Stacy Connelly – His Secret Son (страница 8)

Ellie made a sympathetic sound as she explained, “Robbie’s a bit on the shy side, and Lindsay worries people won’t see him for the amazing boy he is.”

“I’m not worried,” Lindsay argued.

“Of course you are, dear. You’re a mother. It’s your job to worry. But I have the feeling this trip is going to do him a world of good. You’ll see.” Before Lindsay’s puzzled frown had time to set in, Ellie waved a hand at the spread still in front of them. “So, are either of you up for seconds?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Brookes. But that’s gotta be the best meal I’ve had in ages.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. And please call me Ellie.”

He rose as Lindsay’s grandmother did and reached for his own plate. “Let me give you a hand with the rest of these.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart!”

If he thought he’d gain any points with his offer, he’d have been bound for disappointment as Lindsay rolled her eyes at Ellie’s effusive comment.

Waving aside his attempt to help her clean up, Ellie said, “I can handle things in here if you two would like to get started.”

“The two of us...” Lindsay echoed.

“You’re the one always going on about the work that needs to be done around here. Who better to show Ryder around?”

“Right.” Lindsay sighed. “Because this was all my big idea.”

With Ellie once again waving them out of the kitchen, Lindsay led the way back into the living room. Her messy ponytail bobbed in time with her steps, and Ryder couldn’t keep his gaze drifting from her slender shoulders, to her narrow waist and curving hips. She turned quickly, but not so quickly, he hoped, that she caught where his eye had wandered.

“Look, just because my grandmother invited you over, that doesn’t mean we’re hiring you.”

“Fair enough. After all, you still have those references to verify.”

“That’s right.” Her shoulders straightened as she met his gaze. “And I want to consider other bids, as well. I’ve already done some checking around. I saw an advertisement for Parker Remodeling—”

“Travis Parker.” Ryder scowled at the man’s name. “You don’t want to hire him.”

“Why not? You’re not afraid of a little competition, are you?”

“Parker isn’t competition. What he is is a first-class womanizer with a reputation for not taking no for an answer.”

Lindsay blinked in surprise, taken aback by his warning tone. “Well, I can take care of myself. I have been for a long time now.”

Ryder knew that was probably truer than he could imagine. But that didn’t mean he liked the idea of her having to fend off a guy like Travis Parker. Not that he was entirely sure why the thought of the notorious player hitting on Lindsay bothered him as much as it did.

He was looking out for her. Protecting Lindsay— Hell, protecting her in a way he hadn’t protected her from himself ten years ago. He owed her that much, though judging by the way she lifted her chin a stubborn notch, she wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

“Still, I’m sure there’s another handyman in town.”

Handyman. Right. “Look, Lindsay, about that...I’m not exactly a handyman. I was hired by a contracting company to work on remodeling projects—like what you probably have in mind for updating this place.”

Her brow furrowed at the warning in his voice. “Okay.”

“The thing is—the company I work for—it’s Pirelli Construction. Drew Pirelli’s company. I wanted you to know in case you thought it made things, you know, too complicated.”

* * *

“Too complicated.”

Lindsay blinked as Ryder’s words sank in, and that hysterical laughter rose in her throat again. Complicated? What could possibly be complicated about hiring the father of her child, who worked for the cousin of the man everyone thought was the father of her child?

Not to mention fixing up the house so her grandmother would be even more convinced she should stay in the old Victorian when the entire goal had been to get the place ready to sell?

Oh, no. No complications there at all.

“It’s a solid company, Lindsay, and I do good work,” Ryder vowed. “You won’t be sorry.”

But she already was, wasn’t she? Seeing Robbie and Ryder together for the first time had hit her harder than she’d imagined. From the moment her son was born, it had just been the two of them. Her parents and grandparents had supported her, and Lindsay didn’t know what she would have done without them. But she had been the only parent Robbie had known. She’d never faced the thought of sharing him. Of letting him go, even the smallest amount, because he’d always been hers alone.

The fear and uncertainty churning inside her were almost enough to make Lindsay want to grab Robbie and race back to Phoenix. And then Ryder stepped closer, and something...more was added to the mix of emotions. Something that held her in place despite that urge to run.

His gaze searched her face, and there was no sign of the teasing grin he’d flashed her way earlier. If anything, his expression was more serious than she’d ever seen, guilt and regret pulling at his handsome features. “I know with everything that happened between us, I don’t really have the right to ask. But all I’m looking for is a chance to prove I’m not the same guy I was in high school.”

Chapter Four

A few days later, Ryder’s words were still playing through Lindsay’s mind. That was what she wanted, too, wasn’t it? For Ryder to prove himself. Not to her, because this couldn’t be about her and it certainly couldn’t be about that something she’d felt when he stood so close to her in grandmother’s living room. No, this had to be about Ryder proving he could be someone Robbie could trust, someone he could count on.

Even if their relationship would be a long-distance one, even if—heaven help her—that relationship would be limited to a few weeks over summer vacation, spring break, and joint custody for every other holiday, Lindsay couldn’t deny that Robbie needed a father in his life.

And Ryder deserved a chance to show her that he could be that father.

Which was why she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. “Stop it!” she hissed at her own reflection. “This isn’t a date.”

Despite the warning, Lindsay’s pulse jumped at every sound coming from downstairs, though so far she heard nothing more than her gran making breakfast. She’d go down to help but only after getting dressed and making sure every strand of hair was perfectly in place. Ryder Kincaid was not catching her with her beagle slippers on again.

As promised, he’d left her with a list of references as well as his initial quote once Lindsay showed him the work that needed to be done. She cringed when she thought of all the additional problems Ryder had found. She’d called around checking those references, relieved to have found names on the list she didn’t recognize. Word would get out soon enough that she had hired Pirelli Construction, but Lindsay wasn’t looking forward to explaining.

Another point for life in Phoenix, where she didn’t have to explain. Where people accepted that she was a single mom and rarely bothered to ask questions that couldn’t be waved away with nothing more than a simple “it was a long time ago” response.

Even Robbie had stopped asking questions about who his father was...

Underneath Lindsay’s relief, though, was a niggling concern. Shouldn’t her son be more curious? Years ago, she had explained that his father was an old friend from Clearville who wasn’t a part of their lives. But Robbie had always been an inquisitive kid, the type to keep asking “why?” long after Lindsay had run out of answers.

At an age when Lindsay had braced herself for more questions, Robbie remained silent. Of course, he had plenty of classmates with divorced parents or who lived in single-parent homes. Maybe Robbie had simply accepted that it was just the two of them.

But as Lindsay skipped down the stairs, a low masculine murmur reminded her that it wasn’t just the two of them. At least not right now. How had she missed Ryder’s arrival? Easily enough, she figured, deciding her grandmother had probably told him to let himself in. No need to knock and who bothered to lock their doors in little ol’ Clearville?

Chalk it up to living in Phoenix too long, but she was adding installing a dead bolt to Ryder’s list of things to do.

“And see here?” Ellie was asking. “My Robert installed these lovely wall sconces. Sometimes you have to jiggle them a bit before they work...”

Oh, shoot. She’d wanted the chance to warn Ryder that the “shoddy craftsmanship” another contractor had kept pointing out to her over and over had been done by her grandfather. It would break her grandmother’s heart to hear the work her grandfather had taken such pride in described that way.

Ryder and Ellie were standing beneath the somewhat gaudy gilded and glass lamps—her gran in a pair of sea-foam-green capris and a beige T-shirt with floral appliqués across the front, Ryder towering over her in jeans and a navy T-shirt. Lindsay swallowed hard, her plan to interrupt their conversation stalling as the words—and her very breath—lodged in her throat at the sight of him.

He’d braced his hands above the tool belt hanging low on his lean hips, the muscles in his arms flexed beneath tanned skin. The masculine stance emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, flat stomach and long legs. His posture spoke of confidence—maybe even a bit of cockiness—and Lindsay waited, dreading the moment when he would say—