Building a Romance
Young widow Lainie Hollings will do anything to protect her daughters—even if it means accepting help from Shaw McKinney. Though she blames Shaw for her husband’s death, he’s the only one she can turn to when a robbery forces her to take shelter in his home. Soon she’s surprised by the handsome contractor. He’s kind, charming and determined to protect her and her girls. Being with Lainie makes Shaw want to give up his bachelor life and become a family man. But he’ll need to win over the pretty librarian and prove to her he’s the right man for her future.
“Give me your hand.”
She couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of this rugged guy sporting blue nail polish. She took the bottle of nail polish remover from the cupboard along with several cotton balls.
She forced herself to look only at the nail she was working on and not his face. But with each swipe of the cotton ball, she grew more and more conscious of how nice his hands were.
Touching him stirred an unwelcome attraction. But she was impressed with his willingness to let the girls cover him in stickers and paint his fingernails. She wouldn’t have expected that from a die-hard bachelor. Aware of the tension between them, Lainie cleared her throat and attempted light conversation. “My girls can be very persuasive.”
“A couple of little charmers. They told me this color matched my eyes.”
“Oh, no. Your eyes aren’t sky blue, they’re cobalt like those old bottles…” She froze. What was wrong with her?
“I’m partial to brown eyes myself.”
She had brown eyes.
LORRAINE BEATTY was raised in Columbus, Ohio, but now calls Mississippi home. She and her husband, Joe, have two sons and five grandchildren. Lorraine started writing in junior high and is a member of RWA and ACFW and is a charter member and past president of Magnolia State Romance Writers. In her spare time she likes to work in her garden, travel and spend time with her family.
Bachelor
to the Rescue
Lorraine Beatty
Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
—Psalms 139:23
To my sisters—Linda, Brenda, Tina and Kathy. We may not be related by blood but I love you all as if we were.
Contents
“Mommy, can we go home now? I’m tired of coloring.”
Lainie Hollings fought back the nausea churning in her stomach and gently stroked her youngest daughter’s hair. “Not yet, Chrissy. Why don’t you use the green crayon for a while?”
A weary sigh accompanied the nodding of the little head. Lainie watched her girls, six-year-old Natalie and four-year-old Christiana, as they scribbled on the pages the officer at the Dover Mississippi Police Station had given them to keep them entertained. They couldn’t go home because they had no home to go to. Her job as assistant to Mrs. Forsythe, a wealthy businesswoman in Memphis, Tennessee, had ended when her employer had moved away for health reasons. Thankfully, Lainie had quickly landed the position as head librarian for the Dover Public Library.
Today was their moving day. This morning, she had been filled with excitement and bursting with hope. This move marked the culmination of a dream she and her husband had once shared. They’d planned to leave Baton Rouge and its big city life behind and move to a small town where they could grow their family in a friendly, nurturing environment. They’d been saving for a house, but she had been forced to use the money for Craig’s funeral instead. Alone and pregnant with their second child, she’d moved to Jackson, Tennessee, to live with her mother and gone back to school at night to get her degree.
The past five years had been difficult, moving from place to place, job to job. The librarian position was her chance to find a permanent home.
So, they’d come to Dover a few days early to find a place to live and check into child care. It was supposed to be a fun trip discovering their new home. Instead, they were sitting in a police station, the victims of a crime. As they had been leaving a local restaurant, a man had shoved Lainie against her car, waved a gun in her face, then yanked her purse from her arm and fled. Thankfully, she’d already put the girls in the car. But all she had left were the car keys she held in her hand, and eight dollars and thirty-four cents—change from lunch, which she’d shoved into the pocket of her cotton slacks.
The moment replayed in her mind like a scene from a horror film, tightening the vise of fear around her chest. She lowered her head into her hands, fighting to keep the rising panic at bay.