Daddy in the Making by Sharon De Vita

Author:Sharon De Vita
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2004-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Rubbing her throbbing temples, Angela carefully unloaded her first two bags of groceries, setting everything either on the counter or the kitchen table, depending on where it went.

After a frustrating afternoon arguing with the county tax assessor over the base figure he’d used to calculate the new property tax rate on the inn, she had not come home in the best of moods. Because of the snowstorms, everyone had been cooped up at home for days, so traffic in town had been a nightmare. Tempers had been short, so it had taken twice as long as she’d planned to do every errand, which only frustrated her more. By the time she’d pulled into the long winding drive of the inn, she’d had a raging headache.

Once she’d gotten the back door open—after nearly dropping the bag with the five dozen eggs—she’d stepped into the house, realizing it was quiet. Too quiet. Trying not to panic, she’d simply set the bags on the table and headed upstairs, where she realized a major battle had just concluded.

She stayed outside Emma’s room waiting, listening, making certain Michael hadn’t needed any reinforcements. He’d surprised her with the way he’d handled the situation. The man was, she thought again, a natural with children.

“What? Were you worried there’d be a run on eggs?” Michael asked with a lift of his brow as he pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen and saw the dozens of eggs on the table.

“No,” Angela said with a smile. “They’re for the Christmas festival. Cookies,” she clarified at his frown as he grabbed a bag of groceries and began to help her unload. “Every year, I swear I’m going to get a head start on my baking and every year something comes up and I get behind. This year, I’m determined to get started early.” She opened the refrigerator and made room inside for the eggs before turning to face Michael.

“You don’t have to help with that, Michael,” she said as he lifted five pounds of sugar and flour into the cabinet for her.

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m standing right here.” He shut the cabinet door and looked at her. “Angela, look, I’m sorry about what happened with the girls. I was pretty sure I had a handle on things. Pretty sure I had things under control, and then—”

“Michael.” She went to him, laying her hands on his chest—wanting, needing to touch him. “You did a wonderful job.”

“Yeah?” His face brightened at her words and her closeness.

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that the girls were probably having one of their world-class arguments.” She shrugged. “Kids fight, Michael. It’s part of life and growing up and having friends. But the important thing is that they fight fair and that they make up afterward and not do anything deliberately to hurt one another, and if they do, that they apologize and make things right. I think that’s something you taught Emma today in a way that she’ll remember.

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