She looked gorgeous. Phil had almost swallowed his tongue. The jeans were obviously newer, and the mint-green sweater probably hand-knit. It clung to her soft curves in all the right places. Glenna had enough curves for a man’s hands to hold the way they were meant to.
He had to admit it: his hands did burn to do just that.
Phil was going to have to keep himself in check. He couldn’t go around lusting after his housekeeper.
It was obvious she was gun-shy where men were concerned.
That had been behind part of his invitation today. He’d wanted her to see that not all men were threats. He suspected that was a lesson this woman needed to learn.
She had that look in her eyes that said someone somewhere had hurt her before. A soul-wrenching, bone-deep kind of hurt, that only time and love could truly come close to healing.
He’d seen it before. In his daughter Pip’s eyes, after that bastard Jay Gunderson had attacked her when she’d been all of nineteen.
He hated seeing it in Glenna’s eyes now.
He was going to do his damnedest to make certain that look never ended up in her daughters’ eyes.
Not on his watch.
“How far of a drive is it?” she asked quietly. Nervously. She wouldn’t admit it, but the snow—and driving in it—bothered her quite a bit. It would take time for her to get used to it. In the meantime, he’d just drive her wherever she needed to go.
Phil rather liked taking care of Glenna when he could.
“A few more miles. There’re only about three miles between Michael’s place and mine. We are using a private service road here. It’s listed as East Tyler Road on the maps. The boys keep the roads clear using our tractors and such. We’ll just go slow, and we’ll be just fine.” He reached out and patted her hand, then checked the rearview. All seven kids were fine, though two were gearing up to go at it. “Girls, no fighting in the car, ok?”
“I’m sorry.” She immediately turned. He squeezed her hand again, stopping her.
“It’s ok. Brings back memories. The twins were always pestering Pandora. Then Phoebe would get involved. She always had to protect the underdog. Then they’d gang up on the boys. I kind of miss the chaos of having them all home. The girls have only been married around two and a half years. Some less than that.”
“But Ivy…”
“Ivy’s adopted, honey. She came to us when she was two. Her parents have been married the shortest amount of time. A little over two years.” Phil kept his voice down, conscious of the little ears behind them. He did a quick check in the mirror—they were under control, with Pete keeping them in check.
He really was a good kid, his second son. Phil was damned proud of all his kids.
“I didn’t know that.”
“She came into the emergency department when Perci was working one night. Ivy ended up going home with Nate as his foster daughter. Perci went with her—the two of them basically never left. Ivy’s ours now. The adoption was final a year and a half ago.”
“That’s wonderful. That she was able to find a family that quickly.”
Phil nodded. “It was meant to be. Ivy’s a Tyler now. Well, Masterson, but we’ll ignore that part.”
She laughed. He loved to make her laugh. It sounded so sweet. And always seemed to surprise her a little. “You like all your sons-in-law.”
“I do. I can’t think of four men better suited to my girls. I want my girls happy and loved. And I got that now.”