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.
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