The Baby Twins Page 8

  "Let's see…" He stretched his legs out and rubbed his chest. "After downing a few fast-food burgers, I might play a little PS3 or devour the owner's manual of Boeing's 787 Dreamliner."

  Laughing, she said, "That's some serious entertainment."

  "Have you learned everything you should about the Rolls-Royce Trent 1000 engine?"

  Still grinning, she shook her head.

  "All right, then. Case closed." Locking his fingers behind his head, he closed his eyes and yawned. "I forgot to add that in my off-time, I'm a professional power napper."

  "Really? That's quite a feat. Mind giving me a few pointers?"

  "First," he said, rising from the sofa. "You'll need to stretch out—like this." Grasping her ankles, he playfully manhandled her into a reclining position.

  "Whoa!" she shrieked, caught off guard.

  "Next, you've gotta get something beneath your head. Like this." From the love seat, he took a throw pillow and stuffed it under her head. "Now, do away with those shoes." He yanked off her white canvas Keds sneakers, tossing them to the carpet. "Hmm," he said, glancing around the room, "you need just one more thing."

  "What?" she asked, rolling onto her side.

  "A blanket. Got one?"

  Grinning over his antics, she said, "Hall closet. Top shelf."

  "Too far for convenience," he grumbled, already headed that way. "You'll need a lot of training."

  A minute later he was back, tossing a faded old quilt over her, tucking it snug around her feet.

  "Mmm…that feels good. Thanks."

  "You're welcome. But we're not done yet."

  "Seems perfect to me." She closed her eyes and sighed. "What else could I need?"

  He planted a kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams. Now, you get some much-deserved rest and I'll forage for our dinner."

  Contentment didn't begin to describe Stephanie's mood. For the first time in what felt like decades, she was warm and safe and not alone. Too bad all of it was temporary. On the ride to the zoo, he'd made it clear that he was only in town for the day. He'd begged the use of her guest bed and an early-morning shuttle to the airport, but aside from that, his presence in her life was about as certain as the chaotic fall weather.

  "Brady?" she called out.

  "What's up?" He peeked from the kitchen.

  "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

  "That came from left field." Perched on the edge of the couch, absentmindedly rubbing her feet through the blanket, he seemed oblivious to the havoc he caused her seesawing emotions. Which only proved why she needed to know.

  "Not really," she said. "Put yourself in my shoes. Here's a great guy from my past, admittedly not looking for a relationship, yet here you are…The poster boy for domestic bliss. All I'm asking is why?"

  "I get what you're saying," he said, frowning with a fierce mask of concentration. "Trouble is—I honestly don't know."

  Chapter Nine

  "This is amazing," Stephanie said, swallowing a mouthful of Brady's ham-and-cheese omelet. In the thirty minutes she was supposed to have been napping, she'd dwelled on his answer—or, lack thereof. In the end, though it may not have been the touchy-feely admission she'd secretly hoped for, she admired his honesty. She'd needed it to bring reality back to her life. The two of them shared no great passion and never would. "I've always loved having breakfast for dinner."

  "Me, too." Brady speared a piece of egg with his fork. "When I was a kid, we used to have pancakes on Thursday nights. We'd take turns going around the table, talking about anything that interested us, or assigned topics like who most inspired us."

  "How fun." Helping herself to seconds on country potatoes, she asked, "Who was your biggest inspiration?"

  "Hands down, Amelia Earhart. I know she was a chick and all, but she fascinated me. Still does. I liked how she combined flying with adventure."

  "Not bad for a 'chick,'" Stephanie said with a chuckle. "Do you see your parents often?"

  He shrugged. "Depends."

  "On what?"

  His expression clouded.

  "Another touchy subject?"

  Sighing, he said, "More like complicated. Too much for this close to bedtime. Let's just say I see Mom and Dad about as much as I see Lola."

  "O-kay." Stephanie forced a deep breath. "Speaking of your little angel, did you ever have a talk?"

  He took a while to answer. "This kills me to admit, but when it comes to my kid…I'm clueless. Long story short, she admitted everything—calling you, being extra nice to me so I'd agree to date you. Wanting to make Clarissa jealous…The list goes on and on." He covered his face with his hands. "I confronted her with Clarissa and there was a big, ugly scene. I wanted Lola grounded from her phone and TV and friends for the rest of her life. Clarissa balked—protesting that I obviously didn't know the first thing about parenting."

  "Oh, Brady…" Her heart went out to him. The Clarissa she remembered had been reasonable. What changed? "I'm so sorry. Not that it helps, but the rest of Lola's life seems a bit extreme. Clarissa probably has more experience with this sort of thing. Is there anything I can do?"

  "Thanks for the offer, but I'm guessing the only thing that'll help is time. In retreating like I did from both Clarissa and Lola's daily lives, I screwed up—big-time. Sure, I might be back now, but they seem to resent it."

  "What about Lola's stepfather? What part does he play in all of this?"

  Expression hard, Brady said, "None."

  * * *

  STEPHANIE WAS USED TO getting up early, but four was a stretch even for her. From behind the wheel of her minivan, she covered a yawn.

  The girls were snug and sleeping in their car seats.

  Brady next to her, the space felt unbearably tight. As though there wasn't enough air. By this time, she felt as if she'd known him forever, and yet it had never been clearer that she didn't really know him at all. There was so much she still wanted—needed—to know before say ing goodbye. Goofy things like whether he preferred pulp in his orange juice, or what brand of soap he used that made him smell so irresistible. Then there were the important things. Like whether or not he'd ever be whole again.

  In losing his wife and daughter, she didn't blame him for being bitter, especially since he hadn't really lost them at all.

  "Need help turning the key?"

  She glanced his way then smiled shyly. Oh—she needed help, all right. "Thanks. But I'm good."

  After making the ten-minute drive in companion able silence, Stephanie pulled in front of the glorified shed serving as the town's airport. Lights glowed inside, so she assumed Brady wasn't the only one with an early-morning departure.

  "I feel funny just leaving you here." She put the car in Park.

  "Why?" Brady asked, unsure what to do with his hands. He hadn't felt this awkward since taking Kim Shelton to senior prom.

  "Never mind. It's stupid."

  "Try me," he said, removing his seat belt so that he could angle to face her. As usual, her hair was a crazy nest of corkscrews. In the glow from the parking lot lights, her face looked angelic. Something about her was infinitely approachable. As if he could tell her anything.

  "Well…" She licked her lips, adding a gloss to them that inexplicably tightened his groin. "I was just worried you might be lonely. You know, being in the air by yourself. But then it occurred to me that you spend your life doing that, so it must not bother you, and I'm being silly to even wonder about it."

  "Maybe," he said, "but I've gotta tell you that's the nicest thing anyone's wondered about me in an awfully long time."

  Running her fingertips along the steering wheel's grooves, she said, "I suppose since I'm already up, I should head to the pastry shop."

  "So that's my cue to beat it, huh?"

  She flushed. "I didn't mean—"

  "You're not very good with teasing, are you?" he asked, fighting the urge to cup her cheek.

  "No. That's more my sister's thing. You might like her better."

/>   "Uh-uh," he said with a vehement shake of his head. "I'm liking you just fine."

  Exhaling, she seemed more than a little relieved he hadn't taken her up on her suggestion. "Would it be all right if I gave you a hug?"

  Her ridiculous question made him bust out in a laugh.

  "I didn't mean that to be funny," she said. "In fact, I—"

  He silenced her by not only pulling her into a hug, but kissing the top of her sweet-smelling head. "And I didn't mean to laugh. I've been wondering if I should give you a hug, so your question struck me as funny."

  "Oh." Drawing back, he found her also sporting a smile.

  "All right…" He opened his door. "I better go."

  "Thanks for visiting. I had fun."

  "Me, too." With everything in him, he wanted to kiss her—properly kiss her, but he didn't. Couldn't. For the umpteenth time, he reminded himself the two of them were just friends. "Bye."

  Brady waved and then shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, brooding at the sight of her van's fading taillights.

  Cold wind bit his exposed skin.

  Rustling leaves from across the road mixed with the sound of a far-off barking dog.

  The time with Steph and her girls had been torture. Bittersweet. Reminding him of all the family times he'd missed. How had Lola spent her Sunday? Finishing homework? Watching one of her favorite movies or TV shows? Saddest part was that even with him back in Seattle, the two of them were still so distant he didn't know what her favorites were.

  Ignoring a shiver, he braced himself against the wind, welcoming its teeth. Maybe physical pain would drown out the emotional.

  He'd had so much weighing on him that at times it felt intolerable. But then Stephanie had appeared, giving him the kick in the pants he'd needed to realize he wasn't the only one hurting.

  A good thing, right?

  But now that he'd gotten to see Steph in her daily life, he didn't feel better, but worse. He now bore the additional worry of her working too many hours, and not seeing enough of her girls. He worried about her little house, and if her roof was in such bad shape, what else was lurking that couldn't be seen? A water heater waiting to gasp its last breath? A sink about to clog?

  Clamping his hand to his forehead, he forced a deep breath. Lord, here he was a bachelor who, aside from his daughter, shouldn't have had a care in the world. So why now did he feel as if he'd inherited another man's family?

  * * *

  "YOU NEVER TOLD ME THAT," Lisa complained while she and Stephanie jogged their way around Lake Winslet. Though the sky was gray and the wind sharp, Stephanie had needed out of the shop. Or maybe more specifically, away from her thoughts of Brady.

  "I don't have to tell you everything," Stephanie said, thighs screaming from the first exercise other than manning the vacuum, that she'd had in a while. "It was no big deal. Brady just got all macho and climbed on top of my roof in the middle of a storm. I cried a little. End of story."

  "Mmm-hmm…"

  "What?" They dodged a honking flock of geese fighting over a discarded hot dog bun. "It wasn't like another panic attack, or anything. I'm over those."

  "If that's truly the case, I'm glad."

  "But? Why can't you ever just be happy for me? Even if what happened two weeks ago had been a true attack, I survived, didn't I? And obviously Brady thinks I'm normal or he wouldn't have come back for a second visit."

  "True…" With Stephanie taking a slight lead, they rounded the playground area marking the halfway point around the trail. The sky had grown darker, looking as if at any minute they'd be plagued by a flood.

  "All right, out with it. What's got you so snarky?"

  "I'm hardly snarky. Just concerned."

  "About?" Stephanie snapped. Just once, couldn't her sister have a normal conversation without being worried about something?

  "You sound like you're falling for the guy."

  "I'm not. But even if I were, why can't you be happy for me? Brady would make some woman a great catch."

  "Except for his kid issues and ex-wife issues, and especially in your case, the fact that he spends a huge portion of his life in a cockpit."

  Stephanie might barely be able to breathe, but she did manage to gasp, "I should've asked someone else to go jogging with me. You're a pill."

  * * *

  IT WAS A GOOD THING Stephanie had no romantic feelings for Brady, because when he called two days later, asking to spend a portion of a seventy-two-hour layover with her and the girls, she might've turned him down. As it was, she couldn't have been more pleased.

  After picking him up from the airport, she drove to the town square, and with the girls strapped into their stroller, they set off at a casual pace to explore the fall festival being sponsored by local businesses and churches.

  I missed you, her racing pulse wanted to say, but in an effort to keep things cool between them, she opted for "Nice night, huh?"

  "Beautiful." His easy grin stole her breath away. Gaze locking with hers, he layered meaning upon meaning into his lone word.

  She wanted more than anything to take his hand into hers. Instead, she tightened her grip on the stroller handle.

  Ludwig's, a German restaurant famous for delicious bratwurst, had sponsored a band and the upbeat Bavarian tunes set a lively tone for the night. Along with great music were heavenly smells of everything from sausages to funnel cake and caramel-laced apple pie.

  "I love that game," Brady said, stopping in front of an apple-bobbing booth. With the earnings going to Valley View Elementary School, he'd at least get soaked for a good cause.

  "You just can't stay dry, can you?" she teased when after his third attempt, he still hadn't won.

  "I'm doing this for you," he said, eyeing a row of gaudy wooden shoes being given away for prizes. "I want to see you in that hot-pink pair."

  "At the rate you're going, fat chance."

  Hair dripping, he grinned up at her, "Oh, them's fightin' words."

  She should've kept her mouth shut as he won the next round.

  After pointing to the bedazzled pink pair featuring yellow and white polka dots, he proudly passed them along to her. "Cinderella, I believe you were missing these?"

  She groaned. "You don't really expect me to wear those?"

  He nodded. "Please…I worked so hard for them."

  "You're a hateful, hateful man. You know that, don't you?"

  "Stop the chitchat and put on the shoes."

  Not wanting to come off as a poor sport, she put on the shoes. "Joke's on you," she teased, doing a silly jig. "These feel great."

  "They're looking pretty great, too." His wink struck her as suspiciously flirty.

  "Why, Mr. McGuire, you wouldn't be flirting with me, would you?"

  Hand to his chest, he feigned shock—and a thick Southern drawl. "Gracious, no, little lady. I'm just workin' my considerable charm."

  "Uh-huh." Elbowing him, she dragged Brady off to the concession stand.

  * * *

  "I CAN'T REMEMBER THE LAST time I've had more fun," Brady said while helping Steph carry the girls in from the car. In order to drive, she'd traded her wooden shoes for her sneakers, but his mind's eye recalled all too clearly how cute she'd looked wearing them. She was short, but perfectly proportioned with curves in all the right places.

  "Me, too." While unlocking the kitchen door, Melanie fussed and squirmed in Steph's arms.

  "Told you we should've fed them more funnel cake."

  Giving him the evil eye over her shoulder, Steph said, "Were you volunteering to stay up with them all night when they have gurgling tummies?"

  He winced. "Point well-taken."

  After Steph flipped on the kitchen's overhead lights, Brady pressed the garage-door button, sending it into a noisy descent.

  With Melanie already in her high chair, Brady followed Steph's lead by getting Michaela set up to eat.

  "Your booth at the festival was amazing," he said, making small talk while she nuked the girls' food. "
Helen scares me, but I liked how all of your cookies were leaf-shaped and colored. You've got skills."

  "Thanks." As if she weren't used to praise, she blushed. "Helen's harmless and her humor just takes getting used to. She helped a lot. Plus my three part-time gals."

  "Maybe so, but you were the brains."

  "Stop." Her pinched look meant business. "What's up with you tonight?"

  "What do you mean?"

  She took the divided baby plates from the cabinet beside her. "Last time we hung out, it was no big deal. Casual, you know? Like friends should be. But tonight…" Reddening, she fanned her cheeks. "You seem different."

  "How?"

  After a deep breath, she said, "Like you've forgotten that we're not dating."

  "Oh—like you forgot? Have you seen some of the thousand-watt smiles you've cast my way?" She reddened.

  "You do know that was a joke, don't you?"

  Hand to her chest, she finally cracked a smile. "I just…well, I never meant for you to get the wrong impression. Like I was hitting on you. Your visits mean the world to me. And I want you to keep coming. But you also need to know that I get that you're not available. I'm not looking for some knight to charge up and save me. I'm a big girl and have already saved myself."

  "Did I ever say you hadn't?" Taking the plates from her hands and setting them on the counter, he drew her into a hug. "Michael would be so proud of the way you've held things together."

  "Th-thank you," she said on the heels of a sniffle.

  Tipping back her chin, he asked, "You're not going to start the waterworks again on me, are you?"

  Blasting him with a smile that did naughty things below his belt, she shook her head.

  Michaela kicked in her high chair.

  Melanie followed up with a squeal.

  Stephanie gave him one last indecipherable look before taking the plates, setting them in front of the microwave. "Guess that's our cue to start serving."

  After feeding the girls, it was time for their bath. Kneeling in front of the tub beside Steph, Brady felt like an old pro. It was amazing how fast infant-care procedure was coming back. And the more he was around Stephanie's twins the more he ached for his own little girl. Trouble was she wasn't little anymore.