had never had a house of her own and was admittedly sensitive to a homey vibe. That said, after seeing Logan Hunt’s whole house there was no denying love at first sight. The realization made the ache inside her bigger. All she’d ever wanted was somewhere to belong with roots that went deep. A place that was all hers, that she could call home.
On the plus side, when this summer job was over she would have the money to put a down payment on property with her name on the title. She could picture it in her mind, a positive affirmation. Until then, her work environment was awesome.
But every plus had a minus, and his name was Logan Hunt.
* * *
Logan was doing his damnedest to be a good father, but very often his daughter had a way of proving that he was spitting into the wind.
“Daddy, you got soap in my eyes.” Cassie was sitting in the tub, rubbing her eyes.
“Sorry, baby girl.” He let the bathwater out, then turned on the tub’s spigot and used a plastic glass to pour fresh water over her head. “Is that better?”
She nodded. “I’m cold.”
“Got a towel right here.” He lifted her out and wrapped the thick terry cloth around her. “Let’s get you dry and in your nightgown, then I’ll brush your hair.”
“I don’t like that part.” She had blue eyes, light brown hair and the prettiest pout in the world. People always said she looked like him. He would take it, minus the pout part.
“Do you want Grace to brush your hair?”
Cassie thought for a moment. “Maybe you should show her how first.”
That meant sharing confined bathroom space with her, but there didn’t seem a way out of it. “Okay. I’ll go get her while you finish drying off and put on your nightgown.”
“Okay.”
Logan left and found Grace in her room unpacking. He stood in the open doorway, taking in the fresh pretty sight of her. The first time he’d seen Grace Flynn was when he interviewed her. It felt as if he’d been slugged in the gut with a sledgehammer. The second time was this afternoon when she’d arrived for work, and the sledgehammer felt more like a bulldozer. She wasn’t cover-model beautiful, but that mouth... Her full lips looked as soft as cotton candy and twice as sweet. More temptation than he was prepared to deal with.
The problem was, she was perfect for this job, except the part where Logan wanted to find out if she might be attracted to him, too. He would know only if he made a move on her and that was out of the question. But accepting that didn’t make the wanting go away. Why couldn’t she be a sweet old lady? Or even a crabby one who was great with kids? Since luck had never been on his side, there was no reason to hope for a change now.
Hiring her to take care of his daughter was trouble with a capital T, but by the time he’d met her Cassie’s mom had all but signed her onto the payroll. His approval was more symbolic than anything, and her credentials were impeccable. No way could he admit he was the problem and why that was. So Grace was here for the next eight weeks.
God help him.
He cleared his throat. “Grace—”
“Oh, my God!” She whirled around, dropping the stack of panties and bras she’d been about to put in a drawer. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that her panties were skimpy, lacy and at least one pair was red and one black. Might have been a pink one, too, but verifying would mean staring and that wasn’t smart. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Maybe I should wear a bell around my neck.”
“Works for me.” She blew out a breath. “Is there something you needed?”
That was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one, but that’s not what she meant. “Cassie’s finished in the tub and I’m going to brush out her hair. She thought you might want to watch, in case you have to do it.”
“Of course. Hair brushing doesn’t have a steep learning curve, but she’s only five. Easing into the situation to make the transition smoother is a great idea.”
“She does have a mind of her own. Sometimes it’s better just to go with it.” He turned away, knowing she was crossing the room to follow. Not that he was psychic. The scent of her perfume grew stronger and settled inside him. He was pretty sure he could find her in a pitch-black room.
In the bathroom Cassie had pulled some girlie nightgown over her head and stood waiting for them. She grinned. “Hi, Grace. I’m all clean.”
“I see that. And your hair is all wet.”
“I know. Daddy’s going to show you how he combs all the tangles out. He learned from Mommy.”
He grabbed the special spray hair product and squirted the liquid on her head, then picked up the wide-toothed comb to slowly drag it from her forehead all the way past her shoulders. “Are you sure you don’t want to get all this cut off?”
“No!” Cassie and Grace spoke together.
Logan looked from the small female to the taller one. “I guess it’s unanimous.”
“Your hair is gorgeous,” Grace told the little girl. “Don’t let him talk you into cutting it.”
“No way.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m glad Grace is here.”
“Yeah.” He met her gaze and forced himself not to look at her mouth. If it was up to him, he would advise her to get out before his bad rubbed off on her. Surely there was a woman over sixty in Blackwater Lake who could do this job.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie,” Grace said. “But I have to say your dad is doing a great job.”
“You sound surprised.” He continued working out the tangles with the comb.
“Maybe a little. She has thick hair, but you make it look easy.”
“Daddy says it’s not that different from brushing the horses.” Cassie giggled, and her tone said she liked ratting him out.
Humor sparkled in Grace’s eyes. “So you use a pricey hair product to detangle horse hair in order to not hurt their delicate scalp?”
“What if I said yes?” He couldn’t resist smiling at that.
“I’d say you have some very pampered horses here on the ranch.”
On one knee behind his daughter, Logan slowly pulled the plastic comb through the long hair as gently as possible. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her for anything. “Horses are a business asset, and it wouldn’t be smart to neglect them. They serve a purpose and need to be maintained. Just like a car or any other piece of equipment.”
“Agreed.” But she looked puzzled. “And yet, I can’t help wondering about the context of the conversation that you had with Cassie, comparing her hair to brushing a horse.”
“This little girl wouldn’t hold still.”
Cassie nodded, throwing off the comb and proving the truth of his words. “Daddy said the horses didn’t move while he was brushin’ ’em. And he betted me I couldn’t be like a horse.”
“Did he now?” Grace nodded her approval. “Who won the bet?”
“Daddy did.” She sighed. “Holding still is really hard.”
“Are the horses older than five?”
“Not all of them.” Logan stopped combing and looked up at her. “But I see where you’re going with this. Chronological age doesn’t work the same in horses as it does in humans.”
Cassie had the expression on her face that said she thought he hung the moon. “My daddy knows everything. Don’t you, Daddy?”