“It’s worth a try.” He held out his arms. “Hey, Shorty, what’s up?”
The little girl silently stared at him, probably didn’t know what to make of a man in the kitchen. Maggie braced for an earsplitting protest, but after a moment’s hesitation, Danielle went to him and settled her chubby little arm around his neck. Then she touched the collar of his white cotton shirt. Obviously the man had a way with women of all ages. The shock had Maggie blinking at him, until she remembered that her daughter’s hands were unwashed and still grubby.
“Oh, no—she’s dirty. I’ll get a washcloth—”
Sloan looked down at the banana streaks on his white shirt and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll wash it for you.”
“Whatever.” He grinned when the child put her hands on his face and turned it to look at her. “You rang?”
She pointed in the general direction of the backyard. “Go ’side?”
Sloan met Maggie’s gaze. “Is it okay if I take her out?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know. But I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. Is it all right with you?”
“Yes,” she said helplessly.
“Okay, then. Let’s go, Shorty.”
Maggie’s heart melted at the sight of the big man carrying her little girl out of the room.
“I don’t remember any story in the tabloids about him having kids,” Josie said. “But he sure is good with yours.”
“I noticed.”
Charming, good with kids and not hard on the eyes. Sloan Holden was a triple threat. But he must have a flaw. Every man did.
In Sloan’s opinion, Danielle Potter was the spitting image of her mother, minus the wariness in her big brown eyes. Or maybe it was sadness. Losing a husband must have been rough, especially the part where she was raising a child on her own. He set the little girl down on the patio and her feet had barely touched the ground before she headed for the grass, still wet with morning dew. It was early March, not quite spring, and a bit chilly. But the sun was shining in a clear blue sky that promised a beautiful day ahead.
He’d never before been responsible for a child. Ever. How hard could it be? Glancing around the big yard made him glad it was fenced in and the wrought iron bars were too close together for the toddler to squeeze through. He knew because that was the first thing she tried. After a quick check, he was satisfied that the gates on either side were secure and there would be no escape that way.
Sloan watched her squat and touch something with her tiny, probing finger. Bug? Snake? In two long strides he was beside her. “Whatcha got there, Shorty?”
She pointed to something he couldn’t see and a stream of unintelligible sounds came out of her mouth. The expression on her face said she was looking for an appropriate response from him, but he had nothing. That happened when the party with whom you were conversing spoke a foreign language known only to herself, and possibly her mother.
“Is it grass?” He looked closer, hoping there was no dangerous, venomous creature lurking that would force him to do something manly, like deal with it.
She shook her head, then stood and toddled over to an area with bushes surrounded by bark chips to set it off from the grass. He was almost sure he’d heard somewhere that bugs collected in this environment, and it seemed like a bad idea to let her continue to explore unchaperoned.
Glancing around, he saw a brightly colored swing set with a slide and climbing equipment all rolled into one. Clearly it was there for Danielle’s pleasure, so maybe he could channel her attention in that direction. And away from insect central.
He scooped her up in his arms, which set off instant rebellion. Sloan’s response to this was a revelation. Size and strength were on his side and ought to count for something but really didn’t. He would give her anything she wanted to make her happy.
“Want to go on the slide?” He held her high above him, pleased when she giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He set her at the top of the thing. It wasn’t that high, but he was loath to let go and give her over to the unpredictability of gravity. It was remarkably astonishing to him how powerful his urge was to protect this small girl he’d voluntarily taken responsibility for. He held on to her as she slid down the short slide, then helped steady her at the bottom.
“Again,” she said very clearly.
“Okay. And we have a winner.” The sense of accomplishment he experienced at pleasing her wasn’t all that dissimilar from the satisfaction he felt at overcoming a particularly challenging construction problem.
Sloan set her at the top of the structure and held on a little more loosely this time, although he was ready to scoop her up if the situation went south. Fortunately it didn’t.
She grinned up at him and said, “Again.”
“Your wish is my command, milady.”
But before he could lift her up, the back door opened and Maggie stood there.
“Mama. Cookie,” Danielle said, toddling over to her mother.
“Breakfast first.” She met his gaze and there was a dash of respect in hers. “It’s ready. Thanks to you for entertaining her.”
“The pleasure was mine.” He truly meant that. “I enjoyed hanging out with her.”
“You’re very good with her. Do you spend a lot of time with kids?”
“Actually, no. That was a first for me,” he admitted.
“So you’re a natural. Someone should alert the paparazzi,” she teased.
“Oh, please no. I’ll give you anything to keep my secret.”
“You might change your mind after breakfast. And you must be starving. Everything is on the dining room table. Help yourself.” She grabbed up her daughter and settled the child on her hip. “I’ll get this one fed in the kitchen. So you can have some peace and quiet. If you’re interested, I’ve set out newspapers—local and national.”
“Thanks.” Sloan was less interested in newsprint than he was the sight in front of him—the beautiful young mother snuggling her rosy-cheeked toddler close.
He understood her struggle to make a home for boarders while carving out a private space for her own family, but would rather have filled a plate and followed the two of them to the kitchen.
That was different.
* * *
An hour later, after changing out of his banana-slimed
