The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs)

by Cindi Madsen

  The compliment added to the sense of accomplishment she’d felt earlier and left her with a light, happy feeling. “Thank you so much.”

  After this job finished up, she’d take a few days to pay bills, spend some extra time with Zoey and Cam, and gain that last bit of control.

  “Such a good job, actually, that…” Pete reached into his messenger bag, riffling through the papers. “You know that property I showed you? The ski resort in Park City, Utah?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Well, I’d like you to help me with the building schematics and consult on the project from start to finish. Precision Commercial Design would like to offer you a permanent position in our Salt Lake City office, actually. My business partner and I have been looking for another person to add to our team, and I know you’d be a great asset to our company.”

  He muttered, “There it is,” and then produced a document. “The contract is for one year, and the salary and benefits are all outlined in here.”

  Emma’s hand trembled as she reached for the document. Her eyes scanned down the page, but there were so many words and figures, and the unexpected job offer totally threw her for a loop, making it that much harder to concentrate.

  “I… Wow. That’s very flattering.”

  “Look, I know that I…might have crossed a line asking you out before. I want you to know that while I do like you—as a person, you know—this is strictly a professional move. No strings attached. Just a job that you’re highly qualified for.”

  A tinge of awkwardness crept into the air, but she’d had years of experience trying to charge through those kinds of moments. “Again, I’m flattered.” She ran her fingers along the top of the contract, where the black letterhead spelled out the company name and address. “Salt Lake City. That’s a big move for me.”

  “It is. But you’ll only be a couple of hours away from here, which makes it easy to come back and visit, or for people here to visit you. Part of your benefits include moving expenses, too, as well as a discount rate if you choose to move into one of our properties. It’s all outlined…” He flipped the document to the second page and pointed at a chunky paragraph. “Here.”

  She read about the property, the 25 percent off rent she’d receive if she moved into one of their town houses, and that they’d cover five hundred dollars in moving costs.

  Emma thought about her little house in the tiny town she’d lived in all her life, and about packing up and moving Zoey to a city. In another state. She could still remember how, after visits to the city when she was growing up, she’d turn around in the backseat of the car and stare at the tall buildings and lights and think about how someday she’d live in a place like that.

  The long-ago dream of her designs being in magazines flashed through her mind, too. She’d never been closer to making that a reality than she was right now, this job opportunity laid out before her.

  It’d be so nice to have more breathing room when it came to my finances, too. She was good at running numbers and making do, but she’d scowled at the price of diapers and formula before—and now pull-ups, and toddler clothes and shoes that got too small too quickly—and wondered why everything had to be so expensive. She’d also wondered what it’d be like to buy the name brands, to not have a panic attack over unexpected expenses, and to have enough extra to start a college savings account for Zoey.

  While she was working on becoming bolder, Emma still couldn’t quite find the actual salary for the job, and she felt rude bluntly asking, which she knew was silly, but there it was anyway.

  Then there was her one other thought, the one that shouted louder than the rest, despite it being the newest development: But what about Cam?

  Other questions came on its heels. Where would that leave them? What about Zoey’s relationship with her dad?

  How could she tear her daughter away from her father right when they’d connected?

  Her gaze snagged on a figure, and when she realized it was the yearly salary, she couldn’t stop staring. It was significantly more than she made now. Yes, the price of living would be higher in the city, but Precision Commercial Design was willing to offset that some if she lived in one of their town houses. She’d seen pictures online, too, back when she’d found out Pete would be consulting and looked into his company. The town houses were nice—far nicer than her run-down current home.

  The tornado of emotions swirled higher and faster, and then she realized Pete was standing in front of her, and she should say something. Anything. “Wow.” Okay, she needed something else, something she hadn’t already said. “I’m so flattered by this generous offer. Can I think about it? I’d like some time to look over the contract.”

  “Of course, of course.” Pete flashed her a smile that had a salesman’s edge, although she didn’t doubt it was also genuine. “I really think you’d love working for us, Emma. As great as your crew here is, the one we use in Utah is a bit more organized, and we get through projects faster than any of our other competitors. You’d have the chance to design more, too, and I know opportunities to do that don’t come around often here. I’ve seen the way you work, and I know you’d fit right in.”

  “Thank you.” Unsure what else to do, she headed toward the door of the cabin—the one thing she was sure of was that she needed more air.

  She jumped over the last wobbly step to avoid an accidental face-plant, and Pete stepped over it. Then he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Call me if you have any questions,” he said. “In fact, if you’d like to discuss it over dinner tonight, I was planning on heading to Seth’s Steak and Saloon.”

  “Oh, I’ve got Zoey, so…” This was her future career, though. “Let me get back to you on dinner.”

  “No worries. I’ll be there at eight. Come if you can, and if not, we can discuss it tomorrow when you get a chance.”

  Tomorrow? She was supposed to decide her entire future in one day? With this job coming to a close, she knew she needed to worry about where her next source of income would be. Hope Springs Construction was a great company to work for, and Mr. Strickland had been so good to her, but they had a lot of slow months where her salary dropped to the bare minimum. Plus, most of those jobs were strictly construction.

  She’d promised Grandma that she’d take the big leap, too, and escape to the big city like she’d always talked about.

  But lately she hadn’t felt the need for an escape like she used to. She’d started to finally feel like she belonged in Hope Springs.

  And a big part of that was a certain guy who’d spent the weekend in the mountains with her, making her think that a fairy-tale romance might still be in the realm of possibilities for her.

  …

  Cam watched Emma walk out of the cabin she’d just been in with Pete. He wanted to follow her and demand to know what they’d been doing in there. Before they’d disappeared inside, he’d seen the brief touches and shared laughter, and he’d wanted to go throw Emma over his shoulder in some caveman-like display and grunt, “Mine.”

  The longer they were in there, the stronger that urge grew, and he’d been seconds from storming over, barging in, and asking what the hell was going on.

  Honestly, he didn’t think he’d be able to keep himself from picking up the little dude by his collar as he yelled at him to stay away from Emma.

  So he’d held his ground on the porch the next cabin over, continuing to work with the rest of the guys as he told himself it was nothing. That they worked together.

  But that gesture at the end when they’d come out together and Pete had squeezed her shoulder…

  Another toxic surge of jealousy flooded his veins. Cam already knew the guy had asked Emma out, too, so there was clearly interest on his part.

  Through the rising anger and suspicion, he reminded himself that when he’d brought up how the guy had asked her out, Emma had told him it’d never even been a competition. Reminded himself that they had a daughter and things were good between
them, especially after their trip.

  If he charged over and showed how ugly his temper could be, he’d ruin everything.

  Of course his phone call with Torres chose that moment to resurface, which didn’t help matters.

  Just like that, his patience wore out, and he wanted information. Assurances.

  Right as he was about to charge after Emma and demand both, he saw that she was on her way toward him, her toolbox now in her hand.

  Cam gripped his hammer tighter, telling himself to start easy. To avoid yelling.

  “Hey, boys,” Emma said as she approached, giving him a small smile before turning to the rest of the guys. “Where are we at?”

  Tom stepped forward and listed the finishing touches that needed to be done and told Emma that they might just be able to wrap everything up by tomorrow night, even with the mowing and trimming.

  Which sent a sense of urgency through Cam he didn’t exactly understand. Not having her working on the property daily would suck, but it wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

  She tipped her head toward the cabin she and Pete had been in together for more than ten minutes. “The bottom stair on cabin three is loose. I’m going to take care of it, but I want every porch checked. Add that to the list of final touches, please.”

  Tom took his pen from behind his ear and wrote it down.

  “I’ll come with you,” Cam said as she started down the steps, bouncing on each one before moving to the next.

  They walked over to the cabin, and he held it in as long as he could, but then it burst out of him. “Something going on with you and Pete?”

  Emma looked at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “Just work stuff.”

  “It looked more friendly than that.”

  “We’re friends. Why are you being so weird?”

  “I don’t like him.” And if he puts his hands on you again, I’m going to have to break them.

  “He’s been really great to me.”

  “Yeah, because he wants to get in your pants.”

  Offense pinched her features. “Or maybe it’s because he thinks I’m a valuable asset. I’ve worked my butt off on this job, and it wasn’t easy. You’ve only seen the end product and the finishing touches. Do you know how hard I had to work to get the guys to listen to me in the beginning? I’ve always wanted to be part of a project like this, and there were times I was sure I was going to screw it up, and it’s nice that at least someone believes in me.”

  “Who says I don’t believe in you? And why are you changing the subject?”

  Emma scowled at him. “You’re being so weird today. You didn’t even come to say hi first thing this morning—in fact, you haven’t talked to me all damn day—and now you’re getting mad because I talked to my coworker.” She knelt down in front of the bottom step. “Just go back to the other cabin. I don’t need your help.”

  He tried to suppress his growl, but it came out anyway.

  Emma stuck a nail in place and started hammering away.

  “Emma.”

  She kept on hammering like he’d never said anything. No denying she was pissed—there was the ignoring, missing the nail as often as she hit it but continuing to pound it in as if it had personally offended her, and she didn’t usually swear, either.

  “I believe in you, okay?” He crouched down next to her, ignored the risk of smashing or impalement and caught her swinging arm, and then used his free hand to brush her hair off her face. “Even if you are putting that nail in crooked.”

  She gasped, and he couldn’t help it—he laughed. Since that didn’t seem to be winning her over, he lifted his hands in the air, showing that he gave. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. I’ve been a grouchy ass all day.”

  He thought she was going to hold onto her anger, but then she shrugged a shoulder, and her expression softened.

  He slowly took the hammer out of her hands then kissed her cheek, leaving his lips on her soft skin as he spoke. “Hey, baby. How are you today?”

  One corner of her mouth lifted. “See? Was that so hard?”

  He cupped her chin and gently twisted her face toward his. Then he kissed her—really kissed her, lips and tongue and given and taken breaths, not caring that they were in the middle of the workday. And okay, maybe a little bit hoping Pete would see, as well as the rest of the guys. Let them know she was his.

  When he pulled back, though, a hint of worry remained in her features. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I…” She licked her lips, and he got a little lost in the movement and the desire to kiss her again—this was what he needed to remember. Emma calmed him. He could trust her. He…well, something more than liked her. “I need to talk to—”

  “Cam?” Heath strode over. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s Dad. He was at the shop, working on a car, and he dropped the differential from it on his foot. Sheena’s there, but she can’t convince him to go to the doctor—even though he’s bleeding and it nearly chopped off his big toe—so she called me. I could use some backup, in case we have to carry his stubborn ass into the emergency room.”

  Emma stood along with him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Do you need me to go with you? I can…well, I’m not sure how effective I’d be at talking sense into him, but I can try. Or provide moral support. Whatever you need.”

  Who knew what Dad would say or how ugly this would get? “It’s okay,” Cam said, covering her hand with his. “You stay and keep things going here. Talk later?”

  She nodded. “Okay. If you need anything, just call.”

  He gave her a quick peck on the lips, then he rushed off with his brother, thinking this entire situation felt a little too much like high school and the incident that started everything bad. Well, it made the bad way, way worse—from constant drinking to Mom walking out on them all when she couldn’t handle it.

  Fingers crossed alcohol wasn’t the cause of it in the first place, or he might just lose his cool for the second time today.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emma thought she felt her phone vibrate against her hip, so she switched the plate of cookies to her left hand and pulled her cell out of her pocket, frowning when she didn’t have a message.

  “Waiting for a call from a certain someone?” Grandma Bev asked, her hands full with a platter of brownies.

  “No.” Emma shoved her phone in her pocket, walked up the last few stairs to the church, and pulled open the door. Instead of walking through, Grandma paused in the doorway and gave her a skeptical eyebrow raise, complete with pursed lips.

  “Come on, Zoey,” Emma called, trying to keep her daughter’s attention on climbing the last few steps before a butterfly or bird flew by and distracted her. Then they’d have to play twenty questions, all of them why?

  Not only was Zoey not rushing, Grandma Bev was clearly still waiting for a different answer than the one Emma had given. “Okay, kind of. Cam’s dad had a minor accident this afternoon, and I’m waiting for an update on how he’s doing.”

  Cam wasn’t very informative when it came to texts. They were bare minimum, only pertinent information, with the first saying, “He’s fine,” which she thought meant out of the hospital, but when she pressed he’d added, “They say he needs a cast.” That was an hour or so ago.

  “I noticed you still haven’t brought that boy to meet me yet,” Grandma said, crossing the threshold of the church and then leaning against the door to help keep it open.

  “I’ve been meaning to, I swear, but we’ve been busy.”

  “And you don’t want me to scare him off.”

  Both confirming and denying involved land mines, so Emma turned and urged her daughter to hurry, for both their sakes.

  Finally Zoey managed the last step and strolled through the open doorway, into the bright hallway. The quilting ladies usually met during the day, but they always made quilts for newlyweds and displayed them at the reception, and with Sadie’s and Quinn’s weddings coming up, they were making two. Which meant
the occasional evening session, and those were the only ones Emma could attend. Even then, it was usually by coercion on Grandma Bev’s part. But she figured she could put in an hour or so before Zoey would get too crabby. Unless Cam texted or called to tell her he needed her. Either way, it’d be a good way to keep her mind busy, and right now, she desperately needed that.

  “Emma! Long time, no see,” Doris, who was Sadie’s grandma, said. Then she smiled at Zoey and asked how she was.

  “Uncle Heath has puppy. I stay with it.”

  “Do you like puppies, then?” Doris asked, and Zoey nodded emphatically.

  Grandma Bev glanced at Emma, questions swimming through her eyes.

  “Cam and I went camping over the weekend, and Zoey stayed with Heath and Quinn.” Emma set down her plate of cookies on the nearby table and took the platter of brownies from Grandma so she could do the same with them. “Zoey’s obsessed with their puppy.”

  “Sounds like it’s getting serious.”

  “Yeah, Zoey and Trigger have shared Goldfish and an ice cream cone, so they’ll probably make it official any day now.”

  A few of the other ladies laughed, but Grandma Bev just let loose a long-suffering sigh. Emma took the coloring book and crayons out of her bag and set them in front of Zoey. Before Grandma could get a chance to grill her further, Emma sat down and picked up a needle and thread, concentrating on the double wedding ring pattern in front of her and searching for the spot where she needed to start.

  Grandma sat next to her and picked up her own needle and thread. “What about architecture firms?” Of course she wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re not thinking of giving up on working for one, are you?”

  Emma thought about the contract for the job offer she’d received, now buried in the depths of her bag. Earlier she’d held back the news about the job with Cam—just for a second, because he’d made her mad, ignoring her all day and then accusing her of having something more with Pete. But right as she was about to tell him, they’d been interrupted.

  Now she’d had too much time to think about the job offer without anyone to bounce it off. The reality of the situation had sunk in, and she desperately needed to talk about everything, but Grandma Bev was far too biased, and she’d just tell her that she’d be a fool not to take the job.