LITMIR.BIZ

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towns reinvented and rebuilt, but history mattered. The Bumblebee had been one of the first inns to open in Crimson, and she wouldn’t let the past be ignored.

      Gnawing away on the graham cracker square, Rosie stopped sniffling and her breathing eventually returned to normal. She rested her head on Paige’s shoulder with a sigh.

      The girl was precious, and Paige wondered again what caused her shyness and mood swings.

      “You’re a miracle worker,” Shep murmured from directly behind her.

      She turned to find him staring, gratitude and relief mixing in his eyes.

      “Babies like me,” she said with a shrug. “Squirrels, too.”

      Rosie jammed the last of the graham cracker into her mouth then reached for her father. Shep lifted her out of Paige’s arms with a gentle smile.

      “Are you ready to head home, Rosie-girl?”

      “No,” the girl said with a whimper.

      “Stay for a bit,” Paige offered before Shep could argue with his daughter. She might not like Shep, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him when it was clear he was trying so hard to make things right for Rosie. “Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

      He ran a hand through his hair. “A beer would be great.”

      “There’s a comfy rocking chair in the family room,” Paige told him. “Rosie might like it.”

      “What do you think, sweetheart?” he asked the toddler. “Are you ready to rock the night away?”

      She giggled and nodded.

      “Thank you,” Shep mouthed to Paige over Rosie’s head then turned and disappeared down the hall.

      Paige pulled a beer from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one gulp.

      Shep Bennett and his daughter as her late-night visitors. Who would believe it? She reminded herself that Shep was the enemy no matter how adorable and helpless he seemed as a father. Helpless like a lion in a flock of sheep. He wanted to bulldoze The Bumblebee, the place where all of Paige’s happiest childhood memories were housed. All he cared about was profit and easy access to the ski resort.

      Shep didn’t care about Paige, even if the way he looked at her made her feel special. He probably turned that charming gaze on every woman he met. If life had taught Paige one glaring lesson, it was that the only time she’d been special was when she was sick. She couldn’t forget that because a desperate daddy made her feel important.

      She carried the drinks into the family room, handed Shep the beer then took a seat on the sofa, pulling her unruly curls into a ponytail. Rosie had already fallen asleep, long eyelashes brushing her cheeks and her mouth open slightly.

      “Mind if I give her a few more minutes?” Shep asked quietly. “She’s normally a great sleeper but after tonight, I’m gun-shy. If she wakes up when I transfer her to the car—”

      “It’s fine.” Paige smiled, her body tingling at the intimacy of the moment. The two of them sharing a quiet interlude in her cozy house. She thumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. The house Shep had closed on today. He owned it now and could kick her out at any moment.

      “Did the crying give you a headache?” One side of his mouth quirked. “Rosie has that effect on people.”

      “She’s a sweetheart,” Paige countered. “I can’t figure out why she has such a problem with the babysitters you hire.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are hiring experienced babysitters, right? Not ex-strippers looking for an easier way to make some money?”

      Shep took a pull from the beer bottle. “You think watching Rosie is easier than taking off your clothes while swinging your hips? That seems highly unlikely.”

      “You forgot the pole.” Paige tipped her wineglass toward him. “I did a pole-dancing class once. It’s harder than it looks.”

      Shep choked on the beer. “You pole dance?” He set down the beer to wipe his sleeve over his mouth.

      “It was a bachelorette party for one of my college friends. I never really got the hang of it.”

      “What a surprise.”

      “Hey.” Paige frowned. “I let you in tonight and calmed your crying baby. Be nice.”

      “You’re offended that I can’t picture you strutting your stuff on a stripper pole?”

      He held up one finger. “Give me a second,” he whispered then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was humor and something else. Something that looked strangely like attraction. “Got the mental picture. I’ll tell you, darlin’, I have a great imagination.”

      Heat rose to Paige’s cheeks like she was having a premature hot flash. Shep was fantasizing about her. Even if she’d put him up to it, the truth was he looked quite satisfied with whatever image he held in his brain.

      “Why do you think Rosie hates your nanny candidates?” she asked, unable to resist bursting both of their bubbles. She was about as much the male fantasy type as she was a pole dancer.

      His lips pressed together and his whole body tensed. Even Rosie sensed the change, because the toddler squirmed then clutched his shirtfront in one small hand.

      “She had a bad experience with a sitter when she was a baby.”

      “She’s still a baby,” Paige said softly.

      Pain flashed in Shep’s dark eyes. He spread one big hand over Rosie’s back, like he was her human shield.

      “Rosie’s mom and I broke up before Monica realized she was pregnant. It wasn’t a serious relationship to begin with—”

      “You were having sex,” Paige interrupted. “That’s actually serious.”

      “Right,” Shep agreed almost reluctantly. “I’d sort of forgotten that. Sorry. We’d ended things, and she didn’t bother to mention I’d become a father until Rosie was six months old.”

      Paige sucked in a breath. “Oh, Shep.”

      “Not that I would have been keen on the idea from the outset,” he admitted, still rocking back and forth in the old chair. “I never thought fatherhood was in the cards for me. I never wanted children. My family was messed up enough. No sense spreading the wealth with some ankle biters of my own.”

      Paige made a mental note to ask Sienna about Cole and Shep’s childhood. She was afraid if she brought it up now, he’d change subjects and she wouldn’t get to hear about Rosie.

      “You’re a good dad,” she told him. “I don’t even like you and I can see that you’re devoted to Rosie.”

      He laughed. “As nice a compliment as I’ve ever received.”

      “Why did your ex-girlfriend wait so long to tell you?”

      “I don’t think she planned to share Rosie, but as it turned out motherhood was a hell of a lot harder than the stars of reality shows make it look on TV.”

      “I can imagine.”

      “Monica is an actress and babies are all the rage in Hollywood these days. Elaborate-themed showers, adorable clothes and expensive strollers for taking kids shopping. A baby is a cuter accessory than a yappy dog.”

      Anger and disgust winged through Paige, making the hair on her arms stand on end. “Tell me that’s not how Rosie’s mother felt about her.”

      “I’m not sure I understand what Monica felt,” Shep admitted with a sigh. “But when Rosie was four months old, Monica got a part in a sitcom that had been picked up by one of the major networks.”

      “That’s a big break.”

      “Yeah. She hired an

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