Hank knew the first thing he’d do—he’d march right up to that salon, fling Becca over his shoulder, and take her upstairs to her pretty, girly bedroom. He’d toss her down on the bed, strip her clothing off in that way that made her eyes light up, and kiss every inch of her for hours and hours. Then he’d drag her into the nearest church—or the justice of the peace; he wasn’t picky—and make her his. He’d stake his claim on her so no one else would ever think they’d have a shot. And he’d make a family with her.

But . . . that was the problem.

He already had a family—Libby. And he had to think about her. She hated school, and if he stayed in Painted Barrel, she’d have to go back. He loved his daughter. He’d do anything for her. If she hated school so much that she sobbed and bawled when he took her there, then she wouldn’t go to school. It was as simple as that.

Libby was everything to him, and he had a responsibility to her.

It didn’t matter what his heart wanted. He was a father, first and foremost.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Am I a bother?”

“Not at all,” Becca lied as Sage Cooper-Clements came in. The mayor had had her baby and then had promptly gotten pregnant again, a fact that everyone in town liked to tease her about and which made her blush constantly. Her belly was still in the early stages of showing, but her cheeks were rosy and rounded and she looked happy and healthy.

Becca was disgustingly envious of her.

The mayor held out a plate of cookies. “I wanted to bring these over for you. I heard you’re having a heck of a month.” Sage gave her a sympathetic look. “I know whenever I’m feeling awful, double chocolate chip always makes me feel better.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. Sage felt like it was her duty to ensure that everyone in town was happy, so it was no surprise that the mayor had stopped by to discuss Becca’s breakup. It was one of those things where it was just a matter of time. So Becca smiled—or tried to—and plucked one of the cookies off the plate. She could definitely use some chocolate therapy at the moment. “I appreciate it, Sage. How’s the baby?”

“This one or the one at home?” She patted her belly. “Both are great. Jason’s watching the little guy while I make my rounds here in town. Then I’ve got to head home and rescue him from poopy diapers.” She grinned. “This is not entirely a cookie mission, though.”

Becca paused mid-bite. “Oh?”