From Fortune To Family Man. Judy Duarte

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From Fortune To Family Man - Judy  Duarte

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stand there,” Kieran said. “Come on in.” He moved aside the pink plastic shopping cart as well as the child-size kitchen, making a pathway for her. “Can I get you something to drink? I have every kind of fruit juice imaginable as well as Gatorade, punch and soda pop. Oh, there’s also chocolate milk. But if you’re up for something a little stronger, like I happen to be, you have your choice of beer and wine. I also have a full bar in the dining room.”

      “Actually, wine sounds good to me.”

      “You got it. What’s your preference? Red or white?”

      “Whatever’s easiest.”

      “I have a sauvignon blanc in the fridge.”

      “Perfect.”

      “Have a seat.” He directed her to the marble counter in the kitchen with a set of sleek black barstools. And she complied.

      While Kieran uncorked the bottle, Dana scanned the interior of his home. She tried, in spite of the dolls and toys that littered the living room, to remember what his bachelor pad had looked like when she and Zach had attended his party.

      The modern furnishings were both expensive and impressive. The artwork that adorned the walls and the sculptures that were displayed throughout also must have cost plenty, which made her suspect he’d hired a decorator.

      What a contrast it was to her quaint little home, which she’d decorated herself, mostly with items she’d purchased at estate sales and antiques stores.

      “There you go,” Kieran said, as he placed a glass of chilled wine in front of her.

      “Thank you.” She took a long, appreciative sip and watched him move about the kitchen, with its state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances that would please a master chef, and prepare a plate of crackers, cheese and grapes.

      Did he usually fix dinner for a woman while they both enjoyed a glass of wine? Did he play soft, romantic music in the background?

      Not that it mattered. But she had to admit she was curious about the women Kieran might bring home, the ones he found attractive. Did he prefer tall, leggy blondes? Maybe shapely and voluptuous brunettes?

      Or how about quirky redheads?

      She chased away that wacky thought as quickly as it crossed her mind. A man like Kieran Fortune wouldn’t be the least bit interested in a woman like her. And while she found him more than a little appealing, he really wasn’t her type, either. Still, she was intrigued by the handsome, dedicated bachelor who, according to Zach, claimed that he’d never settle down.

      Yet here he was, apparently becoming a family man. How was that going to work out for him?

      He removed a longneck bottle of Corona from the fridge, opened it and took a drink before sitting in the barstool next to hers.

      “So tell me about you,” he said, his gaze warm, his expression suggesting genuine interest.

      She could understand that. Even though she’d dated his best friend for the past six months, Zach’s priority in life was his daughter, which was fine with Dana. So when they’d dated, they’d stuck pretty close to the ranch or else they’d gone out for a hamburger and a movie. At that same time, Kieran had been working on a special project for Robinson Tech, so Dana had only run into him a couple of times.

      Still, his comment and his curiosity took her aback. She wasn’t here to make any kind of personal connection with him. Sure, she sympathized with him and wanted to offer her help with Rosie. But this visit wasn’t about her.

      “There’s not much to tell,” she said. “I’m in grad school, although I took a break from my classes this semester to focus on a special project for the Austin History Center. I work there as a researcher.”

      “I knew that much,” he said. “What do you do on your days off?”

      She didn’t usually share that sort of thing with people her age, since her favorite things to do might be considered unusual. But she decided there wasn’t any reason to worry about what Kieran might think. “I enjoy taking long walks in my neighborhood, shopping in my favorite antiques store and going to estate sales.”

      “Seriously?”

      See? He was no different from anyone else.

      “Yes,” she admitted. “I bought a house in Hyde Park and like to find interesting things to decorate it the way it might have looked back in 1948, when it was built.”

      He studied her a moment, as if still trying to decide whether she was pulling his leg, then smiled. “I’d like to see your place someday.”

      Now she was the one to wonder if he was being sincere or just being polite and making small talk. But she shrugged it off and said, “I’d be happy to show it to you. I’m proud of the way it’s all coming together.”

      “Do you own the house?” he asked. “Or are you renting?”

      Was he wondering if she could afford to buy a place of her own?

      She supposed he’d have no reason to ask, other than plain curiosity, so she leveled with him. “I purchased a two-bedroom fixer-upper about six months ago with the idea of flipping it, but the renovations took a while and were a lot of work. So now that it’s done, I’d like to enjoy the fruits of my labor for a while.”

      “Are you going to keep it, then?”

      “No, within the next six months, I’ll sell it and buy another in the same neighborhood.”

      He took another drink of beer and eyed her carefully. “I’m impressed.”

      With her?

      Or with the completed renovation project?

      “Now I’d really like to see it,” he added.

      Okay, so it had been the work she’d done on the house that had surprised and intrigued him.

      “You’re more than welcome to stop by anytime,” she said. “It’s not as classy, modern or impressive as your place, but it’s warm and appealing to me.” And to be honest, even though she’d never admit it to anyone else, she was also proud of the house since she’d done most of the work herself.

      “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he asked, a smile lighting his blue eyes.

      She’d never been especially comfortable talking about herself or blowing her own horn, so she steered the conversation back to a topic that would suit them both better. “I hope you’ll bring Rosie when you come.”

      “Of course.”

      “And speaking of Rosie, have you hired a nanny or housekeeper yet?”

      “No, and I’d rather not—if I don’t have to. She attends preschool three days a week, so I’ll go to the office then. And on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’ll work from home.”

      “That sounds like a good plan.”

      “I hope so.” He glanced past her, his gaze landing on the toys, dolls and

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