Ready for Marriage?: The Marriage Ultimatum / Laying His Claim / The Bride Tamer. BEVERLY BARTON
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‘‘Th-thank you.’’
She’d never made much effort with her clothes and looks before. Despite the fact that she was a truly lovely girl, she’d camouflaged herself so well that she’d gone virtually unnoticed by men. But since she’d begun her campaign to get his attention, he figured she’d decided to use her assets—and as far as he was concerned, she’d done a hell of a job. ‘‘Any special reason you dressed up?’’ he asked with a smile.
But the moment he spoke, her eyes went flat. The warmth and attraction in her gaze vanished so completely it was as if it had never existed. She tugged at her wrist until he let go. ‘‘I don’t want to be an old maid,’’ she said quietly. ‘‘From now on, I’m not going to hide when a man shows interest in me, and I’m not going to hide myself, either.’’
He didn’t like the sound of that and he frowned. ‘‘A man like Rusty Sheffield? Did he ask you out?’’
She shrugged. ‘‘It’s really not your business.’’
The hell it wasn’t. ‘‘He’s too immature for you.’’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘‘He’s four years older than I am! That’s hardly immature.’’
‘‘He’s been through practically every single woman in town. Do you want to be the subject of the weekly barbershop gossip?’’
‘‘It would be better than never being noticed at all,’’ she shot back. She looked angry now. ‘‘Rusty’s too immature and you’re too old. You’re not leaving me much of a window of opportunity here, Derek.’’
He wanted to shake her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her until she quit talking, and the only thing that saved her—and him—was the table between them. ‘‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt.’’ It was part of the truth, at least.
‘‘Oh, get over yourself,’’ she snapped. ‘‘You haven’t been my guardian for eight years now.’’ And before he could speak again, she snatched up a handful of dirty dishes and stalked off toward the trash can, her long legs eating up the ground as she moved away from him.
Wearily, he ran a hand through his hair. What was the matter with him? Every time he was around her these days, he seemed to provoke an argument. He really hadn’t intended to make her mad. He just didn’t want her going out with some jerk that might use her and hurt her.
Right. You want her for yourself and you just can’t admit it.
There’s nothing to admit, he defended himself staunchly to the inner voice that shouted for his attention. She’s like my family. I have to look out for her.
Since when does looking out for her include drooling over her legs and her lips?
He didn’t have an answer for that one.
The last few weeks of June were hectic.
Kristin informed him on the Monday after Summerfest that the day care right down the street from his practice had an opening in Mollie’s age group, and that she could start as soon as he visited and filled out the paperwork.
Hell, she even filled it out and brought it to him, then stood over him while he signed his name and date in the appropriate places. She couldn’t have made it clearer that she was eager to ditch Mollie and him.
It wasn’t that he objected to day care. In fact, he’d been reluctant to leave Mollie alone with a stranger in the house all day anyway. At day care, she’d be with experienced professionals and she’d have other kids to play with.
But still…he hadn’t said any of that to Kristin before she shoved those papers down his throat.
She started working at the animal sanctuary on Wednesday, the same day he dropped Mollie off at day care for the first time. Mollie seemed happy enough, and he went to work feeling less guilty than he’d expected.
The feeling lasted until he picked her up in the evening, and found her in one of the helper’s arms, sobbing her little heart out.
‘‘Daddy.’’ She scrambled for him the moment he entered the room and he bent to lift her into his arms, feeling his own heart crack as he surveyed her tear-stained cheeks and the thumb in her mouth, something she rarely did anymore unless she was really tired or stressed.
‘‘Hi, chickadee.’’ He tried to inject a positive note into his voice. ‘‘Did you have a good time today?’’
She shook her head slowly from side to side.
‘‘Aw, Mollie, we had a lot of fun this morning!’’ The aide, a relentlessly cheerful older woman, beamed as she came over to address them. ‘‘You’ll have to tell Daddy about finger painting and our Richie Raccoon story time. And don’t forget tomorrow is Share It Day. Bring something blue from home to tell your friends about during Share It.’’
Blue?
The woman smiled at him. ‘‘We’re working on the color blue this week, so everyone is bringing in a blue Share It.’’
He nodded. ‘‘What happened…?’’ He indicated his daughter, who had wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, and just that fast, was sound asleep.
The woman’s smile wilted a little. ‘‘She didn’t nap today. She kept saying she needed her hair. Is there a special doll or blanket she sleeps with?’’
Derek shook his head, puzzled. ‘‘No, not really.’’
‘‘Well, don’t worry too much,’’ the aide advised. ‘‘The first few days are always an adjustment for the little ones. I’m sure she’ll be fine in no time.’’
Mollie didn’t wake up even when he put her in her car seat, and he had to work to get her awake enough to eat dinner. She livened up around bath time and began to chatter about her day, and when bedtime rolled around, she was still wide-awake and totally wired.
When Kristin called, he was at his wit’s end.
‘‘Hi,’’ she said, and he could hear a cool note in her voice. ‘‘I just called to see how Mollie’s first day went. I promised to stop in at lunch a few days a week but I figured I’d better wait a day or two until she gets into a routine and doesn’t think I’ve come to pick her up.’’
He sighed. ‘‘It didn’t go so well.’’
‘‘Oh, no. What happened?’’ As Mollie squealed happily in the background, Kristin said, ‘‘What is she doing still up? She needs to be in bed by eight or she’ll be awful tomorrow.’’
‘‘I know,’’ he said defensively, ‘‘but she wouldn’t nap for them today and she fell asleep on the way home and now she’s got her second wind.’’
Kristin was silent and he could feel the censure right through the receiver. But when she spoke, she didn’t sound like she was condemning him. ‘‘Did they say why she wouldn’t sleep?’’
‘‘Something about needing her hair,’’ he reported. ‘‘I don’t get it. She doesn’t sleep with a blanket or a doll—’’
‘‘It’s my hair,’’ Kristin said flatly. ‘‘Shoot. I’m sorry. I never thought to tell you. I used to sit with her in my lap after lunch. I’d read a story and then put her down for her nap. She takes a handful of my hair and brushes it back and forth over her cheek and it puts her right to sleep.’’
Oh, man. Now that she’d said it, he knew exactly what she meant. He’d seen Mollie doing it on more than one occasion but since he’d never had trouble getting her to sleep for him, he’d never connected the dots. ‘‘Well, hell,’’ he said in disgust. ‘‘What am I going to tell the day care? I don’t guess you’d be able to—’’
‘‘I