was difficult to know whether his instinct on Crimson had more to do with the potential of the ski mountain or the potential to get some help with Rosie.
She looked up at him with those big blue eyes as he unstrapped her car seat. Faint shadows marred the soft skin under her eyes, and he hated how stressed she seemed at her young age. Maybe it had been a mistake to move her halfway across the country, but she hadn’t been any more content in LA and Shep had felt unable to devote the attention she needed with his California lifestyle. It might not be ideal to bring a baby near a construction site, but he was careful to keep her safe and away from where most of the actual work was taking place. Shep would never put his daughter in danger.
He picked her up, slammed the car door shut and shoved a few quarters into the meter.
“Buwrd,” Rosie said, pointing to a magpie keeping watch on the park across the street from a nearby lamppost. She grinned and squealed with delight when the bird spread its wings and swooped away. “Buwrd, Dada,” she shouted.
“Off to get lunch,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Just like us.”
“Mac-an,” she announced, clapping her hands. Thank heavens for macaroni and cheese, as it was one of the few foods his daughter would eat without coaxing.
“We’ll get you some mac and cheese,” he said, and was rewarded with a smacking kiss on the underside of his jaw. Oh, yeah. Wrapped around her finger tight.
A strand of bells rang cheerfully as he entered Life is Sweet bakery. He scanned the small crowd, then moved forward as Cole waved to him from a café table at the far end of the seating area.
His brother wore a tan shirt with a badge pinned just above his left breast pocket, darker pants and a holster around his waist. A Stetson sat on the table in front of him, and Cole looked every inch the upstanding Western lawman.
Which he was, Shep mused, long-simmering jealousy pricking at his spine. Cole had always been the good one—the golden child. It seemed to come so easy to him, the whole honorable deal, whereas Shep had chafed against his role as the “second son,” even if he’d been born a mere four minutes after his twin.
“Hey,” Cole said, moving his hat to the empty seat next to him. He shifted the high chair that had been pulled up to one side of the table. “Hi, Rosie. Are you ready for some lunch?”
As expected, Rosie tucked her face into the crook of Shep’s neck. “She can sit on my lap,” he told his brother, lowering himself into the metal chair across from Cole.
He looked down as Rosie shifted, glancing over at Cole then lowering her gaze. Cole and Shep were identical, so Rosie was slightly more comfortable with her uncle than with other adults.
To his credit, Cole didn’t push her to interact the way some people tried. “I can’t wait to eat,” he said with a gentle smile then turned his attention to Shep, his gaze sympathetic. “No babysitter today?”
Rosie stiffened. Merely hearing the dreaded word made her tense.
“Just me and my girl,” Shep said with false cheer. He rubbed a soothing hand over Rosie’s back. “We had a meeting at the ski resort today. Demo went well and they’re already starting framing. We should have plumbing, electrical and HVAC coming in next week.”
“Nice progress,” Cole said.
Shep laughed softly. “Rosie’s a hell of a taskmaster.”
Cole cringed. “I don’t think you’re supposed to swear in front of a kid.”
“Right,” Shep agreed with a sigh. He started to apologize to his toddler daughter only to realize her eyes had drifted shut. “Saved by the lack of nap schedule. Or any type of schedule for that matter.”
“It’s still bad?” Cole asked then glanced up as a pretty brunette approached the table.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to there being two of you in town,” Katie Crawford said with a wry grin. The bakery’s owner tipped her chin toward the gaggle of older women standing to one side of the counter. “Your weekly lunches are good for business, though. Normally the bridge ladies head over to the IHOP near the interstate.”
Shep felt his eyebrows furrow. “This is only the second time we’ve been here. I don’t think that counts as a weekly lunch.”
“Close enough,” Katie murmured. “And you brought your better half today.” She gingerly fingered the end of Rosie’s wispy hair. “Will she wake up to eat?”
“Maybe.” Honestly, Shep hoped not. Rosie needed sleep as badly as he did. “Can you bring a bowl of mac and cheese just in case?”
“Of course. And what can I get for the two of you?”
Cole and Shep ordered then Katie walked back toward the counter.
Shep took a long drink of the water Katie had left on the table. “It’s hard to believe everyone around here is so damn nice.”
Rosie twitched then settled against him again.
“Enough with the cursing around the baby,” Cole said, laughing softly. “Mom would skin you alive if she heard that.”
“Yeah.” Shep pressed two fingers to his forehead and sighed. Add cursing to the list of habits he needed to improve to be a decent father. “She would have loved Rosie,” he said softly.
“It broke her heart when you left.” Cole’s voice was strained.
“Don’t put that on me,” Shep shot back, forcing himself to remain calm so he wouldn’t wake his daughter. It was a challenge as a mix of guilt and anger rushed through him. This was the downside of being near Cole—the reminders of his mistakes and the pain he’d caused the people he loved the most.
Cole’s response to being hurt was to rise above it...to be the bigger man. Shep wanted to emotionally gut anyone who wronged him, and he didn’t care who ended up as collateral damage. In most cases, he’d done a bang-up job on that front, especially with his mother. But he wouldn’t take full blame.
“There wasn’t much left of her heart after Dad put that gun to his head,” he said, the words feeling even more like poison on his tongue while he held Rosie.
“She needed both of us.”
Shep barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you took care of her. You take care of everything. No one needs me if you’re around.”
“That’s not true,” Cole said, his mouth pulled tight.
“We both know it is,” Shep countered. “You were always number one.”
Cole opened his mouth to argue then shut it again. “I don’t want to have this conversation every time we’re together.”
They moved on to less contentious topics until Katie brought their food to the table, oblivious to or purposely ignoring the tension that crackled between them.
When she’d walked away again, Shep took a bite of his turkey sandwich, savoring the homemade bread and the tangy garlic mayo along with the thick cut of turkey breast. “Mine is better,” he said, lifting his sandwich in Cole’s direction.
“No way.” Cole picked up half of his chicken salad on wheat and placed it on Shep’s plate. “Try that.”
Suddenly the anger that had spiked in Shep seeped away, and he was back to every meal he’d ever eaten out with his brother. He handed his second half of sandwich to Cole. This was their routine. They ordered and then taunted the other with how much better their choice was. Then they traded portions.
Simple as that, and Shep realized how much he’d missed it. Ordering from a menu and being stuck with only one selection, even if it was great, was boring as hell.
“Turkey’s still better,” he said, taking a big bite of chicken salad. Behind him came the sound of giggling from the