The Bachelor's Baby Dilemma. Sheri WhiteFeather

      “Not according to tradition. In the old Cheyenne way, being an uncle is the same as being a father, and it’s especially important if the dad is unavailable. In the early days, the word for father and uncle was one and the same. Tshe-hestovestse.”

      She flashed another of her sweet smiles. “That’s nice. I like that.”

      Tanner didn’t. To him, it just intensified his role in his niece’s life. “I bought a bunch of baby books.”

      She moved a little closer. “You did?”

      “Yes, but I haven’t read them yet. Still, I figured it would help to know the stages and what to expect. It wouldn’t be fair to Ivy to leave everything to the nanny. I don’t want my niece to think I’m treating her like a leper. Babies can probably sense that kind of stuff.”

      “I’m sure they can.” She was looking at him as if he’d just bewitched her.

      Teasing her, he replied, “Is this how women are going to react to me now? Am I going to become a major chick magnet because I have a baby?”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “You’re acting all dreamy over me, Candy.”

      “I am not.” She got downright indignant, squaring her shoulders and jutting out her pretty little chin. “I’m just standing here.”

      “Making goo-goo eyes at me.”

      “You’re full of baloney.”

      He shrugged, then laughed. “I was just kidding around.” It was his twisted way of cracking a joke, of making light of the chemistry that still existed between them.

      She made a face at him. “You always did have a rotten sense of humor.”

      “At least I haven’t lost that side of myself. With everything that’s going on, I could be crying in my beer.”

      “Are you kidding? You practically are.”

      Touché, he thought. She’d got him there. He rolled his eyes, and they both managed a genuine laugh.

      He returned his attention to the pastel-colored walls, going back to where the conversation first started. “I don’t know anything about decorating a nursery.” He didn’t have a clue about that sort of thing. “When the time comes, I’ll have to get someone to help me pick out the furniture, just to be sure I don’t screw it up.”

      “Maybe you can order a complete set, with everything already going together.”

      “That should work.”

      “It will, Tanner. It’ll all work out.”

      “Thanks.” He appreciated that she was offering positive affirmations. He needed as many good vibes as he could get. Then he took a second look at her and said, “You seem like you should’ve had kids. With you knowing so much about them.”

      She cleared her throat. “I spend a lot of time with Eric and Dana’s son.”

      That made sense, of course. But she still seemed as if she should’ve had some of her own. He wondered why she hadn’t, but he decided not to push the issue or pry into her personal affairs.

      Next up was the master bedroom, and as soon as Candy led him to the place where she slept each night, being in the proximity of her silk-draped bed hit him square in the chest.

      But why wouldn’t it? Not only had they never been together in that way, he hadn’t even been allowed in her room when they were kids. Her mom had been superstrict about that. But her mom wasn’t part of the equation anymore. Candy and Tanner were adults now.

      When their gazes locked, she began fussing with her clothes, resorting to her nervous habit. Clearly, she was feeling the heat, too.

      He tried to think of something to say that would ease the tension. But nothing came to mind.

      She started a choppy conversation instead, prattling on about the room: the walk-in closet, the built-in window seat, the French door leading to the backyard.

      “It produces a nice breeze,” she hastily said.

      “And a beautiful view,” he replied, trying to glance past her and failing. Candy was the beautiful view he was talking about. He admired the way she looked, surrounded by the feminine trappings of her room. A candle was burning in here, too, like in the kitchen. Only it was something floral, a light, fluttery scent mimicking the flowers she grew in her garden. He didn’t know one bee-kissed posy from another, but he remembered giving her a corsage when he’d taken her to his junior prom. But mostly what he remembered was the sweetly sinful dress she’d worn. Red, like the color of fire.

      “Where do you live?” she asked suddenly.

      Her question threw him off-kilter. “What?”

      “You never mentioned where you live now or why you can’t have the nanny and Ivy move in with you there, at least until Meagan comes home.”

      He snapped back to reality. “I live at the stables in a bachelor-type pad above my office. I’m going to keep it for when I need a quiet place to be alone.” He quickly added, “Or to date or whatever.”

      “That would be better, I suppose.”

      “For me, it is.” Curious about her future, he asked, “Are you planning on buying another house?”

      She shook her head. “I wasn’t going to mention this, but there’s no point in hiding it. I could never afford another house. After my divorce, I bought this place with a small inheritance from my grandparents, but I got in over my head.” She made a tight face. “I’m starting to fall behind on the payments on my first mortgage, and I owe a balloon payment on my second and don’t have the money for that, either.”

      “I’m sorry.” He could see how distressing it was for her. It also explained why her ex wasn’t involved. She hadn’t owned the house with him.

      “I’m down to a part-time job now. Enrollment is low at the studio where I work and some of my classes had to be cut. I’ve been looking for another part-time job to make up the difference, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said again.

      “I’ll get through it. Eric and Dana offered to let me stay with them after this place sells so I can take a little time to get on my feet and not burn through the money. Not that it will be that much. I messed up my equity by taking out that second loan.”

      “How close are you to foreclosure?”

      “The bank hasn’t started the proceeding yet, so there’s still time. But it concerns me.” She swallowed, as if a lump had formed in her throat. “I never imagined being this broke.”

      “I understand. I’ve been through some tough times, too. My mom loaned me the money for the down payment on my stables, and she took a huge risk on me. It was a run-down facility, and building it into a successful operation didn’t happen overnight. It was touch-and-go there for a while. I was really worried that I was going to lose everything, including her investment in it.”

      “What’s it like now?”

      “It’s everything I envisioned it should be. We offer full-service boarding, riding lessons and trails to Griffith Park. The public can rent horses from us, of course, and go on guided tours of the trails, but we also provide rentals for the movie industry. It’s like the stables I worked at when I was a kid, except way nicer. We cater to both English and Western riders. We host equestrian events, too.”

      “It sounds wonderful. I’m glad for you, Tanner.”

      “Thanks. I hope things improve for you.”

      “For now, I just need to sell my house.”

      Deciding to be direct, he said, “I like this place. It has