going to go find a nonsexy, undangerous guy to fall for. She glared at Garrick, wishing she were physically strong enough to drag him to the door and throw him out. He was—
“My girlfriend?” Garrick’s voice was nearly a yelp. “She’s my daughter.”
They stared at each other. Wynn had a feeling she looked as shocked as he did. On the heels of that revelation came the admission that she really had to start thinking before she spoke and maybe not be so hasty about assuming the worst.
“Oh,” she managed to say, just as the timer dinged.
She busied herself removing the cookie sheets from the oven and setting them on the stove, then turned off the oven. She put down the hot pads, then drew in a breath and looked at Garrick.
“We should probably start over,” she murmured.
“You thought I had a pregnant, twenty-one-year-old girlfriend? Wouldn’t that make me a jerk?”
While she wanted to say that it would, she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “I’ll admit to some disappointment,” she said instead.
“I would hope so. I’m thirty-eight. I don’t want to date someone in their twenties. What would we talk about?”
“Some guys aren’t interested in conversation.”
“That’s not me.”
They stared at each other. Despite her embarrassment and a sizable dose of chagrin, she found herself noticing that he had really attractive eyes. Not just the unusual gray coloring but the shape. They suited his face and, well, the rest of him. Without wanting to, she remembered the interesting scars on his torso. Not that she’d been looking—he was the one who had chosen to mow his lawn shirtless the previous summer.
She had no idea where the scars had come from. If she had to guess, she would say he’d been in more than one knife fight, but that wasn’t possible. The man was a police officer in Happily Inc. Guys who did that didn’t fight with knives.
She put the rest of the cookies onto cooling racks, poured two glasses of milk, took the stool on the other end of the island and then reached for a cookie.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Wynn Beauchene, your neighbor. We don’t usually say much more than hi and talk about the weather.”
Garrick smiled. “Hey, Wynn. I’m Garrick McCabe. I grew up here in Happily Inc and had my daughter when I was seventeen. I moved to Phoenix when I started college, mostly because Joylyn and her mom were there. I got on the Phoenix police force. When Joylyn went off to college a few years back, I returned to Happily Inc. Last year I bought the house next door.”
“We all appreciate having your patrol car parked in the driveway.”
“I’m glad.” He grabbed another cookie. “My adult daughter is married to a deployed Marine. Her mom has three boys at home, and it’s getting to be a bit much for Joylyn, who’s due in about eight weeks, so right around Christmas. Alisha, Joylyn’s mother, thought it would be a good idea for Joylyn to stay with me until Christmas or until Chandler, Joylyn’s husband, comes home, whichever happens first.”
“I’m glad she’s going to be with family during the holidays.”
“Me, too.” The smile faded. “Joylyn and I went through a rough patch when she was about fifteen. We used to be close, and then one day she didn’t want her dad around. I’m hoping to use her time with me to reconnect.” One shoulder rose and lowered. “To that end, I want the house to be comfortable for her.”
“Cozy?” she asked, her voice teasing.
His smile returned, which made her unexpectedly happy. “That would be it. I don’t know anything about decorating or, you know, plants, and I don’t cook. Her being pregnant adds stakes to the game for sure. That’s why I want your help. I’ve seen your graphic work around town, and it’s always exactly right for whatever business it is. The colors, the tone, all of it. You’re a real professional. You have excellent taste and style, and I was hoping to get your advice about what I should have around.” He waved his hand. “Maybe some more dishes and throw pillows and stuff.”
That was a lot of information to process, she thought, slightly off-balance from the unexpected compliment. She always worked hard to please her clients, and she was happy to know her work was appreciated, but it was strange to consider that Garrick would look at a sign in a window and think of her. Did he think of her in other ways