Page 9 of Longing for the Ranger

“Easy,” he murmurs, his rough hands coming to steady me as he helps me up. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I heave a sigh. “Just a bruised ego.”

“What is going on here?”

“I was just about to find out. The boys were being too quiet and when I came up here to check on them, I heard splashing from the playroom. In my rush to get to them, I didn’t see the water on the floor and slipped.”

I lead the way to the playroom, which has been suspiciously quiet, groaning in dismay at what we discover. The boys have emptied the large plastic tote which held their toys and filled it with water. I assume they made the mess in the hall from carrying the water back and forth. There are several plastic toys floating in the water. The boys refuse to make eye contact, holding their fishing poles behind their backs as if that will hide them.

“What on earth do you two think you are doing?”

“We wanted to practice fishing.” Luke pouts.

Shawn chuckles beside me.

The buzzing of the oven timer comes from the kitchen, pulling another groan from me.

“Go. I’ll help the boys clean up their mess.” He tips his head towards the door.

“I’ll be right back to take care of this.” I call over my shoulder as I scurry to the stairs.

“Don’t worry, just don’t let whatever smells so amazing burn and I’ll be happy.” He yells after me.

I manage to pull the garlic bread out just before it’s beyond the point of no return. Leaning on the counter, head hanging down, I blow out a breath of relief and take a moment to gather my whits. I should’ve known tonight would not go smoothly.

I’m stunned Shawn didn’t take one look at the mess that is my life and immediately walk right back out the door. Instead, he’s upstairs cleaning. Speaking of, I better get back up there. Sighing, I trudge back up the stairs.

Astonishment fills me as I reach the top. The water in the hall is cleaned up already. In the playroom the tub of water has been emptied and dried, and once again holds the pile of toys which had been scattered on the floor. The boys are using towels to wipe up the last remaining water on the floor. Thankfully, there is no carpet up here or else it would’ve been even worse.

“What do you boys say to your mom?” Shawn’s question draws my attention to where he is on his hands and knees across the room, sopping up the water there with several towels.

“Sorry. We won’t do that again.” The boys answer in tandem, still refusing eye contact.

My eyebrows shoot up in bewilderment. You could knock me over with a feather at this point. Normally it would’ve taken me forever to clean this up and apologies never come this easily from these two.

“Well, I would appreciate that. Thank you for cleaning it up, though. Next time ask. I would’ve helped you set something up in the backyard.”

“Or have her call me and I'll help you, okay? Now let your mom check to make sure you got it all. Get your towels and you can show me where the washing machine is so we can get them clean.”

There’s no missing the look of adoration the boys give Shawn as they jump to do his bidding. My jaw hangs slack as I look on in amazement. Shawn winks at me as they file out of the room, arms full of towels.

There is no mistaking how attractive the man is on looks alone but how he handled this mess and the boys has me thinking things I shouldn’t. Specifically, I’m ready to roll over and spread my legs so he can put a baby in me, because damn if the man doesn’t have the daddy roll down pat. It makes him even sexier, if that were possible and has my ovaries aching. My breath catches at the thought of his massive hands gently cradling a baby.

Shaking my head, I finally pull myself out of the stupor I’m in and check for wet spots. I must be losing my mind because the last thing I need is another child, especially a baby. Finding everything dry and clean, I head down to the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready.

Striding into the kitchen, the rhythmic sound of the washing machine comes from the nearby laundry room. Movement out the window over the sink catches my eye. Upon closer inspection, I stop in my tracks at the view of Shawn and the boys throwing a ball for Missy in the backyard.

It’s surreal how this man has stepped into our family as if he’s been here all along. Tears threaten from the overwhelming warring feelings I have for him. He fits perfectly, but it also reminds me of how much we miss David and for all that he is missing out on. There is also guilt for the attraction to Shawn. I know David wouldn’t want me to be alone, but moving on isn’t as easy as it seems. There’s also the lingering fear of history repeating its self.

Blowing out a cleansing breath, I open the cupboard and take out plates to set the table. The tears finally break free when there on the table I find flowers and two small tackle boxes. My defenses against this man are rapidly waning. Hope filling in the cracks in my heart that maybe he can help glue it back together again.

Chapter Eight

Shawn

The squeals and laughter of the boys as they play with Missy have a grin splitting my face. These two are quite the handful, but are they ever a kick in the pants. It was all I could do to contain my laughter at their fishing practice.

Poor Izzy’s exasperation was palpable. To her credit, she didn’t lose her shit with the kids like many parents would. Though this seems to be their typical behavior so she is used to their antics.

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