Holiday Baby Scandal
“Miss O’Shea said she’d be by today.” He tugged the door open and held it with his foot as he shoved his keys back into his coat pocket. “I figured since you were here, she sent you.”
Miss O’Shea? Laney? What the hell was going on?
Ryker was an O’Shea by default, so there was no questioning why the contractor would think such a thing. Everyone around the area knew full well who the infamous family was, and who Ryker associated with and now called family.
Deciding to play along and figure out what Laney was up to—though after this morning he had no right—Ryker headed toward the open door. Once the two were inside, Ryker glanced around. The place was empty, save for the cobwebs that could only have come from tarantulas, some old boxes and some loose flooring.
“As I told Miss O’Shea the other day, I’m reworking the electrical.” Mr. Pauley walked through the space and kept talking as if Ryker knew exactly what was going on. “I’m not sure about the kitchen. I may need to rewire some things in there, especially for the appliances she’s wanting to use. This building is definitely not up to par for the two ovens she’s suggested.”
What the hell was Laney going to do with a building in Southie? Ryker continued following the middle-aged man toward what he assumed was the kitchen.
“She’s got in mind she needs to crank out several meals a day. I admire her gumption, but this is going to take a lot of money to keep going.”
Glancing at the cracked countertops, a rusted refrigerator, a sink that used to be white, Ryker started spinning ideas in his head. And all of them revolved around the perfectly generous Laney.
“But if anyone can help these kids it’s her. Patrick was determined to save people.” Mr. Pauley glanced back to Ryker with a side grin. “Anyway, this outside wall would be the best location for the ovens, but the wiring is all off. It can be run here. It’s just going to cost more than the initial estimate I gave her. Same with the ventilation. Not much more, but—”
“I’ll cover it.”
His head was spinning, his mind racing over what could have possibly gotten into Laney’s big heart that made her want to do this.
Damn the emotions she forced out of him. She wasn’t even here and he was facing things he didn’t want to. He was feeling so much...and he wasn’t as afraid as he used to be. She’d come into his old neighborhood, she was renovating this old building to help kids...just like he used to be.
But he’d told her about his sordid childhood only days ago. There was no way she could’ve set things in motion that fast—no matter what her last name was.
Something twisted in Ryker’s chest, some foreign emotion he almost didn’t want to put a name to. The weight of this newfound feeling seemed to awaken something so deep within him, Ryker wondered how long he’d suppressed everything that was bursting through him now.
His entire life.
Ryker tried to focus back on what Mr. Pauley was saying as he pointed and gestured toward various parts of the spacious area that would become Laney’s ideal kitchen.
Whatever Laney wanted, he was completely on board.
Seventeen
For the second time in as many weeks, Ryker had made a purchase at All Seasons. Now he stood outside Laney’s house feeling like a fool. Perhaps this wasn’t the way to go about things. Maybe he’d blown his chance when he flipped out over the crib and let all those doubts ruin what they had going on.
Since he left yesterday morning, she’d only texted him once, and that was to remind him of the home in Bradenton. He hadn’t gone yet; there were more pressing matters to attend to.
For the first time in his life since becoming part of the O’Shea family, he was putting work on hold.
Because he didn’t feel like he deserved to walk right in using his key, he rang the bell and gripped the shopping sack in his hand.
He didn’t wait long before the door swung open. Laney didn’t say anything, and he waited for her to slam the door in his face. To his surprise, and relief, she stepped back and gestured for him to come in.
The warmth of her home instantly surrounded him. She had a fire in the fireplace, her tree sparkled with all the lights he’d put on it. This was home, a perfect home for their child to be raised in.
“Did you get to the estate?” she asked, brushing past him and heading back toward the kitchen.
“This is more important.”
Laney stopped in her tracks, just as she hit the hallway off the living room. Her shoulders lifted as she drew in a breath and let out a deep sigh. When she turned, Ryker didn’t waste any time moving toward her. He was done running, done hurting her, hurting them.
“I brought something for you.” He extended the sack, smiling when her eyes caught the name on the side. “You can open it now.”
She quirked a brow, kept her eyes on his and reached for the bag. Laney fisted the handles and stepped aside, sinking into the oversize chair. With the bag in her lap, she pulled out the tissue paper. Ryker shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for her reaction, hoping he’d gone the right route in winning her back.
When she gasped and pulled out a white-and-gold stocking, her eyes immediately filled. That was a good sign...wasn’t it?