by Leslie North
Mia slept in the guest room herself, but she’d wandered into Kenton’s bedroom from time to time, usually late at night after the girls were asleep. She’d been curious about the single man who’d bought such a lovely and large home. She hoped he’d never realize that she’d opened his closet and drawn in the rich scent of man and sandalwood from time to time.
Something about his scent and his belongings had felt reassuring to her at a time when her life was in chaos. Normally, she didn’t mind a little uncertainty. She tended to thrive on it, but not now that she was responsible for her young nieces. She wasn’t going to shed her free-spirited ways completely, but her priorities had had to shift.
“Would you like to explain to me why you’re in my house?” Kenton asked, now that a subdued Eliot sat at his feet.
“I’m guessing you haven’t had a chance to speak with your mom yet?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Oh, she said she was going to get in touch with you.” Mia had counted on Margaret explaining the situation to her son. Kenton’s confusion and anger made more sense now. “Should we go into the living room to talk?” At his nod, she led the way, feeling odd as she walked through his house as if she were the hostess. “Sorry about the mess,” she said with a quick glance around. When she’d moved in, the house had been immaculate, not a thing out of place. With two little kids, it was impossible to keep it that way. A basket of toys was turned over on the hardwood floor, a sippy cup sat on the cherrywood coffee table, and a discarded sweatshirt was draped on the sofa. The place wasn’t ready for a House Beautiful photo shoot.
“I don’t care about that,” he said, but his shoulders tensed. He most certainly did care. She could see that as plain as day. “I want to know why you appear to live here and why there’s a kid in my house.”
“Two kids, actually.” She hesitated, trying to decide the best way to contextualize her presence. “I guess it all started six months ago, when my sister and brother-in-law passed away in a car accident.” Mia was proud of herself for getting the sentence out so calmly. Speaking of Caroline and Matt’s deaths was still so hard. Her sister had been her one true friend, the rock that never shifted in her life, and she was taken away in the blink of an eye.
“I’m sorry,” he said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch while he took a seat by the fireplace.
“They were hit from the side by a truck. The police told me they died instantly.” She hoped that was the case, since she couldn’t stand the thought of them suffering. “Fortunately, the girls were at the sitter’s.” The mix of emotions on the day of the accident had nearly killed her. She’d been so grieved about her sister but overjoyed Emma and Ava were okay.
“So you became their guardian?”
“Right. I don’t have kids of my own. I mean… I’m not married or anything, so there was a learning curve. Parenting twins is tough.” Mia had been a doting aunt since the girls were born, but that hadn’t prepared her for being their full-time care provider. Her life had taken a radical shift.
“I’ll bet. Now, about the house?” he prompted.
“I’m getting there,” she said as another cry reached her from upstairs. She rose, unsure whether to dash off or stay and finish the story. She wanted him to understand, but she wasn’t making progress toward that goal. “Anyway, about a month ago my apartment building caught fire—” A scream that climbed upward on the decibel meter came from Emma, and Mia jumped into motion. “I need to get her.”
“But—” His phone’s ring cut him off.
“Is that your mother?” Mia moved toward the stairs.
He shot her a look as he pulled his phone from his pocket and took a glance at the screen. “Yeah.”
“Answer it, please. She’ll explain.” With that, Mia sprinted up the steps and headed toward the twins’ room. “It’s okay, baby,” she said softly when she got to Emma’s crib. The girl was sitting up, her eyes wide and her mouth open to yell again. Mia sucked in a breath. The twins looked so much like their mother, with their golden hair and brown eyes. Ava seemed to have her mother’s personality, calm and thoughtful. Ava was a watcher. She wasn’t docile, but she was patient.
“You’re not, though, are you?” Mia spoke to Emma in a soft voice as she lifted her from the crib. “It’s all ‘Look at me, look at me’ for you.” After a quick peek to make sure Ava was still sleeping, Mia made her way back downstairs with Emma.
“All right, Mom, I get it,” Kenton was saying into his phone. His broad back was turned, so he didn’t see Mia enter the room. “They had nowhere else to go. Must have been a hell of a fire.”
Mia shivered as she thought back to that night. The blare of the fire alarm had woken her at just past three. Normally, she wasn’t someone who panicked, but as soon as she’d sat up, she’d smelled smoke. She’d flown out of bed, grabbing the first items of clothing she could find, and gone to the twins. Smoke swirled through her apartment, and she’d feared she wouldn’t be able to make it down the stairs from the third floor. She’d wrapped both of them in damp towels and hoisted one girl on each hip before flinging her door open and racing for the stairwell with Eliot on her heels.
Once she’d gotten outside, Mia had hugged the babies to her and sat in the grass near her car, wondering what she was going to do, as the fire trucks arrived. The fire, pushed by a strong wind, raced through the building, damaging every unit. She kept repeating to herself that they were safe. Emma, Ava, Eliot—her little family was okay. Homeless and frightened but unharmed.
The local Red Cross had given her shelter for the night and food, but it was when she went to the bakery where she worked the following morning that she found her guardian angel in the form of Margaret Fitzpatrick. Margaret, who owned the clothing boutique next door to the bakery, had listened to the story of the fire and immediately suggested that Mia move into her son’s home. Margaret had even helped Mia and the girls settle in, all the while insisting that Kenton would be deployed for several months yet.
But he’d arrived home early. Mia bounced Emma on her knee and tuned in to the conversation Kenton was having with his mother. Would he toss them out? She wouldn’t blame him if he did. She rapidly considered her options. The company that owned her apartment building had another in the next town. But it was a forty-minute drive, and that building didn’t allow dogs. What would she do with Eliot? And the long drive would really complicate her life.
“Why didn’t you have them stay with you?” Kenton listened for a minute before responding. “That’s right. I forgot you were remodeling.” More silence on his end. “I didn’t expect to be back yet, either, but I am.” Kenton rubbed the back of his head as he spoke, making Mia realize how tired he must be and how he must have been looking forward to relaxing in his lovely, empty house.
Margaret hadn’t filled in all the details about her son, but she’d said enough for Mia to know he was Special Forces and was often deployed all over the world. She wondered what kind of life that was and how it meshed with the traditional home he’d purchased. Somehow, it didn’t seem to fit.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I’ll come to dinner soon,” he said in the tone of a man who wanted to end the conversation. “Tell Dad I said hello, and I’ll see you.”
Kenton hung up and turned, catching sight of her and Emma. She guessed by the hitch of his eyebrows that people didn’t usually sneak up on him. Probably a sign of his exhaustion.
“This is Emma,” she said and raised the toddler’s hand in a wave. He studied the girl before cautiously lifting his hand to return her gesture.
“Cute kid,” he said. “Are they identical?”
“Technically, yes, but they’re easy to tell apart,” she said. He nodded, and she noted the dark circles under his eyes. Time to wrap this up. “I guess your mom explained about the fire. She was sure you wouldn’t be home, or I’d have never…”
“It’s fine,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck again. “We’ll figure out
the details in the morning.”
“I’m off tomorrow, so we can talk,” Mia said. Her usual shift making bread, pastries, and doughnuts began early in the morning, which had proved challenging with the twins.
“Mom said you work at Hamman’s Bakery.” Kenton remained standing, making her wonder if he’d fall asleep instantly if he sat.
“That’s how I know your mom.” Mia had been reluctant to accept Margaret’s offer of a place to stay. For herself, she never would have.
For the girls, she’d do what she had to.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said again. “I’m going to lock up and get some sleep.” He moved toward the foyer but paused before leaving the living room. “Do you need any help? I mean, with…” He gestured to Emma.
“I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” She listened to him moving through the house, checking the front door that she’d already locked and going through the kitchen to the mudroom to make sure it was secure. “Well, little girl,” she said to Emma, whose eyes were looking heavy, “time for us to go to bed, too.”
3
Kenton cracked his eyes open. He hadn’t spent the night in his house often enough for it to feel familiar, but he liked the way the light reflected on the pale blue he’d painted his bedroom walls and the smell of pancakes cooking. It was homey.
Wait. Pancakes? He lifted his head off the pillow as memory hit him. He had guests. Was that the right word? Probably not. He had inhabitants. Before going to bed, he’d taken a few minutes to search online for an article about the fire that had left Mia homeless. Images of the blaze filled his screen, and he’d read the fire chief’s comments about how it had been miraculous no one was killed when an apartment on the second floor caught fire.
Mia and her nieces were lucky to be alive, so Kenton could see why his mother had offered his house. The problem was that he’d been looking forward to being alone. He wanted some quiet time to reflect on his recent mission and to start mapping out his future. Both of those things were going to be difficult with a woman, two little kids, and an unruly dog in his space.
He heard a scratching sound on the door to his room, followed by a whine. A second later the door opened and Eliot bounded in, leaped straight onto Kenton’s bed, and stood next to him.
“No,” Kenton said, but the dog cocked his head to one side and licked Kenton’s face. “Stop that.” Kenton pushed at the dog’s head, trying to get him to move away, but Eliot shook his head, causing his ears to flap and drool fly. And then, Eliot sneezed. Right on Kenton. “For god’s sake. Get down, you beast.”
Kenton sat up and managed to get the animal off the bed. “Now, sit,” he commanded. Eliot wagged his tail and panted as if that was the correct response. “No one has trained you, have they?” Kenton let out a sigh. “We’re going to have to work on that, after I have a conversation with your owner.”
Kenton dug through his drawers and pulled on some clothes before following the scent of pancakes through the house. Eliot beat him to the kitchen, sliding across the floor and into Mia where she stood at the stove. She laughed when the dog licked her knee.
“Good morning, Eliot.” Mia turned with the spatula in her hand to greet the dog and caught sight of Kenton in the doorway. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Hi,” he said, taking in the scene. The twins sat in high chairs that had been pulled up to the kitchen table. They were ripping apart pancakes and shoving chunks into their mouths. Kenton assessed the girls. Their features appeared to be identical. Exact same hair, eyes, and little noses. The only difference he could see was that one wore a blue shirt while the other had on purple. Both of them glanced up briefly. One met his gaze, but the other ducked her head and began eating again.
“Coffee is ready,” Mia said, “and this pancake is just about to come out of the pan. It’s in the shape of R2-D2, if you want to claim it.” She smiled at him. He’d only seen a hint of that the night before, or maybe he’d been too damn tired and shocked to notice. But it was bright enough to light a room.
“I have Mickey Mouse, too, if you prefer that.” She gestured with her shoulder to the pancake on a plate nearby. “I do flowers, birds, whatever you like.”
Shaped pancakes? “What about curious chocolate Labradors?” It seemed only right he have a dog pancake in Eliot’s honor. After all, Eliot had been his first kiss in quite some time.
Mia chuckled, pouring the batter in the pan. “One chocolate lab coming right up.”
Kenton glanced around his kitchen as he sat. The living room had looked… well… lived in. Messy and scattered with kid paraphernalia. But the kitchen was spotless and clutter-free. Since she worked in a bakery, that made sense, and he was grateful.
“He didn’t wake you this morning, did he?” She asked as she flipped the pancake.
“Wake is a mild way to put it.” His tone was playful.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. An embarrassed blush traced across her nose, reddening her face from cheek to cheek. “I am so sorry.” The color was endearing on her. His words faltered as he stared at her.
She was lovely, and he was oh-so-pathetic for the way he ogled her over a simple flush. “It—It’s fine. The kiss was a little on the wet side, but nothing I can’t handle.”
The color deepened, and her lips mashed together, holding in a laugh. “He is rather affectionate.” She plated the dog pancake and added a few sausage links before handing it to him. “Butter and syrup are already on the table.”
A minute later, she tossed the pan in the sink and joined him. Before beginning to eat, she cut up a sausage link into small pieces and put a few on each girl’s plate.
“Do they like the same things?” he asked, unsure of what to say about the kids.
“Mostly, but they are very much individuals. I like that about them.” She poured syrup over her pancake. “You met Emma last night.” She indicated the twin in blue. “And this is Ava. She’s the quieter one.” The little girl peeked at him from under golden eyelashes.
“Hi,” Kenton said, feeling uncomfortable. Kids were all new to him. As long as they never changed clothes, he’d be okay at telling them apart. “I looked up pictures of the fire,” he said. “Scary.”
“It was,” she admitted, lowering her voice. “I was terrified, but I had to react. In the moment, I couldn’t think about anything but getting them out. They’re the only family I have.”
“Grandparents?” Didn’t she have anyone to help her?
She shook her head. “My parents passed away when I was a girl, and their father’s family lives in Alaska. I video chat with them periodically so they can see their grandchildren, but my sister’s will was clear. The girls are mine to raise. That’s why I was so thankful for your mother’s offer. Finding another place to live on short notice with two kids and a dog seemed almost impossible.” She was speaking rapidly, as if she had to make her case to him.
“I’m not going to ask you to leave, you know,” he said. She needed to relax, since no way was he tossing her and two little kids out on their butts. That wasn’t who he was. He wouldn’t do that to her.
“Thanks.” She let out a sigh and flashed him another smile. It made his chest tighten. “That’s very kind of you. You have no idea how much this helps.”
Kenton returned her smile, and his stomach fluttered. He took a deep breath, smothering the sensation. This wasn’t the time or place. “Were all your belongings destroyed?”
“I was able to salvage a few things,” she said, “but most of it had so much water and smoke damage that it wasn’t worth keeping. Insurance helped me replace what I needed in the short term. Cribs for the girls and clothes and the like.”
Kenton watched Eliot approach Emma’s high chair and swipe a piece of sausage from the tray. Not a difficult trick for a dog whose head was level with the table, but not acceptable behavior, either.
“Mia—” He tried to get her attention.
“My apartment is being redone, and the parts of the b
uilding destroyed by the fire have been torn down and are being rebuilt, but I don’t know when we can return.”
“Yeah, I read that in the online article, too. Uh… Mia.” He pointed to where Eliot was swiping food from the other twin’s tray.
“Eliot, stop that,” Mia said, but her tone was amused. The dog glanced at her with soulful eyes and snagged another piece of pancake.
“He’s completely untrained,” Kenton declared. That needed to change, and soon. He’d make allowances for some things, but not a half-wild dog.
“Not entirely. He hasn’t had an accident in the house,” she said brightly. “The twins, however…”
“Huh?” What kind of accident was she talking about?
“They aren’t trained, either. Toddlers are messy.”
Emma was smashing the remains of her pancake into her hair. “I can see that,” he commented.
“Don’t worry,” Mia continued. “I’ll scrub down the walls and floors before we move out.”
Walls? He didn’t like the sound of that. Even though he hadn’t lived in the house much, he’d taken care to select colors appropriate to the home’s age. And he’d bought furnishings that were comfortable and classic. His mom had helped him, but he’d also engaged an interior decorator for the formal rooms. This house was going to be the setting for the perfect life he was planning for himself.
If it survived this temporary invasion.
Kenton felt his annoyance rise, which wasn’t fair. Mia was in a bind. Maybe it was best to keep his distance, so at least he didn’t see the destruction firsthand.
He stood up and took his plate to the dishwasher. “I’ve got some work to do. Do you want me to help you clean up?”
“I’ve got it.” Mia wiped Ava’s hands with a paper towel.
“Thanks for breakfast, then.”