The Bachelor Boss
From Businessman To Family Man
Widowed mother Hannah St. James didn’t expect to meet her next employer by crashing into his new Mercedes. But she’s in no financial shape to pass up the position that workaholic businessman Tyler Matthews offers: live-in caregiver to his grandmother. Hannah adores caring for feisty Lily, and her son’s new room is every boy’s dream. But her handsome boss hides his guarded heart behind ledgers and meetings. Underneath Tyler’s tycoon exterior is a tender side that stirs her heart and hopes again. It’ll take Hannah, an adorable little boy and one determined elderly woman to show him that family always provides the best care.
“You’re not very optimistic about this,” Hannah said. “You think I can’t handle it.”
“Let’s just say that some highly experienced caregivers have resigned,” Ty said.
“I’ll make it work.” She wrapped both hands around the coffee mug and stared into its depths.
I have to!
Her son providentially entered the kitchen at that moment. “Mr. Matthews’s grandmother said that I could have hot chocolate. Is that right?”
“Sure.” Ty got up. “I’ll show you where things are and you can make it yourself from now on.”
“Cool.” Danny followed Ty from the refrigerator to the silverware drawer to the cupboard like a shadow.
He hadn’t been around many men. Hannah hadn’t really dated anyone since her husband died. Watching her little boy glue himself to
Ty Matthews, she realized how much Danny must have missed father-son contact.
“Cute kid,” Ty whispered. “He’ll probably do a lot to improve my grandmother’s mood. She really is partial to little boys. I was just as adorable as a kid.”
She observed his blue eyes twinkle. In her book, he was still pretty adorable.
Books by Judy Baer
Love Inspired
Be My Neat-Heart
Mirror, Mirror
Sleeping Beauty
The Cinderella List
Mending Her Heart
The Bachelor Boss
Steeple Hill Single Title
The Whitney Chronicles
Million Dollar Dilemma
Norah’s Ark
JUDY BAER
Angel Award–winning author and two-time RITA® Award finalist Judy Baer has written more than seventy books in the past twenty years. A native of North Dakota and graduate of Concordia College in Minnesota, she currently lives near Minneapolis. In addition to writing, Judy works as a personal life coach and writing coach. Judy speaks in churches, libraries, women’s groups and at writers’ conferences across the country. She enjoys time with her husband, two daughters, three stepchildren and the growing number of spouses, pets and babies they bring home. Judy, who once raised buffalo, now owns horses. She recently completed her master’s degree and accepted a position as adjunct faculty at St. Mary’s University, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Readers are invited to visit her website at www.judykbaer.com.
Judy Baer
The Bachelor Boss
Honor your father and your mother,
so that your days may be long in the land
that the Lord is giving you.
—Exodus 20:12
This was written in honor of my parents and all the wise and wonderful older people I’ve had in my life.
Contents
Chapter One
W
hite-knuckled with anxiety, Hannah St. James pulled her car into the parking lot of the Marshall medical complex. She wasn’t the kind to beg, but she would if she had to. She’d never needed a job as badly as she did now, and she’d do whatever it took to get one.
Her mind still on losing her job at Family Affairs, a caregiving service for the elderly, she didn’t even see the Mercedes until their fenders met.
Hazel eyes wide, she slipped out of her old Kia just as an attractive, dark-haired man emerged from the obscenely shiny Mercedes and strode toward her. His broad shoulders were rigid and his handsome jaw set. Anger fairly oozed off of him.
“You drove right into me,” he said in astonishment. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and no doubt shooting darts.
He was an undeniably good-looking man. His finely chiseled features reminded her of her late husband, Steve. She guessed he was about her own age—in his early thirties. She fleetingly wished that she’d met him under different, more friendly, circumstances.
She forced that thought to the back of her mind. “I was distracted. I’m sorry.” She stared at the fenders of the two cars. The Mercedes had a ding, without a doubt, but the front of her little car looked as if it had been through a trash masher. “I have insurance.”
She didn’t add that it was liability insurance, which would pay for the Mercedes but not for her old clunker. Now, at least, the hail damage it had suffered would not be so noticeable. All eyes would be fixed on her fender.
“This car is six weeks old,” the man muttered. “Six weeks!” He took off his glasses to reveal blue eyes with long, dark lashes.
“Mine is eight years,” Hannah said absently as she pulled at one of her red curls. He probably had other cars he could use while his was in the shop. She’d be taking the bus, if she had anywhere to go now that she was unemployed.
Unemployed
. She groaned inwardly. It would certainly be a mess getting to job interviews without a car.
“Ty, dear, is everything okay?” The car’s passenger-side window opened and a white-haired woman with piercing blue eyes peered out.
“It’s okay, Gram. We’ll take care of it.”
Hannah stared in horror at the old woman. She looked fragile. What if she’d been hurt? Hannah raced to the woman’s window before she could close it.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay? How does your neck feel?” All Hannah’s geriatric nursing skills flooded to the surface. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“Mercy no, dear. I’m fine. Besides, I’m here to see my doctor.” The wizened woman gestured toward the medical building. “He can look at me. I’m sure he’ll say all is well. Thank you for being so concerned.”
“Well, she did hit our car,” the man pointed out tersely, less forgiving than the old woman. His blue eyes were just like his grandmother’s, Hannah noted. Only he had unbelievably long, dark lashes. Very nice. Actually, more than nice. She surprised herself. It had been a long time since she’d noticed much of anything about the opposite sex.
“But see how remorseful she is.”
“Insurance companies don’t care about remorse, Grams.”
Hannah dug a piece of paper and pen from her pocket and began to scribble. “Here is my email address and the name of my insurance company.”
He took it without reading it and stuffed it in his pocket. With a sigh, he pulled a business card from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Hannah.
TDM Imports and Exports
.
“My insurance agent will be in touch,” she ventured.
“He’d better be.”
Hannah winced. She watched him get into the car, pull forward and park in the handicapped space nearest the door. He then lovingly extracted the tiny white-haired woman from the front seat and lifted her in his arms as a nurse from the clinic appeared with a wheelchair. Gently, he placed the old woman in the chair and they moved away.
“Be still my heart,” Hannah murmured as unexpected emotions rushed through her. It wasn’t because he was good-looking, though he was, or that he was tall and athletically built, a fact revealed when he shrugged out of his winter coat as he followed his grandmother’s wheelchair into the building. It wasn’t because his dark brown hair was the kind of hair a woman could happily run her fingers through. What made Hannah’s heart go pitty-pat was the sight of a man so concerned and gentle with an elderly woman. For a geriatric nurse like Hannah, it was a joy to see.
Then the enormity of her own problems returned and her thoughts focused on more pressing issues. She’d lost her job through no fault of her own. She was behind on her bills and had no money left in savings. After this accident, her car insurance would probably go up. She’d have to find a way to repair her battered car. And her younger sister Trisha’s tuition for summer school would be due before she knew it. The girl had been going to school year round in order to finish quickly. After today, there was no way Trisha could finish soon enough for Hannah.
She got back into her car, crossed her arms over the steering wheel, rested her head on her forearms and allowed the hot tears she’d been holding back to fall. Hannah allowed herself only a few moments of self-pity, however, before she wiped away her running mascara and got back out of her car. She’d have to worry about this later. Right now, she had bigger fish to fry.
When God closes a door He opens a window.
A window will open, a window will open...
she told herself as she raced up the stairs to Dr. Phillip Harvey’s office.
An internist physician who specialized in geriatrics, Doc Harvey had been a close friend of her parents and, later, of hers. The office, with its commercial-grade brown carpeting, beige walls and wildlife prints, was familiar. Little had changed since she’d worked here as a receptionist while she was in nursing school and subbed as an occasional caregiver for his aging father. He’d been very supportive when her parents died and told her more than once since that if she ever needed anything, she should call him. Hannah had never taken him up on his offer until now.
She took a chair in the waiting room, still panting a little from her shortcut up the stairs, and tried to calm her red curls by running her fingers through them. As she did so, the reception room door opened and the tall, attractive man from the Mercedes and the elderly woman in the wheelchair entered. The old woman fixed her eyes on each of Dr. Harvey’s patients in turn, seeming to x-ray them with her clear blue gaze. This woman might be elderly, Hannah thought, but she had all her wits about her. Energy and intelligence fairly radiated from her.