Building the Perfect Daddy (8 page)

“It's gas,” Avery said, rolling her eyes.

“It is
not
,” he denied. “She knows her favorite uncle when she's looking at him.”

“Justin has two brothers who might want to challenge that title.”

“But they're not here right now and I am,” he said, unfastening the plastic buckle around the baby's belly and lifting her from her seat.

“She's going to be hungry,” Avery said. “Every three hours like clockwork.”

“Well, she's not fussing right now,” he noted, tucking her into the crook of his arm. “But maybe she should eat—she still doesn't weight half as much as my tool belt.”

“She's gained over a pound since we brought her home from the hospital.”

“That hardly makes her a heavyweight.”

“Dr. Kertz is pleased with her progress,” she assured him.

“What does he think of that flower growing out of her head?” he asked, studying the fabric daisy with apparent concern.

“It's a headband,” she said. “She doesn't have a lot of hair yet, and I want people to know that she's a girl.”

He looked around the condo. “What people? And isn't the pink outfit enough of a clue?”

She shrugged. “Justin came home with all of these little accessories for her—headbands and frilly socks—and I know he likes to see her wearing them.”

“Speaking of your husband, this is the first time I've been here and not found him hovering over both of you.”

“He's at the hospital today.”

“Are you itching to get back?” he wondered.

“I thought I would be,” she admitted. “But I'm going to take some time, then Justin and I want to coordinate our schedules so that one of us is with Vanessa as much as possible.”

“Not planning on hiring a nanny?”

“Not ruling it out,” she acknowledged. “But if we did, it would only be for a few hours a day—I have no intention of paying someone else to raise my child.”

“You're already a better mother than ours ever was,” Ryder told her.

“Daddyhood looks like it would fit you pretty well, too,” she noted.

He immediately shook his head and shoved the baby at his sister. “No way. I'm not ready to be domesticated.”

But then he remembered the way Kylie had looked at him, with absolute trust in her big blue eyes. And the way he'd felt, like he was a superhero, when she'd wrapped her arms around him. And he considered that being a daddy—under the right circumstances and in the distant future—might not be so bad.

“Since you mentioned our mother,” Avery began, settling the baby against her shoulder.

“Just a slip of the tongue,” he assured her.

“Well, she's coming to town next weekend to meet her granddaughter.”

“Really?”

“I was as surprised as you are,” she admitted. “And I'm not entirely convinced that her plans won't change between now and then, but if they don't...could you pick her up at the airport?”

“Can't she take a cab?”

“Come on, Ryder—she's our mother.”

“I'm still not entirely convinced,” he said. “When I visited her lab in Atlanta, I got a much warmer feeling from one of the test tubes.”

“Ha-ha.” But he could tell his sister wasn't amused.

He sighed. “When does her flight get in?”

“I'll text the details to you as soon as they're confirmed,” she told him. “Thank you.”

“You know I can't say ‘no' to you, but if you're expecting a happy family reunion next weekend, you're going to be disappointed.”

“I was thinking birthday party rather than reunion,” she admitted.

“No way,” he said firmly.

“But I always make dinner for you on your birthday.”

“That was before you had a husband and a baby to take care of.”

“As surprising as it may seem, neither getting married nor giving birth stripped me of my ability to cook.”

“I'm sure that's true,” he said. “But, as it turns out, I already have plans for dinner on my birthday.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why don't I believe you?”

“Apparently you're cynical and untrusting—you should work on that.”

His sister was undeterred. “Who are these plans with?”

“You know I don't kiss and tell.”

“Well, don't be kissing my husband's cousin,” she said.

He frowned, uncomfortable with his sister's uncanny ability to read his thoughts and feelings. “Where did
that
come from?”

“I've known you forever,” she reminded him. “So I know that what you don't say is often more telling than what you do.”

“Well, you're way off base this time,” he told her.

“I hope I am,” she said. “But you've never walked away from anything that needed to be fixed.”

“Houses,” he clarified. “I fix houses.”

“And while you're renovating Lauryn's kitchen, you'll likely be spending a fair amount of time with her.”

“I've lost count of the number of kitchen renos I've done,” he told her. “There's no cause for concern on this one.”

“Those Garretts have a way of sneaking into your heart when you least expect it,” she warned.

“You don't have to worry—single moms aren't my type,” he assured her.

“And doctors weren't mine,” she said pointedly.

Chapter Eight

L
auryn was on her way back downstairs after tucking Kylie into bed Sunday night when she saw headlights turn into the driveway. As the vehicle drew closer to the house, she recognized it as Jordyn's hatchback.

She didn't know why her sister had stopped by, but she was grateful for any distraction from thoughts of the upcoming renovation that had plagued her throughout the day. She only hoped it was the inevitable mess and presence of the construction crews that worried her, rather than the man who was the center of the show.

“You're eleven hours early,” she said, meeting her sister at the door.

“I didn't forget about the taping tomorrow,” Jordyn assured her. “But I wanted to get this to you tonight.”

“What's this?” she asked, taking the proffered folder.

“A business proposal.” Jordyn kicked off her shoes and headed down the hall.

As her sister helped herself to a can of soda from the fridge, Lauryn settled at the table and opened the cover of the folder. She quickly scanned the contents and was already shaking her head before she got to the bottom of the first page. “I can't let you invest in the business.”

“Why not?”

“Because it's too risky. The Locker Room hasn't been in the black for the past three years.”

“Because it's been poorly inventoried, overstaffed and mismanaged,” her sister pointed out, pouring the soda into a glass.

“All of that's true,” she agreed. “And there's no guarantee that I can turn it around.”

“You're a Garrett,” Jordyn reminded her, conveniently ignoring the fact that Lauryn's surname had been Schulte for more than six years. And while Lauryn had been tempted to take back “Garrett” when her husband walked out, she'd decided to keep “Schulte” for the sake of her kids.

“And with two more Garretts on board—and countless others waiting in the wings to offer advice and expertise you may not want or need—I don't see any other possible scenario,” Jordyn continued.

Lauryn couldn't help but smile at that, but still she hesitated to take what her sisters were offering. She'd made mistakes in her life and she was paying for them—she didn't want her sisters to pay, too. The amount of money that Rob had dumped into the store—and lost—was staggering to her, and she didn't know if it was even possible to get out of the mountain of debt he'd left behind. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but—”

“No buts,” Jordyn said, sitting across from her. “Tristyn and I are both committed to this.”

“When did you come up with this plan? I only told you about the situation at breakfast yesterday.”

“She stopped by the house on her way to Charlotte this morning. Interestingly enough, we were both already thinking along the same lines.”

“Did you talk to Marco about this?” she asked, aware that her sister's husband had a lot invested in his own business ventures.

“Of course, I did. And he fully supports what we're doing.”

“Because he hasn't seen the books,” Lauryn said, only half joking.

“Because he knows that I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have complete faith in you,” her sister clarified.

Still, Lauryn hesitated.

“Stop being stubborn,” Jordyn told her. “You don't have to do everything on your own.”

“I know. I just don't want to count on other people to clean up my messes.”

“This wasn't your mess.”

“Wasn't it?” Lauryn challenged.

“Your only mistake was marrying a man who didn't deserve you,” her sister insisted.

Lauryn pulled the glass across the table and picked it up for a sip. “And I'm in the financial mess I'm in now because I married him.”

“Now you're being stupid as well as stubborn,” Jordyn said. “And if you don't take the deal that we're offering, we'll tell Dad.”

She choked on the soda. “Are we in grade school? If I don't do what you want, you're going to run and tell Daddy?”

“Yep.” Jordyn was unapologetic as she took her drink back. “And you know what he'll do—he'll buy the building, even the whole block, if necessary.”

Lauryn didn't doubt that it was true. It was one of the reasons she hadn't shared any of the details of the situation with her parents.

“The bank wouldn't give me any money.” She felt compelled to point that out to her sister. “Doesn't that tell you something about the state of the business?”

“It only tells me that I need to switch banks—and you probably should, too.”

Lauryn thumbed through the clearly drafted agreement again. Jordyn took a pen out of her pocket and set it down on top of the papers.

“I'm not signing anything without talking to my lawyer,” she said, attempting to stall her sister.

“Your lawyer drafted the agreement,” Jordyn told her.

“He did?”

“Do you think we'd trust anyone but Jackson with this?”

Of course not. And there wasn't anyone Lauryn trusted more than her sisters. This time when Jordyn nudged the pen toward her, Lauryn picked it up and signed her name.

* * *

Lauryn was expecting Ryder and his crew when they showed up at eight o'clock the next morning, but that didn't mean she was any more comfortable about the whole scenario. She hovered in the background as the camera operators and AV techs walked through the hall and the kitchen, figuring out where to set up lights and microphones and stationary cameras. By nine, they were ready to begin.

“This is our home owner, Lauryn Schulte, who lives in this 1972 traditional Foursquare with her children.”

The show's director, Owen Diercks, had wanted the kids on camera. “Our viewers love kids,” he told Lauryn. But Kylie, although already a fan of Ryder, was less certain about all of the other people who had invaded her home, and Lauryn wasn't prepared to force her outside of her comfort zone. As a result, after seeing her daughter safely onto the school bus, she'd opted for Zachary to remain off screen, too, under the watchful eyes of Jordyn and Tristyn.

“How long have you lived here, Lauryn?” Ryder asked her.

“A little more than six years now.”

“And how long have you been planning to renovate?”

“A little more than six years,” she admitted. “When we bought the house, the plan was to update the kitchen as soon as possible.”

“Obviously, that plan changed.”

“My husband had his own business, so he didn't have the time to do the renovations we wanted to do.

“In the beginning, I was employed full-time outside of the home, too. Then, after our daughter was born, I continued to work part-time in retail as well as take care of her.”

“And now you have two children?” Ryder prompted.

She nodded. “Kylie's three and a half and Zachary is seven months.”

“So when you heard about the Room Rescue contest, did you decide that would be the perfect opportunity to get a new kitchen?”

“Well, that's not quite how it happened,” she admitted. “In fact, I didn't even know about the contest—it was my sisters who filled out the application on my behalf.”

“How did you feel when you found out what they'd done?” he prompted.

“I was embarrassed that they had believed it was necessary to bring in outside help to complete the renovation—and because they were right. I've hated this kitchen for more than six years. I certainly didn't want to go on TV and show it off to your viewers.”

“Well, let's bring in your sisters now so that they can tell their side of the story.”

After Tristyn and Jordyn were introduced, they explained their decision to fill out an application on Lauryn's behalf—and expressed their excitement that the application had actually been chosen by Ryder for inclusion in the program.

“At this point, I would usually introduce you to Monica Snyder, our design expert,” Ryder said, speaking to the viewers as much as to Lauryn. “It's her job to meet with the home owners, to determine what changes they consider essential and what other features they would like to add to the room under renovation, then decide how to make it happen within the allotted budget.

“But Monica spent the weekend mountain biking at Warrior Creek, where she took an unfortunate spill and broke her leg.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Lauryn said, her concern immediate and genuine. “Is she going to be okay?”

Ryder nodded. “She's going to be fine, but she's also going to be in the hospital for a few days and laid up for several weeks after that.”

“So who's going to design my kitchen?” Lauryn asked, feeling slightly panicked.

“You are,” he told her. Then he dropped an enormous binder on the table in front of her. “With a little assistance from what Monica refers to as her planning bible.”

“I think I'm going to need a lot of assistance.”

“Haven't you been thinking about this kitchen renovation since you bought the house?”

She nodded. “I must have redesigned this room a dozen times in my mind over the years, but I never made any final decisions. Probably because I wasn't sure this renovation was ever going to happen.”

“It's going to happen now,” Ryder assured her.

And, surrounded by the cameras and his crew, she was finally starting to believe it.

* * *

The morning taping kept Lauryn tied up longer than she'd expected, and it was after noon before she was able to make her escape. Then she had to meet Kylie's bus, load both of the kids into the van and head over to her parents' house so that Susan could watch them while Lauryn relieved Bree, one of only two part-time employees at The Locker Room.

Thankfully, she didn't have to worry about feeding Kylie and Zachary. She'd called her mother before she left home to let her know they were going to be hungry, and Susan had lunch ready when they arrived—including a sandwich for Lauryn to take with her.
Thank goodness for my family
, she thought to herself as she kissed Kylie and Zachary, then gave her mom a quick hug. She honestly didn't know how she would've have made it through the past nine months without them.

Mondays tended to be quiet at the store. Not that The Locker Room did a brisk business any day of the week, but on Mondays, in particular, the hours seemed to drag. With few customers to tend to, Lauryn spent her time tidying up displays and re-shelving misplaced merchandise. When the bell over the door rang, she turned toward the front of the store with a ready smile on her face.

The smile froze when she recognized the man who walked through the door.

“Ryder.”

“Hello, Lauryn.”

“Is there something I can help you find?” she asked, pretending he was just another customer.

“Actually, I was looking for you,” he said. But he took a minute to glance around the store. “You've recently done some work in here.”

“A few cosmetic touches to refresh the store's image.”

“I like the color.”

“Jordyn has a good eye for that kind of thing.”

“An important quality in an artist, I would think.”

She seemed surprised that he'd remembered the detail that she'd dropped into a casual conversation several days earlier, but Ryder had always believed that good customer service started with paying attention to his clients and listening to what they wanted—which was why he was here.

“We need to decide on a cabinet style and color as soon as possible. My supplier is expecting a big order for a new development in the north end, and we want to get yours in ahead of that or the original four-to six-week time frame could end up being ten to twelve.”

“Then I guess I'd better decide on my cabinets.”

“Based on what seemed to catch your eye when you were looking through Monica's book, I've narrowed it down to three choices,” he told her, setting three photos on the counter.

“This is a shaker style, obviously in white. This is a mission style in cherry, and this is an inset design in dark walnut,” he told her, pointing to each picture in turn. “Of course, there are numerous other colors available in each of the styles—including birch and maple, which are both very popular.”

Her gaze shifted from one picture to the next and back again. “I like the crisp, clean look of this one,” she said, indicating the shaker style.

“It's a classic,” he assured her.

“But I'm not sure about the white—more specifically, how it will hold up against sticky fingers.”

“Peanut butter and jelly won't magically disappear, but they will wipe off easily.”

“On the other hand, this dark walnut has real impact.”

He smiled. “You're all over the map, aren't you?”

“I've been waiting a long time for this and I can't imagine that I'll ever want to redo the kitchen again, so I want to be sure that, whatever I choose, I'll be just as happy with it five or ten years from now as I am today.”

“That makes sense,” he agreed. “So why don't you hold on to the photos for now, but try to make a decision by Wednesday.”

She nodded as she gathered up the photos and tucked them beneath the counter. “I'll let you know when I've decided, but it won't be before tomorrow. I'm working here until the store closes at eight tonight.”

He scowled at that. “And then you've got to go home and pack up your kitchen?”

“Don't worry. Everything will be cleared out by the time your crew arrives in the morning,” she assured him.

“I'm not as concerned about the cupboards as I am about you—that's a long day.”

“I'm used to long days,” she said.

The next words were out of his mouth before he considered what he was offering—or wondered why. “I could bring over some boxes later and help with the packing up.”

“Thanks, but I can manage.”

“I'm sure you can,” he agreed. “But I don't understand why would you refuse the offer of free labor?”