Building The Perfect Daddy. Brenda Harlen
took advantage of the employee discount at Garrett Furniture,” she told him.
He lifted a brow. “Not the family discount?”
“I didn’t think it would take you too long to figure it out after Kylie mentioned Justin and Avery’s wedding.”
“Did you want it to remain a secret?” he asked.
She sipped her coffee. “No. But I don’t want the Garrett name used on the show.”
“Why not?”
Because she was embarrassed enough about her financial situation, and the last thing she wanted was to cause embarrassment to her family. She knew it wasn’t easy for her parents to overlook all of the work that needed to be done in her home. More than once, her father had offered to call a handyman friend to fix the leaky plumbing in the kitchen, to replace some questionable boards in the front porch, to secure the wobbly ceiling fan in the master bedroom. Every time, Lauryn had refused because her husband had promised to take care of the problems.
It was harder to turn away her cousins when they showed up at the door, as Andrew and Nathan had done a few times. It was thanks to them that she had a secure handrail leading to the laundry room in the basement and shelves in the nursery. And the new locks on the doors were courtesy of Daniel, who had installed them within hours of learning that Rob had walked out on his family. Not that she intended to admit any of that to the man seated across the table from her now.
“Can’t you just respect my wishes on this?” she finally said.
He considered for a minute, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Well, that was easy,” she said both grateful and a little dubious.
“Did you expect me to be difficult?”
“You weren’t nearly as agreeable when I asked you to get off my property this morning,” she reminded him.
“I know you’re not thrilled about being part of the show, but everything will go much more smoothly if you accept that we’re on the same team,” he told her.
“Are we?”
“Why do you doubt it?”
She shrugged. “A lot of so-called reality TV shows are all about the conflict and drama.”
“Maybe you should watch a few episodes of Ryder to the Rescue before you sign the contract,” he advised.
“Maybe I will,” she agreed.
“In the meantime—” he nodded toward the stove “—your water is boiling.”
She hurried to open the window above the sink, to let the steamy air escape, because the range fan didn’t work. Then she opened the box of macaroni and dumped the noodles into the pot.
Ryder found plates and cutlery and set the table. She started to tell him that she would do it, because she was accustomed to doing everything on her own, then she decided that it was nice—at least this once—to have some help. Besides, while she finished the preparations for dinner, she was able to watch him move around her kitchen—and she really liked watching him move.
After making the pasta sauce, she called Kylie for dinner, then dished up her food while the little girl was washing up. She cut up some meat for Zachary and added a spoonful of macaroni, then slid his plate into the freezer while she settled him into his high chair and buckled the belt around his middle. Kylie had already climbed into her booster seat and was shoveling spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese into her mouth.
“Ketchup, please.”
Lauryn grabbed the bottle of ketchup from the fridge, shook it up and squirted a dollop onto her daughter’s plate—close to but not touching the meat—then set the bottle on the table.
“Umm umm,” Zachary was making his hungry noises and reaching toward his sister’s plate.
“Yours is just cooling off,” Lauryn promised, offering a sippy cup of milk to tide him over.
He immediately put the spout in his mouth, took a drink, then tossed the cup aside. “Umm umm,” he demanded.
Holding back a sigh, she bent to retrieve it, but Ryder had already scooped it off the floor and set it on the table. It was then she noticed that his fork was still beside his plate, his food untouched.
“Please don’t wait for me,” Lauryn told him. “Your dinner will get cold if you do.”
“No colder than yours,” he pointed out.
She opened the door of the freezer to check on Zachary’s meal. “I’m used to it. Sometimes the kids are finished before I get a chance to start.”
Satisfied with the temperature of the baby’s food, she set the plate in front of him. Zachary, like his sister, did not stand on ceremony but immediately shoved a hand into the macaroni.
Lauryn uncurled his fingers and wrapped them around the handle of the spoon she’d given to him. He held on to the utensil, then used the other hand to pick up a piece of meat. Shaking her head, she sat down at her plate and wiped her fingers on a napkin.
Only when she was seated did Ryder pick up his own fork. Not even her husband had ever waited for her to sit down before digging into his own meal, but she pushed that memory aside.
She’d taken the first bite of her dinner when the sky suddenly grew dark and she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. But it was distant—far, far away, she assured herself, stabbing her fork into a piece of meat just as the skies opened up and rain poured down.
She pushed the meat around until Ryder reached across the table and put his hand over hers. She jolted at the unexpected contact, her fork slipping from her fingers and clattering against the edge of her plate, but he didn’t pull his hand away.
“The tarps will hold,” he told her.
She nodded, grateful for his reassurance and a little unnerved that this man, whom she’d met only hours earlier, had so easily followed the direction of her thoughts. Even more unnerving was the way her skin had warmed and her pulse had leaped in response to his touch.
She slowly drew her hand away. “Did you want more meat loaf?”
“I wouldn’t mind another slice.”
She pushed away from the table and reached for his plate.
“I can get it,” he told her.
“More milk, please,” Kylie said, lifting up her empty cup.
“I can get that, too,” Ryder said, when she started to rise again.
Settling back in her seat, Lauryn forced herself to take another bite of her dinner. She blamed the rain for her loss of appetite, because she was worried about potential new leaks.
But she was more worried about the sudden and unexpected tingles she’d felt all the way to her toes when Ryder touched her.
Meat loaf and macaroni and cheese seemed to Ryder like a traditional family meal, but he couldn’t be certain. He’d grown up in a family that was anything but traditional, with two parents who spent more time at their respective jobs than at home and happily abdicated responsibility for the upbringing of their children to the nanny.
He and Avery had been lucky there, because Hennie had been wonderful. Right up until Ryder was twelve and Avery fifteen, when George and Cristina—long divorced but still making such decisions together—had concluded that their children didn’t need a caregiver anymore.
Spending time with Lauryn and her children was almost like entering a whole new world—and not one in which he felt entirely comfortable. He was accustomed to eating alone, and usually in front of the television. Except