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Her Brooding Scottish Heir

Page 18

by Ella Hayes


  Seth might have lived poor for a few years while he finished school, but he had no concept of genuine, lifelong struggle. And Harper wouldn’t let him think less of Clark because he’d lost what he and Seth had built.

  After a few seconds, Seth sighed. “And you sold your condo because that was mortgaged, too?”

  “I didn’t realize until after Clark died that we’d spent every penny he’d earned.” She gave him time to digest that, then added, “He really liked you. He liked the life you brought him into. I know why he overextended us financially. And I’m not sorry he lived the way he wanted to while he had a chance. I’m not asking for anything except some help figuring my way out of this. Some advice.”

  “Even if you rent, you’re going to need more than a week to find a place.”

  “I know.”

  Three-month-old Crystal stretched. Her head rose above the bundle of blankets she’d been snuggled into, revealing a tiny pixie face and a head full of short, shaggy black hair. Realizing the baby was waking from the stroller-induced nap, Harper slid the diaper bag out of the bin behind the seat. “I’m going to have to warm a bottle.”

  Seth looked at Crystal. “Is she waking up?”

  “Yes. She won’t fuss if I have a bottle ready.”

  He rose, as if confused. “Okay.”

  “Just let me warm the bottle and I’ll be all set.”

  She took the diaper bag into the kitchen and removed a bottle. As she opened the cupboard door to get something to hold enough water to warm it, she watched Seth peer into the stroller from about six feet away.

  “You can actually get close enough to look at her.”

  Seth grimaced. “Not on your life. I have a niece a few months older than she is and I’ve never even held her.”

  Harper clicked her tongue. “Seth! Babies are wonderful.”

  “They look like they are. And my brother absolutely adores his. But they’re small and fragile and they frequently leak bodily fluids. I’m keeping my distance.”

  She nodded, grateful for the small reprieve in talking about the mess she’d gotten herself into. She filled a mug with hot water and slid the bottle inside. Knowing it would take a few minutes to warm the formula that way, she walked back into the living room.

  Seth said, “She’s pretty. Looks a lot like my niece. Dark hair. Pale eyes.”

  “Sounds like your brother.”

  He laughed. “He has a talent for getting his own way about things.” But Seth’s laughter quickly died. His solemn dark eyes met hers. “You do realize how much trouble you’re in.”

  “And you’re about to tell me the only answer is to go back to my parents.” She shook her head. “That has to be my last resort. My mother was abysmal to Clark until he started that business with you. Then she was constantly on his back to be more, to push for more, to have more. If I go home now and tell her that I not only sold the investment firm, I sold the condo to get out from under loans, she’ll lose all respect for him.”

  * * *

  Seth silently studied Harper. Still beautiful. Still tempting. And in so much trouble financially he wasn’t even sure how to counsel her.

  He spent his days haggling with contractors, hammering out contracts with some of the savviest businessmen in the world and fighting to make sure McCallan, Inc. stayed at the top of its industry. Yet he had absolutely no idea what to say to one little woman.

  If she were anybody else, he’d easily tell her, “Suck it up, Buttercup. You’ve got no option but to move back in with your parents.”

  Except, she wasn’t staying away from them for herself. She was holding back, probably waiting until she had herself on solid ground, before she had to tell her parents her husband had put her into debt. She was protecting Clark.

  How could someone who’d fought his own condescending father most of his life not respect that?

  The baby stirred again. Harper went to the kitchen and got the bottle.

  Just as the little girl began to fuss, Harper was back, bottle in hand, lifting Crystal, settling her on her lap and feeding her.

  It all seemed to simple, so easy. He’d seen his sister-in-law, Avery, do something similar. But Avery had tons of help. Not just Seth and Jake’s mom, but Avery’s mom, her dad and a nanny. He’d always thought Avery made being a mom look easy, but he’d apparently missed a lot about parenting in his years of avoiding babies.

  “So, I’m kinda broke, but not really,” Harper said, feeding the hungry baby. “With the sale of the condo I have a hundred thousand dollars to play with. Either to use for a down payment on a new condo or to live on until I find a job.”

  He sat back down, feeling oddly foolish for being so persnickety about kids as he watched Harper’s baby happily suckle her milk. “Honestly, if you weren’t out on the street in six days, I’d say your first order of business should be to get a job.”

  “But I am out on the street in six days. In that time, I have to pack and arrange for a mover, as I find somewhere else to live. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra room?”

  She’d said it as a joke, but he did have an extra room. She’d even have a private bathroom. There were only two problems with taking her in. First, he really wasn’t comfortable around babies. Very few single men were. But he was super edgy around them. Preoccupied with a million little details for his job, he worried he’d step on Crystal, trip over her, knock her down.

  But he knew that was just a cover for the real reason he didn’t want Harper Sloan Hargraves to move in with him.

  She was supposed to be his.

  He’d adored her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. But he wasn’t the settling-down kind. His parents’ farce of a marriage had ruined him on the fairy tale of happily-ever-after. The emotional abuse he’d suffered from his manipulative dad had made him far too cynical and too careful to want a relationship.

  So, he’d let Clark ask her out.

  And he’d become a playboy. He’d dated so many women he’d lost count. He traveled, was a regular in Las Vegas and couldn’t remember the last Saturday night he’d spent alone.

  “I was kidding about the room, Seth. You can talk again.”

  He shook his head. This wasn’t about him. It really wasn’t even about Harper. It was about Clark. He’d been Seth’s best friend in every sense of the word. When he left his family home and his emotionally abusive father, Clark had found him in the library. Alone. Broke. And rich-kid stupid. Seth didn’t even know he couldn’t hide in the library stacks, wait for the lights to go out and spend the night. He didn’t notice things like cameras and security guards.

  Clark had asked a few pointed questions, gotten the real scoop and taken him to the run-down apartment he shared with Ziggy, next door to Harper. He’d told him he could stay until he got on his feet, but for three kids going to university, fighting for money for books and tuition, there was no getting on any feet. He’d found a job as a waiter, shared a room with twin beds with Ziggy and paid his part of the rent and food.

  All his life, his dad had told him he didn’t understand the real world and tried to teach him by withholding money, embarrassing him, belittling him, and Clark had taught him everything his dad couldn’t in three years of paying for school and supporting himself.

  Now here he was with an extra room, about to turn Clark’s widow out on the street because he’d at one time had a crush on her?

  That was ridiculous. He was a grown man now. A wealthy man in his own right who’d built exactly the life he wanted. He had his pick of woman and absolutely no desire to settle down.

  She was safe...and so was he.

  “You can have the room.”

  “What?”

  He rose from the trellis-print chair. “You can have my spare room. Arrange to have your furniture put into storage. Have Crystal’s crib delivered here.” And just as Clark had said t
o him twelve years ago, he added, “You can stay as long as you need to.”

  Copyright © 2018 by Linda Susan Meier

  ISBN-13: 9781488043550

  Her Brooding Scottish Heir

  First North American publication 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Ella Hayes

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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