words, Lauryn was determined to make it up to him by loving him for as long as he would let her.

* * *

Lauryn had always enjoyed celebrating the holidays with her extended family. She considered herself fortunate that she'd grown up with not just two sisters but a whole bunch of cousins, and as those cousins married and had babies, she was happy to see the next generation hanging out together.

She was even happier to see Braden sitting on the sofa in Aunt Jane's living room with Vanessa in his arms. It was no secret that her cousin loved kids—or that he and his wife had been trying for several years to have one of their own. During that time, they'd skipped a lot of family gatherings. Lauryn knew it had to be difficult for both of them to be surrounded by other people's babies, so she was thrilled to see that they were here today—and that Braden was playing the doting uncle.

Lauryn took her glass of wine and settled onto the sofa beside him. “She's gorgeous, isn't she?”

“Of course, she's a Garrett,” Braden said immodestly. Then he glanced across the room to where Justin's wife was in conversation with his own. “Although her mom's got pretty good genes, too.”

“Speaking of her mom—how did you manage to wrestle Vanessa away from Avery?”

“No wrestling required,” he said. “I just told her that I needed practice for when our baby comes.”

Lauryn's gaze immediately shifted from his smiling face to that of his not obviously pregnant wife across the room. “Are you... I mean, is Dana...”

He shook his head. “No, she's not pregnant. But if all goes according to plan, we'll have our own bundle of joy before the end of the year.”

“What's the plan?” she asked cautiously.

“A private adoption. We've already signed the papers, we're just waiting for the baby to be born.”

“Oh, Braden, that's wonderful,” she said, sincerely thrilled for her cousin and his wife.

“It is,” he agreed. “Although we're trying not to get too excited about it. Even though we've met with the birth mother and she's adamant that this is what she wants, there's always a possibility that she'll change her mind when she holds her baby in her arms.”

Lauryn nodded, already praying that Braden and Dana wouldn't suffer such a heartbreaking disappointment. They'd both been through so much already.

“The way this family's been growing, we're going to need another table for holiday meals pretty soon,” she said, focusing on the positive.

“Speaking of additions to the family,” Braden said, grinning, “tell me about the new guy in your life.”

* * *

While Lauryn was catching up with Braden in the family room, Ryder had been cornered by Jordyn in the den. Over the past couple of months, he'd gotten to know both of Lauryn's sisters pretty well—and he knew that none of them had any secrets from the others. And while Tristyn had given an enthusiastic thumbs-up to Lauryn's relationship with him, he sensed that Jordyn was still reserving judgment.

“You must be getting close to finishing up the renovations at Lauryn's house,” she noted.

“It won't be too much longer,” he confirmed.

“And then what happens?” she prompted.

“Are you inquiring about the schedule for my crew or asking about my personal plans?”

“I shouldn't be asking about anything,” she admitted. “Lauryn would be the first to tell me that your relationship is none of my business, but she's had a rough year and I'm a little concerned that her feelings for you aren't reciprocated to the same degree.”

“You're right—our relationship isn't any of your business,” he agreed. “But I know you're motivated by concern, so I'll tell you—I'm in love with your sister.”

The furrow between Jordyn's brows eased a little. “The ring-on-her-finger, forever-after kind of love?”

“Do you want to see the ring?” he asked. He'd bought a diamond solitaire a few days earlier, when he'd realized that he couldn't imagine his future without Lauryn in it. He still had a lot to learn about family, but he was confident that she could teach him everything he needed to know.

“You have a ring?” Jordyn asked, surprised excitement successfully pushing aside any lingering apprehension.

“I have a ring,” he confirmed. “But I'd appreciate it if you kept that bit of information between us for now.”

“I'll keep your secret,” she said. “But don't wait too long to ask her—I'd like to be a bridesmaid before next summer.”

He grinned. “I'll see what I can do.”

Chapter Eighteen

T
he day after Thanksgiving, while most people were either sleeping off their overindulgence or racing for Black Friday sales, Ryder's crew was back on the job, eager to finish up so that they might enjoy an extended break over the Christmas holiday. And Lauryn was continuing to celebrate all the reasons she had to be thankful, because Kylie didn't seem bothered at all by the news that her father had gone back to California. Of course, Ryder's presence more than filled the void, and watching the sexy handyman with her children, Lauryn found herself starting to believe that maybe her real Prince Charming did wear a tool belt.

She was smiling at the thought as she carried a basket of clothes up to Kylie's room, the sounds of the men working almost like background music to her now. She'd thought she would hate the noise and debris and especially the intrusion into her home and her life, but over the past couple of months, she'd grown accustomed to the high-pitched buzz of saws and rhythmic
thunk
of nail guns that somehow blended together to create a not-unpleasant melody. In fact, she was beginning to suspect that she might miss the crew when they packed up and cleared out after the last stage of the renovation was complete.

Across the hall in the master bedroom, Stan and Brody were completing what Ryder referred to as punch-out work—the last-minute small details that needed to be taken care of before a job was done. She was eager to see the finished project—and excited to sleep in an actual bed again rather than the futon in the den that had been her temporary quarters while the renovations in her bedroom were underway.

She could hear the men talking, but she wasn't really listening until she heard them mention Watkinsville. The name snagged her attention because she remembered Ryder telling her that was the location of the antebellum mansion he was hoping to restore. She paused in the doorway of Kylie's room, hugging the laundry basket close to her chest as she shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Are you planning to go?” Stan asked his coworker.

“I'd love to,” Brody said. “But Melanie would have my hide. She's due the beginning of March and if I'm not here when the baby's born, there will be hell to pay.”

“Maybe you can join the crew afterward,” Stan suggested. “The boss seems to think we'll be there fifteen to eighteen months.”

“Which is pretty much the first year and more of my son's life,” Brody pointed out.

“It's a boy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Brody confirmed, and she could hear the pride and pleasure in his voice. “The latest ultrasound confirmed it.”

The conversation continued on that topic and Lauryn continued on her way to Kylie's room. But the whole time she was putting her daughter's clothes away, the workers' voices echoed in her head.
Watkinsville. Fifteen to eighteen months. Watkinsville
...

She dumped the dirty laundry from the bathroom hamper into the basket and had turned to head back downstairs, almost colliding with Brody when he stepped out of the master bedroom.

“Let me take that for you,” he offered.

“Thanks,” she said, relinquishing her hold on the basket, though the weight of it was insignificant compared to the heaviness in her heart.

“Do you like the new main floor laundry?” he asked, as they headed in that direction.

“I love it,” she told him. “It's a relief not having to carry everything down to the basement and back up again.”

“I imagine, with two little ones, you're doing a lot of laundry.”

“Constantly,” she agreed, marveling at the ease with which she was managing to make conversation despite the fact that her heart was breaking. “I hear you're going to have a little one soon, too.”

The expectant father nodded. “Early March, if the baby comes on schedule.”

“Babies come on their own schedules,” she told him.

He grinned. “Yeah, I've already been warned.”

As she followed Brody to the new laundry room, she realized that, with two exceptions, Ryder had left his mark in every single room of her house. In addition to the complete overhaul of the kitchen, his crew had patched and painted most of the other rooms, added new crown moldings and trim and updated the lighting. They'd refinished the fireplace and added built-in bookcases in the den, replaced all of the bathroom fixtures, vanities and tile. She had yet to see what they'd done in the master bedroom, but she didn't doubt that it would be equally fabulous. The only two rooms that hadn't been touched were Kylie's and Zachary's rooms. But there, Ryder had left his stamp on their hearts.

This house hadn't been her first choice when she and Rob were looking to buy, but she'd seen the potential in it and believed he would help with the necessary work to make it more distinctly their own. After her husband left, she'd hated the house and viewed every room as just another promise unfulfilled.

Ryder had given her back her home. When she looked around now, she loved everything about it because it felt as if it was truly hers. But not exclusively, because Ryder was everywhere. In every room, she saw not just the changes he'd made but the light of his smile and the sparkle in his eyes; she heard the echo of his voice and the sound of his laughter in the walls. It wasn't just her house—it was the house that Ryder built for her, and she really wished he could stay and share it with her and Kylie and Zachary. But that, she realized now, was a foolish wish.

She'd become so accustomed to having him around she hadn't let herself think about what would happen when the renovations were complete. Of course, he would move on to other projects—she'd always known that. But she hadn't anticipated that moving on would mean moving away.

And far more troubling to her than the realization that he was leaving was his complete silence on the subject. He'd told her about the Georgia project almost two months earlier, lamenting the delays and questioning whether the owners would ever get the necessary approvals to proceed with the work. But he hadn't mentioned it again since then.

The way Stan and Brody had been talking upstairs, the project was a go, with the team heading to Georgia early in the New Year. And Ryder hadn't said one word.

The only explanation she could imagine to explain his silence was that he'd never intended for their relationship to last beyond the completion of this project. When he was finished with her renovations, he would be finished with her, too.

She sorted through the laundry, tossing the darks into the washing machine and fighting back the tears that burned her eyes. After everything she'd been through in the past year, she wasn't going to fall apart over the end of a short-term relationship.

Except that she hadn't thought of it as a short-term relationship. Even in the beginning, when she'd tried to convince herself that she didn't want anything more than a casual fling, her heart had never believed it. And as the days had turned into weeks, she'd thought they were building something together. Or had she misread his signals?

But he was the one who'd convinced her to introduce him to her family at Thanksgiving. He was the one who'd told her that he loved her. And he'd made her fall all the way, head over heels in love with him in return. Even more damning, he'd made her children fall in love with him. Kylie and Zachary lit up whenever he walked into a room. They looked forward to seeing him every day—and they were going to be devastated when he was gone.

And once again she would be left behind to pick up the broken pieces of all of their hearts. It was her own fault. She'd known it was too soon, too risky. But her foolish heart had refused to be dissuaded.

And what was she supposed to do now? How could she continue to pretend that everything was okay when it was only a matter of time before he walked away from them?

The answer was simple—she couldn't. And since he hadn't told her about the Watkinsville project, she attempted to broach the subject herself.

“When do you think your crew is going to finish up here?” she asked Ryder later that night.

“If everything goes according to schedule, we should be done by the end of next week,” he told her.

“And what are your plans after that?”

“After that, we'll take a few weeks off so everyone can enjoy the holidays with their families.”

“Do you have any special plans?” she prompted.

He put his arms around her and brushed his lips against hers. “To spend as much time as possible with you.”

Then he kissed her again until she forgot about pressing him for more details. Until she forgot about everything but how wonderful it felt to be in his arms.

* * *

She tried again the next morning, but his answers continued to be noncommittal and evasive. Even when she asked him point-blank about the Georgia restoration, he only said that Owen was working on it.

She gave up asking and decided just to enjoy the time they had together now and store up all the memories she could for the lonely days and nights after he was gone.

But apparently she wasn't as successful at hiding her true feelings as she thought. While Christmas shopping with her sisters, they decided to take a break and indulge in peppermint mochas.

“What's going on with you?” Jordyn asked her, when they'd settled at a table with their beverages. “Physically you're here, but your mind is obviously somewhere else.”

“I'm guessing it's with Ryder,” Tristyn teased.

“I'm sorry. I was thinking about Ryder,” she admitted. “And the expiration date on our relationship.”

Jordyn frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He's packing up his tools and moving to Watkinsville in the New Year,” she said miserably.

“Watkinsville, Georgia?” Tristyn asked.

She nodded.

“Why would he be going there?”

“For the next
Ryder to the Rescue
project.”

“So he'll be gone a few weeks,” her youngest sister said, unconcerned. “And then he'll be back.”

But Lauryn shook her head. “It's a major restoration that will take months, maybe more than a year.”

“Well, Watkinsville isn't that far,” Jordyn pointed out.

“No,” she agreed. “But he hasn't said anything to me about what's going to happen when he's gone. He hasn't even told me about the project.”

“Then how do you know he's going?” Tristyn asked.

“I heard a couple of the guys talking about it, but Ryder hasn't said a word. Doesn't that tell me everything I need to know?”

“I don't think it does,” Jordyn denied.

“And I don't think you should jump to any conclusions without talking to him,” Tristyn added.

“I've tried talking to him,” she admitted. “And his answers to my questions are all deliberately vague.”

“That doesn't sound like him.”

“I didn't think so, either. And as incredible as the past two months have been with him, I have to accept that there's not going to be a storybook ending for us.”

“We know you're wary of being hurt again,” Tristyn said gently. “But I think, if you give him a chance, you'll discover that Ryder is your Prince Charming.”

Lauryn shook her head. “It's long past time for me to stop believing in fairy tales.”

“Just be careful not to close the book before the last page is written,” Jordyn cautioned.

* * *

A few days later, when Lauryn found herself still mulling over her middle sister's cryptic remark, she decided that she was making too much of it. As the illustrator of AK Channing's stories, Jordyn lived in a world of science fiction and fantasy, but Lauryn had to face the realities of her current situation.

And then, one night early in December when she was tucking the kids into bed, Ryder slipped out of the house to get something from his truck.

Lauryn finished reading Kylie's bedtime story, then made her way back down the stairs just as Ryder was setting an enormous dollhouse down in the middle of the living room.

No, not a dollhouse, she realized. An absolutely breathtaking fairy-tale castle.

“Did you make this?” she asked, seriously amazed by the magnitude of the project.

He nodded. “It's for Kylie. For Christmas.”

“Christmas is still three weeks away,” she pointed out.

“I know, but I wanted to show it to you.” He opened it up so that she could see the inside. “What do you think?”

“It's stunning,” she told him, kneeling to more closely inspect the details.

“I didn't make the furniture and accessories,” he admitted. “Those were beyond my skills—or at least my patience.”

But every room was immaculately decorated and beautifully furnished. The windows had lace curtains, the floors had wool rugs and there were miniature portraits and paintings on the walls. The bedrooms had fancy beds with quilted covers, wardrobes and dressers; the nursery had a cradle, a change table and rocking chair; the bathroom had a toilet, a claw-foot tub and even an oval mirror above the pedestal sink. There were dishes in the kitchen cabinets, books on the shelves in the library and even a laundry room with a washer, dryer, iron and board.

“So who did the decorating?” she wondered.

“Monica Snyder—the show's interior designer. She was desperate for something to do while her leg is healing.”

“This is amazing,” she said.

“And check this out.” He knelt beside her and touched a button beside the center door, illuminating all of the chandeliers and lamps—even the flames in the fireplace flickered.

“Kylie's going to love it,” she told him. “Unfortunately, you've set the bar a little high for Santa now.”

“What do you mean?”

“No other Christmas gift is ever going to top that.”

“We'll see,” he said vaguely.

“Don't you dare give her a puppy,” she warned.