Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

W arrick

It felt good to have a target for my rage. I was self-aware enough to know that this Cayden asshole was a convenient scapegoat for the grief over my father's death. Rather than sit with those feelings of loss, I was turning all that emotion into anger directed at the man—could I even call him a man? More like a weasel—who would create such chaos in his little girl's life. I'd only spent a week with Georgia and I couldn't imagine abandoning her. That asshole had had five fucking years to pull his head out of his ass and be a father and didn't take the opportunity? Fucking dumbass, if you asked me.

Technically none of this was any of my business, but both girls would be living with me in a matter of days, so I told myself that calling my lawyer back in the city last night was not an overstep so much as a helping hand from one roommate to another.

Em's rattling truck pulled up the drive and I stood on the porch with two cups of coffee in hand. Pip was already here, grunting some choice German words as she slid the new vanity into place in Mom's bathroom. I'd offered to help, but her face had twisted into something inhuman. I backed away before she had my balls in a vise.

"Sorry I'm late." Em slid out of the truck and hurried to the back to grab her tool belt.

Fuck. There was something sexy about a capable woman with a leather strap around her waist and deadly weapons dangling from it. I shook my head at my own thoughts. The woman was as pretty as she was disagreeable. I normally didn't have any problem getting women to like me, but Em was proving to be quite a bit different. She was as skittish as Bessie.

Em climbed the stairs, took the cup of coffee out of my hands without a goddamn thank-you, and then threw a brown paper bag at me as she stepped inside the house. I caught it, nearly scalding myself as the hot coffee sloshed over the lip of my own cup. I followed her inside and tried not to stare at those hips subtly swinging right and left as she marched to the kitchen. She didn't bother looking back at me, just squatted down by the new sink and assessed the pipes underneath.

"Good morning to you too, Slaywright," I drawled.

"Don't use that tone with me. Just open the damn bag, Dick," she snapped, pulling some tool off her belt and making a racket under the sink.

I shook my head, fighting a full-blown smile at the nickname. She was in rare form today. Maybe moving while working and single-parenting and fighting a court battle would do that to a person. Here I was, thinking we might have turned a corner yesterday when she opened up to me as I milked Bessie. Then again, she'd been looking that heifer in the eye, not me, so maybe she'd meant to confess all that to the damn animal instead.

Setting down my cup of coffee on the top of the countertop-less cabinets, I ripped open the brown bag. A pair of Levi's fell out. Now there was no use fighting that smile. It stretched across my face and nearly crowded Em's foul curses out of the room. She must really fucking hate these jeans of mine.

"Why, Emmerleigh Slaywright, you been checking out my butt?"

Something clattered under the sink and Em's head reappeared, cheeks stained red. She rolled her eyes instead of making eye contact, which only made my smile turn into a satisfied chuckle. I wasn't flirting, I swore. Just making nice with my contractor so she didn't kill me in my sleep after she moved in.

"I can't live with a man who wears jeans fancier than mine. It'll disrupt the laws of nature."

I grabbed the jeans off the cabinet. "Well, we can't have that." I paused, wondering if now was a good time to tell her what I found out from my lawyer. She seemed a little frazzled and a lot temperamental, but then again, when was she not? "I did some research last night. Called an old lawyer friend of mine."

Em stiffened, her gaze finally lifting to lock with mine. I could see the fear in her eyes, even if she didn't let her body or her expression show it. I had to admire that kind of spirit.

"I explained the situation based off what you told me yesterday. He said it's doubtful Cayden can get parental rights back, but depending on how he explains his five-year absence, he could get visitation."

The hand holding the wrench went white at the knuckles. Then the wrench began to tremble and the part of me that always wanted to take care of people started whimpering. I'd come up with a plan last night. An incredibly reckless plan that I told myself I'd only offer if she appeared upset. I'd say we were there.

I opened my mouth again, bracing for a fight to get her to accept my help. "So hear me out. Let's make your case so strong, there's no way a judge will think Cayden is a better parent. We'll paint you as more stable than the Statue of fucking Liberty in the harbor."

Em's gaze didn't waver. "How?" she asked quietly.

I took one last breath before all hell broke loose.

"Marry me."

Em choked and began to cough, the wrench clattering to the floor. "Excuse me?" she croaked, gaze darting all around the room, but not at me.

I shrugged, determined to act like asking a woman to marry me after forty-four years of the bachelor life wasn't that big of a deal. Fuck me, but my heart was pounding.

"Marry me. Stable relationship in a two-parent home, steady housing, financially stable. You know I have money based on my fancy pants." I winked and swiveled to give her a good view of my jeans from all angles. Not that she was even looking at me.

Em got to her feet, apparently forgetting about the sink long enough to deal with a marriage proposal. Good to know what got her mind off the job. She dusted her hands across the seat of her jeans and then looked like she didn't know what to do with them. She leaned her hip against the counter and looked at my boots while her hands found her tool belt. Was she reaching for weapons? One could never really tell with Em.

"W-why would you even offer that?"

I stepped further into the kitchen, knowing I was chancing her running out of the room altogether if I got too close. There was no bucket under my ass to kick, but I had no doubt Em would find a way to keep me out of her personal space.

"Listen, my mother raised us boys telling the truth about the bad situation she'd been in before my dad came along. Protecting women at all costs was instilled in us before brushing our teeth was."

"Contrary to recent events, I can take care of myself." Em's fists tightened on her tool belt. Damn, that stubborn streak was a mile wide .

I held my hands up. "Understood. But do you really want to chance it right now? With Georgia?"

She flinched, like I'd physically hit her with that comment.

"I'm retired, having sold my business not even a year ago. I have more money than I know what to do with. I moved back home to Blueball to find something to do with my life. This'll give me that something while helping out a good person." I chanced a wry grin. "As much as you yell at people and possess the character flaw of being afraid of teeny-tiny spiders, you're a good person, Slaywright. Let me help."

The little clock on the kitchen wall that had probably been there before I was born ticked away the seconds as Em glared at me. At several points in my life, I'd envisioned proposing to a woman. In none of those fantasies had it looked like this.

"You're heavy-handed with your offers of help, Dick," Em finally said quietly.

"And you're stubborn as a mule with your acceptance of help, Slaywright," I drawled right back.

If she thought calling me Dick would make me angry, she clearly didn't understand how my mind worked. I figured Dick coming out of her mouth was secondary to her brain always being on my dick. Which I didn't mind at all.

Her head was shaking like she'd already made a decision. "A marriage, even for convenience, would not end well for us. One of us would likely end up dead and I have a feeling I know which one."

My gaze dropped to the hammer on her tool belt. The same one her hand was currently gripping. Instead of feeling threatened, I felt something stir in my gut. Interest. Fun. Challenge. Something to break up the monotony of the rest of my days. I knew I shouldn't feel that way. My offer really did come without strings attached, but was it so harmless to extract a little bit of something out of this situation for myself?

I felt her gaze taking in every inch of my smile. "Sounds like fun. "

She rolled her eyes and marched out of the room, careful not to touch me as she breezed by.

"Think about it!" I hollered over my shoulder, chuckling when her only answer was a growl.