Wyatt brought the conversation back around to money. “Listen, Brandon, if we don’t press for a record-breaking deal now, we’ll miss our window.” And someone else would command a price higher than Wyatt. “I need this deal. Now.” Preferably before Jess Watanabe showed up for Laurel’s wedding on Saturday.
“Have you been spending money I don’t know about?” Brandon demanded.
“No.” Wyatt wasn’t ready to tell Brandon that the public relations fire they’d worked so hard to put out could potentially spark to life again. He was circling the idea of fatherhood at his own pace, thank you very much. Just like he seemed to be circling something more than being a convenient wedding date for Ashley. “Just counter.”
“I’ll counter if you agree this is the last time.”
“Last time.” Wyatt disconnected the call and stared out his window, knowing Brandon considered him greedy. But Wyatt wanted that contract signed before bad press gave the producer something to negotiate with. He couldn’t predict how bankable he’d be if word of Laurel’s pregnancy got out again.
Like babies should ever be bad press.
His father would get a good chuckle if he ever heard Wyatt say that out loud. But his father was old-school. He’d never told Wyatt he loved him. Never said he was proud of his accomplishments. Never really thanked him for buying him a house and paying for its upkeep.
And yet Wyatt knew he’d do anything to hear those words from his father, even if it meant putting off making a decision about Laurel’s children. Would he ever have a chance to say he loved those girls? Would they want his love if they knew he was hesitant to take an active role in their lives?
Someone knocked on the door.
It was Mitch. The inn’s manager glanced around, taking in the bed Wyatt slept on pushed to one side and Jeremy’s mattress and box spring leaning against a wall.
Wyatt waited for a blowup. But it didn’t come.
Mitch sighed. “All right, Halford. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you carry whatever you wanted moved in here if you help me put together the baby stroller.”
“You need help with that?” Wyatt raised his brows. “It can’t be that hard.”
“Oh, it can. The instructions are half-missing. And the pages I do have? They’re in Swedish.”
* * *
“WHAT HAVE YOU done to Mom? She’s been hiding in her room all morning.”
Ashley finished logging call notes in her phone before glancing up at Laurel. “Are you asking because you want to know how it’s done?”
They sat on the front porch of the Lodgepole Inn, waiting to greet Monroes as they arrived. Laurel wore a lime-green maternity dress and flip-flops and still complained about the heat. Across the highway, the tall pines swayed in the gentle breeze. It was a beautiful morning and not as hot as Laurel seemed to think. Ashley was comfortable in her jeans and lightweight sweater. Gabby sat on the far end of the porch, bent over her laptop, typing like crazy.
“You know what I mean.” Laurel contorted in her chair. “Gah. Practice contraction.” She held her breath. Almost immediately, her face turned red.
Gabby stopped typing. “Aren’t you supposed to breathe, even if it’s only practice?”
“Thanks. I. Forgot.” Laurel groaned and began taking shallow breaths. “Don’t think I’m...letting you...off the hook...about Mom.”
“All I did was threaten to fire her. It can’t all be laid at my door. She’s been drinking since we got here.” Ashley caught Gabby’s eye. “Is Laurel supposed to be this uncomfortable when she practices contractions?”
“Yes.” Laurel collapsed into the chair and drew a deep breath. “It’s not like practicing a golf swing. It’s like the body is preparing for Armageddon. Braxton Hicks contractions are the boot camp of pregnancy.”
“I’m never having babies.” Gabby bent over her laptop.
A car slowed as it made the turn from Boise and headed toward town. It looked like two women were in the front seat.
“Is this Olivia and Kendall?” Ashley got up and waved, welcoming two of her Monroe cousins.
The car didn’t stop. But the two women inside did gawk at Ashley as they passed.
Laurel dissolved into laughter. “Those women are going to argue for the next hour about whether or not Ashley Monroe was waving at them. Don’t you recognize your own cousins?”
“There was glare on the windshield.” Ashley sat back down. She had more calls to make, more emails to send. And yet she didn’t want to work. She could hear the rumble of Mitch’s and Wyatt’s voices inside as they assembled the baby stroller. Inappropriate as it was, her attention kept drifting that way.
“You need to make up with Mom.” Laurel wasn’t asking. She’d been feisty all morning. “I’m not kidding.”
“Why?” Mom hadn’t tried to tell Ashley what to do all day. She hadn’t pointed out Ashley’s weaknesses or warned of the financial pitfalls of trying to start her own business. “You, of all people, know how she can get.” For years, Laurel had been Mom’s favorite target.
“Because she’s miserable. And so am I.” Laurel covered her face with her hands. “This must be a hormone swing. I feel so on edge. Keep me away from Mitch. He’s been so sensitive lately.”
Mitch had been walking on a tightrope, trying to keep Laurel happy and comfortable. Earlier, he’d asked Laurel, “Why are we putting the stroller together today? I still need to assemble the cribs.”
She’d snapped back a tried-and-true parental phrase: “Because I said so.” Ashley had taken pity on him and ushered Laurel outside.
And now Wyatt was helping Mitch with all the baby gear. And Ashley had become half-hearted in her hope that he’d sign away all claim to Laurel’s girls. It had been adorable to watch him with Adam Clark at the Bucking Bull. Despite his doubts, Wyatt would make a good dad. If only he wouldn’t complicate this situation for them all, especially Laurel.
A big, boxy motor home pulled into a parking space in front of them. The sun bounced off the windshield, practically blinding her.
“Who’s that?” Laurel squinted and shaded her eyes.
“It’s Holden,” Gabby said from the corner, where the glare might not have been so bad. Not being a Holden fan, she hunkered down over her computer.
“That can’t be Holden.” Laurel tried to lean forward for a better look, but she was deep in her seat and not going anywhere without a helping hand.
Cousin Holden stepped out of the side door, stretching his tall body, streaks of gray catching the sunlight in his short brown hair. “Take note, Dev. This is how your Hollywood cousins treat East Coast Monroes. We wave, and they completely snub us.”
“Who could see you with all that glare on your windshield?” Laurel poked Ashley’s shoulder. “You could have been two strange women, for all we could see.”
“Hardy-har,” Ashley said, picking up on the reminder of her misidentification of the earlier passing car.
Holden’s son, Devin, dropped to the ground from the side door. He’d just graduated high school and looked as handsome as Holden had when he was seventeen. Thankfully, he was more interested in studying science than studying girls.
Gabby shot up in her seat as if she’d been electrocuted. “Who is that?” she whispered.
Laurel and Ashley exchanged looks and mischievous smiles. Ashley didn’t need twin speak to know what her hormonal sister was thinking.
Gabby, Gabby, Gabby.
Ashley rubbed her hands together. Soon, Gabby would officially be family. As such, she needed to get used to Monroe teasing.
“Devin, come up here so I can give you a hug.” With effort, Laurel pushed herself out of the chair, stomach first. “And so I can warn you away from my stepdaughter.”
Gabby gasped.
“Don’t you mean introduce Dev to Gabby, his new cousin by marriage?” Ashley got up and t
ugged Gabby to her feet. “He’s too old for you,” she whispered. “Besides, what would Wyatt think if you start mooning over someone else?”
“Uh...” Gabby’s already flushing cheeks turned a deep red.
Laurel finished mugging Devin. “I want you to meet Mitch’s daughter, Gabby. Now, you’re the first boy her age to stay more than a day in Second Chance all year, so make sure you treat her like a nonkissing cousin.”
Devin’s cheeks turned ruddy. “Whatever you say.” He was somewhat used to the teasing of his second cousins.
“You’ve trained him well, Holden.” Ashley took a turn giving Devin a hug.
Gabby and Devin stared at each other and made awkward gestures of greeting.
Holden stared at the diner parking lot as he walked up the stairs. “Is that Bernadette’s car?”
“You mean Dr. Carlisle?” Laurel frowned. And then slugged his shoulder. “You did not.”
“Am I missing something here?” Anytime Holden was being punished, Ashley wanted to be involved. He was the oldest Monroe of their generation and something of a stick-in-the-mud.
“You dated my doctor?” Laurel slugged his shoulder again. “When?”
“Is no woman safe from you?” Ashley looked her cousin up and down. For such a stuffed shirt, Holden was always the popular one.
“Hey, keep it down. My personal life is none of your business.” Holden stepped quickly out of Laurel’s reach.
“You keep telling yourself that, bub.” Laurel jabbed her finger toward Holden. “But if you break her heart and I hear about it, you’re toast.”
Holden scoffed.
“You think I can’t make you squirm?” Laurel rolled her shoulders back as if she was going to raise her fists and duke it out. “I can tell Devin stories about you. Don’t think I won’t. My doctor is off-limits. Do you hear me?”
“I thought you were the nice twin,” Holden said, edging toward the inn’s door until he was close enough to dart in.
“Are you running away from me?” Laurel followed him, pausing in the doorway to turn to Devin. “You let me know if you need anything during your stay, Dev. Or if Gabby tries to hit on you. She just got her braces off, so you know she’s on the lookout for a first kiss.” Laurel froze, face reddening. “Somebody stop me from talking.”
“Stop talking, Laurel,” Ashley and Dev said in unison.
“I was teasing, but... I need a time-out.” Laurel went inside.
After a moment of awkward silence, Dev shrugged and followed her in.
Gabby hung her head. “This is worse than the time I left my training bra in the changing room of the department store, and she made me go back and ask for it at the lost and found. Is Laurel going to say stuff like that the entire time Devin’s here?”
“Yup.” Ashley slung her arm over Gabby’s shoulders. “Isn’t family grand?”
CHAPTER TEN
“THE BRAKES STICK.” Wyatt sat back on his heels.
He and Mitch had moved his inversion machine up to his room. And since then, they’d spent over an hour trying to put together the stroller.
“I told you the diagram was wrong.” Mitch turned the instructions around. And around. And around. He let the paper drift to the floor. “It’s time to call in the expert.”
“The customer support line?” Wyatt shook his head. “I’m out. I don’t do well with automated phone trees. Press one if I’ve annoyed you.”
“I meant Roy.”
“The old man?” The guy who’d thought Wyatt’s biceps were photoshopped? “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Mitch checked the time on his phone. “He should be on his morning coffee break at the Bent Nickel about now. Let’s go see if he has time to help. At the very least, we’ll grab a cup of coffee before making a second attempt.”
They got to their feet and nearly made it to the door before they were stopped by a cool voice.
“Where are you two going?” It was Laurel. She’d just given her cousin and his teenage son a room key and was glancing from the two men to the scattering of parts across the floor in the lobby. “It looks like Santa couldn’t put Christmas together again.”
The apartment door was open behind her. Gifts from the baby shower were stacked on the floor and the table, making the small living space seem more like a storage closet.
Wyatt’s neck twinged. Laurel’s living situation was untenable. A responsible father would make sure his children had a safe home with room to move.
Unaware of Wyatt’s train of thought, Mitch quickly reassured Laurel. “Never fear, honey. We’ll be right back to fix this mess.” He hurried over to give her a loving embrace. “We’re going to find Roy. He’ll have this thing together in no time.”
They went out the door and into the sunshine, passing Ashley sitting in a chair on a phone call and Gabby sitting on the porch steps writing a paper on her laptop.
Mitch matched Wyatt’s long stride with one of his own. “Would now be a good time to ask you to sign those paternity papers?”
“No.” Wyatt tossed whatever camaraderie they’d had under the passing semitruck.
“If you’d sign, I’d get Roy to help me put together the cribs and baby swings,” Mitch added, as if being released from baby paraphernalia construction was a bargaining chip.
“No deal. But tell me... Why are we putting this stuff together now?” Wyatt’s frown felt like it was etching itself into his forehead. Perhaps it had been since he’d arrived. “Unless your bedroom is humongous, there’s no way you’re going to fit all that furniture into your apartment.”
“Because Laurel wants it done now. Because she doesn’t think we’ll have the time or energy to do it after the babies are born.” Mitch blocked Wyatt’s entrance into the Bent Nickel. “Laurel is compartmentalizing. Do you know what that means?”
Wyatt surrendered with a shrug. “I got nothing.”
“The road ahead is unclear, partly because of you.” Mitch’s tone swung from demoralized to accusatory. “She can’t control any outcome. Not your involvement. Not when the babies will be born. So, she creates a one-step-at-a-time plan forward. She wants to get through the wedding and give birth before we try to figure out where we’re going to live.”
Wyatt shouldn’t find fault with that when he was slow to make a decision about fatherhood, but he did.
“It’s how she deals with stress. She looks at first things first.” Mitch didn’t look happy about it either. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to leapfrog ahead. Roy is fixing up all these cabins around town for the Monroes, but Laurel refuses to look at them.”
“Maybe Ashley can persuade her to consider one.” After Wyatt screened her choices.
“I can’t ask Ashley to put more on her plate.” Mitch held the diner door open for Wyatt to pass through.
Immediately, someone called out, “Wyatt Halford!”
Immediately after that, people began whipping out cell phones and taking pictures. Some folks asked him to autograph their napkins.
“Sorry, man.” Mitch left him to his fans and went to talk to Roy.
Roy, who knew how large and what state of repair available cabins were in.
* * *
OF COURSE, AFTER Laurel embarrassed Gabby, she’d sent her upstairs to put fresh towels in rooms.
Gah, because she had to complete the chore just down the hall from Devin, who was supercute. And if he came out of his room and saw her carrying two laundry baskets, she’d die. Which wouldn’t be the worst of it, because Ashley and Laurel were probably going to tease her about Devin all through his stay.
Welcome to the family.
It was the first time she’d thought being a Monroe sucked.
Gabby knocked on Ashley and Grandma Gen’s door hard enough to sting her knuckles. “It’s Gabby. Can I come in?”
Grandma Gen ma
de a noise. It had to be her. Ashley was downstairs making lunch. And because Gabby heard a doorknob rattle down the hall near where Devin’s room was, she took that Grandma Gen noise for permission and darted inside.
Grandma Gen sat in a small ladder-back chair beneath the room’s only window. She’d squeezed it between the bed and the wall. There was no room to walk around it.
“I’d like to be alone,” she told Gabby without facing her.
“I’d like to be alone, too,” Gabby griped, taking a page from Grandma Gen’s sour book. She changed out the towels, and as she was stacking one laundry basket on top of the other, she realized that Grandma Gen hadn’t moved, not even a chair-creaking shift in her seat. Her bright red hair wasn’t combed smooth. She was still in her bathrobe. She wore no makeup. And most telling of all, she wasn’t snapping out the witty sarcastic remarks. “Are you okay?”
“I just—”
“Want to be alone.” Gabby stomped toward the door, hugging the bulky baskets to her chest. “I get it. I want to put some distance between me and the Monroes, too.”
Grandma Gen turned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” But Gabby didn’t barge off. “Laurel and Ashley were teasing me about Devin.” She raised her voice to the ceiling and groaned. “And now I sound like a little kid.”
“You’re an only child.” Grandma Gen looked her up and down. “You haven’t been subjected to family teasing before.”
“No. And Laurel doesn’t usually tease me either.” Gabby moved to sit on the corner of the bed, resting the baskets in her lap.
“The dynamic changes when families get together.” Grandma Gen gingerly touched her frizzy red hair, as if only now realizing how it must look. “There’s more energy, which leads to more frivolity, which means you have to toughen up.”
“Right. Of course.” Gabby dropped the baskets on the carpet. “And all of a sudden I’m being dropped into a big family.”
The Littlest Cowgirls--A Clean Romance Page 13