Resentment snaked up her spine, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want every discussion to end as an argument over her missing brother. “I’m sure he’ll do just fine,” she said and stood. “What time does she need dinner?”
He glanced at his watch. “In an hour or so. I should give her a bath.”
“Oh, let me do it.” She snuggled Cara and looked at him. “I mean, if that’s okay with you?”
He hesitated a little. “Have you done it before?”
“Yes,” she replied instantly. “My cousin Grady has three young daughters and I’ve been the babysitter countless times.”
He nodded. “Okay...she’s all yours.”
Brooke met his gaze. “Thank you... I mean, for trusting me. It means a lot.”
Brooke discovered that bath time was a lot of fun—even though there was more water on the floor than there was in the tub by the time she’d finished. Cara blew bubbles and splashed water and wailed for a moment when Brooke got a little shampoo in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d bathed a baby—like she’d told Tyler, her cousin Grady had three young daughters and she’d been a sitter for them many times. She dressed the baby in the pale pink pajamas Tyler had given her, cleaned up the bathroom and then headed for the kitchen.
Tyler was by the window, staring out over the hills and pasture that made up the ranch. His shoulders were tight, as though he had too much pressing down on them, and she fought the internal battle in her head about feeling sorry for him. He was a lawyer. And lawyers were the enemy. He’d threatened to take Cara back to New York if Matt didn’t show up. He was not her ally. He was not her friend. He was not her anything.
“We’re back.”
He turned around and half smiled and it made him look even more handsome—if that were possible. “So I see. Did she behave herself?”
Cara wriggled in Brooke’s arms and held her hands out toward him. Traitorous child. She walked across the room and let him take her. “She likes to splash.”
“I... I can see that,” he said, faltering a little as he held the baby against his chest and then glanced away.
Brooke looked down and stilled instantly. The wet T-shirt clung to her curves, leaving very little to the imagination. She folded her arms, conscious of the sudden heat swirling around the room. Heat that was all about the awareness circling between them.
Cara immediately reached out and grabbed a handful of Tyler’s hair. He winced and it made Brooke smile. There was love in the baby’s eyes and in that moment Brooke realized how much he meant to Cara. “She adores you.”
He met her gaze and extricated his hair from Cara’s fingers. “Who wouldn’t?”
Brooke laughed loudly. “Modest, too, huh?”
“We’ve spent a lot of time together, haven’t we, kiddo?” he said and rocked her gently. “When Yelena died her grandfather didn’t cope well. Ralph is a strong man, but Yelena was all he had.”
“Her grandfather raised her?”
He nodded. “Since she was eleven. They were very close.”
Brooke grabbed the sweater that was hanging on a hook hear the door and slipped into it, zipping it up. Then she came around the counter and flicked on the coffee machine. “He must trust you a great deal... I mean, to leave Cara in your care. You said you’ve known him a long time—how did you meet?”
He didn’t reply straightaway. But he looked at her with such intensity he made her breathless. He was the secretive sort, she thought. No...private. A lot like herself. Brooke never liked talking about herself or her past. Only her closest friends knew about her health battle as a teenager and the ensuing years of treatment and surgery. Or how her parents’ deaths had forced her to abandon her professional career so she could ensure the ranch stayed within the family. Or how Doyle had sprinted out the door once he had the chance to have what she could never give him.
Since then she’d had a lonely couple of years, working the ranch, fighting lawyers and the bank who wanted to foreclose. Some days she felt like she had no one to turn to. No shoulder to lean on, to cry on, no arms to hold her tight or a soft voice to tell her everything would be alright. Loneliness had become her shadow and it had made her wary of getting close to anyone again.
But as she looked at Cara, Brooke knew she did want closeness, and family and love. And knowing her niece needed her gave her a kind of strength and resolve she’d thought she’d lost.
“How did you meet?” she asked again.
“When I was sixteen,” he said after a moment and sat down at the table, while Cara wriggled in his arms. “He was my court-appointed lawyer.”
Brooke’s gaze sharpened. “Your lawyer?”
“I had filed for emancipation from my parents,” he said, his voice void of any emotion.
She sucked in a breath. “Oh, gosh...why?”
His expression narrowed. “It doesn’t matter why.”
It did, she thought, imagining all kinds of horrors. “Were they mean to you?”
He offered a cynical grin, like he couldn’t believe how inquisitive she was. “No, they were kind people. And good parents. They still are.”
“But?”
He sighed heavily, clearly irritated by her questions. “They were a little...unorthodox,” he said and stood. “We should get Cara fed and—”
“You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“Not particularly,” he replied. “Do you?”
“No,” she said. “But you have the advantage here. I need to make a good impression for Cara’s sake, so that means you get to ask whatever you want. And since we’re going to be living together for the next week, it’s only natural that I might want to know something about you. Plus, it will be a long week if we don’t speak to each other, don’t you think?”
His mouth curled, like he wanted to smile, but didn’t. “Okay, you can ask a couple of questions. What would you like to know?”
Brooke inhaled deeply. “You said earlier you don’t have a wife. Have you ever been married?”
“No.”
“Close?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Longest relationship and who was she?”
He shook his head again. “Six months. She worked in the DA’s office.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“No.”
“Why did you divorce your parents?” she asked quickly.
“Emancipate,” he corrected. “And it’s complicated.”
Brooke raised both brows. “I’m still listening.”
He sighed. “Like I said, they are kind people, but when I was thirteen they took up residence at a shared living community. It wasn’t a life that I wanted for myself.”
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Like a commune?”
He nodded. “I wanted to go to college. They didn’t agree with that decision.”
She grabbed a couple of mugs and put them on the counter. “So you ran away and got a lawyer.”
“I ran away and ended up in social services.”
It sounded like a nightmare and made Brooke even more grateful for