Page 13 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘I don’t know if he does. I only got him yesterday.’ Ash gave a meek shrug.

‘How are you coping?’

Ash didn’t say a word. But he had dark rings under his eyes, was unshaven, in a wrinkled shirt that had some odd-looking stains on it. But what tugged at her normally stony heart was when the handsome man’s dark brown eyes revealed a deep level of worry.

‘Are you looking for a miracle cure in the supermarket, like me?’ She held up her packets of shortbread.

‘And a nanny.’

‘Sorry? Can you just pluck one off the shelf?’ With arms like Ash’s, he could pick up the entire shelf, even with a toddler on one arm. Since when was a man holding a baby sexy?

‘I wish.’ His smile revealed a dimple on one cheek, making her smile with him. Not fair.

‘Hey, did you get your car tyre fixed?’

‘I pick it up today. They had to get one in from somewhere else. Apparently they don’t keep tyres like mine out here.’

‘All four-wheel drives around here.’

‘So, I found out.’ She gave a soft smile to little Mason, who’d finished his biscuit, eagerly holding his hand out for more. ‘Well, don’t you have good taste, little man?’ She broke off another piece and handed it to the boy, who looked like his father. ‘Have you got something for your son to drink? Shortbread can be rather dry on the throat.’

‘Um, I think so? In one of these pockets, somewhere?’ Ash spun around. The bulky baby bag he wore on his shoulder knocked over some canned peaches that spilled across the floor.

‘Stop.’ Harper held him in place. His arm was nothing but solid muscle. Not too big, not too small, and just perfect. But this was not the time to drool. ‘I see it.’ She removed the small water bottle from the bag’s side pocket. ‘Can I hold him?’

She’d never dared such a thing, but Ash looked like he needed help.

‘Sure. Knock yourself out.’ Ash passed the boy over, then bent to scoop up the assorted tins he’d knocked over.

The boy was so soft and squishy, instantly dampening that empty ache of loneliness as she held him to her chest. He smelled so good—citrusy sweetness and fresh soap.

‘Mason, this is shortbread.’ She held up the treat to the boy who fit perfectly on her hip. ‘It’s the food of the gods that will cure tummy upsets, bad hair days, and break-ups. If I give you another piece, this will make us friends.’

The boy was positively drooling, his brown eyes wide and focused on that piece of shortbread. The biscuit never looked like much, but the flavour was buttery heaven on the tongue. It was the taste of home.

‘You and the boy get along.’

She ignored the father. Even if he was gorgeous, her focus was on Mason. ‘Why are you looking for a nanny?’

‘My three brothers and I are bachelors, and having a baby with us … We’re not sure about keeping him, or looking after him, you know?’

She narrowed her eyes at Ash, as a heated protective wave washed over her. She held the child closer to her chest. Was Mason safe with his father?

Eight

Harper glared at Ash like he was some axe murderer.

‘Stop looking at me like that.’ Ash snapped at her. ‘I wouldn’t hurt Mason, or any child.’ He wasn’t an animal. ‘Look, my older brothers do know what to do when it comes to taking care of a kid.’ They knew more than Ash did, anyway. But he would never hurt a child, not the way Harper accused him with that glare. ‘They just don’t want to because we’re busy working on the station.’ He had a life.

‘I see.’ Harper sighed as if she’d been holding her breath, even relaxing her protective grip on the child.

Whoa. She was protecting the child!

Ash tilted his head at Harper, as she shared a sweet smile with the boy, which lit up her eyes.

But the boy’s giggle did something to Ash. It made him lean against the shelf and listen, getting all warm in the chest. Or was it the pretty woman with skin as pale as Mason’s? ‘Mason likes you.’

‘I like Mason.’

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