Building the Perfect Daddy

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Building the Perfect Daddy Page 23

by Brenda Harlen


  “You’re a wise man, Sheriff Bailey.”

  Will giggled. “Where’s your gold and Frankenstein?”

  Marshall blinked, obviously as baffled as she was, which only made Will giggle more.

  “Like in the Baby Jesus story, you know. The wise men brought the gold, Frankenstein and mirth.”

  She did her best to hide a smile. This year Will had become fascinated with the small carved Nativity set she bought at a thrift store the first year she moved out of her grandfather’s cheerless house.

  “Oh. Frankincense and myrrh. They were perfumes and oils, I think. When I said Sheriff Bailey was a wise man, I just meant he was smart.”

  She was a little biased, yes, but she couldn’t believe even the most hardened of hearts wouldn’t find her son adorable. The sheriff only studied them both with that dour expression.

  He was in pain, she reminded herself. If she were in his position, she wouldn’t find a four-year-old’s chatter amusing, either.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” she said again. “Call me, even if it’s the middle of the night.”

  “I will,” he said, which she knew was a blatant fib. He would never call her.

  She had done all she could, short of moving into his house—kids, pets and all.

  She gathered the children part of that equation and ushered them out of the house. Darkness came early this close to the winter solstice, but the Jacobs family’s Christmas lights next door gleamed through the snow.

  In the short time she’d been inside his house, Andie had forgotten most of her nervousness around Marshall. Perhaps it was his injury that made him feel a little less threatening to her—though she had a feeling that even if he’d suffered two broken legs in that accident, the sheriff of Lake Haven County would never be anything less than dangerous.

  Copyright © 2016 by RaeAnne Thayne

  ISBN-13: 9781488002731

  Building the Perfect Daddy

  Copyright © 2016 by Brenda Harlen

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  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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