Twice the Temptation--A twin pregnancy romance

by Silver James

  “Big night for you.”

  Britt inhaled deeply. “We won’t win. I’ve been working on my happy face so I can congratulate the winner.”

  “I’ve got faith in you.”

  She blinked up at him, her expression softening. “Really?”

  “Truly.” He brushed his fingertips across her cheek and smiled when she leaned into the caress. In a very soft voice, he asked, “When are you going to marry me, Girl Wonder?”

  Fourteen

  Britt forced air into her constricted lungs. She hadn’t expected him to bring up the subject again, especially not in this setting. Between the man and her hormones, her emotions were all over the map. When things were good between them, they were very, very good. Too good. Her fingers curled with the urge to touch him and the lips she bit tingled at the thought of kissing him. He was handsome enough to be a Hollywood star. And rich. With a perfect house and a perfect life. Just like their sexual chemistry was too good, he was too perfect. And she wasn’t.

  “Never. And you need to get over your hero complex. I don’t need rescuing.”

  His expression hardened just enough that she noticed the tightening around his eyes and the slight downturn of his mouth. This was not a man to cross. He might appear easygoing but she’d caught the fierce determination he harbored on more than one occasion.

  Before things got more uncomfortable, a man who looked very much like Cooper walked up with a dark-haired woman. Their identities clicked in her memory: Tucker Tate and his wife, country singer Zoe Parker. Zoe, evidently, was one to get directly to the point.

  “When ya due, sweetie? And if it’s not in a month or two, I hope there’s not more than two buns in your oven.”

  She’d hoped that this dress, designed for a maternity collection and with its empire waist and flowing tulle skirt, would have partially disguised her condition. Obviously not. She pasted a fake smile on her face. Technically, Tucker was her great-granddaddy boss or something. He was the chief operations officer of Barron Entertainment, which owned KOCX. Even so, she couldn’t keep a hint of sarcasm out of her voice when she responded. “How sweet of you to notice, hon. The twins are due in early June.”

  As if they didn’t already know this. She doubted her involvement with Cooper was any great secret in the Tate family. Or among the Barrons, for that matter. She had the distinct impression that there were no secrets in that family.

  Britt was surprised when Zoe didn’t take offense at her sarcasm. “If those babies are anything like my Nash, you have all my sympathy, sugar.” The woman glanced up at Tucker, eyes dancing with mischief. “And I just wanted to tell you that I’ve seen your documentary. We don’t get quite so much wild weather in Tennessee so I surely do admire the work you do, Britt. Crossin’ m’fingers that you win tonight.” She slipped her hand through her husband’s arm.

  Something inside Britt twisted just a little at the look on Tucker’s face as he gazed down at his wife, his expression both amused and indulgent. “What Zoe is too reticent—”

  “Honey, there’s not a reticent bone in my body, and you know it. What I’m leadin’ up to is I would dearly love to ride along with you when you go storm chasin’. I know Mama Katherine, using Coop’s name, won your silent auction prize at the benefit last November. I asked him to let me do it and he flat out said no. So...” Zoe batted long lashes at Britt, who had to suppress a laugh.

  Zoe was not at all what she’d expected. She truly was a country sweetheart and while Britt suspected the other woman could hold a mean grudge, there appeared to be nothing two-faced about her. This was someone—despite Zoe’s fame and fortune—whom Britt could be friends with. She pretended to consider the idea, one arm resting on her belly, hand cupping the opposite elbow, while tapping her cheek with one finger in the classic I’m-thinking-about-it gesture.

  Britt had all but forgotten about that stupid silent auction. Cooper hadn’t pressed things and she now wondered if he was keeping it as a backup plan or something. That would be just like him, to use the ride-along to get close to her. Still, taking a singing star on a chase would bring lots of publicity and she had a secret fan-girl crush on Zoe. She’d downloaded the singer’s album the first day it was available. And what a way to derail any nefarious plans Cooper might have regarding their ride-along.

  “Well...if you promise to sing to me, and give me an autograph, I bet we can work something out.”

  Zoe squealed and bounced up and down on her toes like a bobber on a cane fishing pole. That’s when Britt realized the woman wore cowboy boots with her obviously expensive designer gown. Zoe looked like the girl next door with her long brown hair and big brown eyes. The dress? It was pure red carpet—flounced in front, long in back, some décolletage showing beneath the coppery sheer fabric. Pair that with fabulous boots as shiny as brand-new copper pennies, and she looked like she was ready to accept an award at the CMAs. The thought hit her that if she married Cooper, Zoe would be her sister-in-law. And Deacon Tate, the country music megastar, would be her brother-in-law. She started to hyperventilate. These people were so out of her league.

  She had student loans out the wazoo, for Pete’s sake. And just who was Pete, she wondered, the distraction helping to bring her breathing back under control. She licked her lips nervously as the three people surrounding her watched, worry evident in their expressions.

  “Don’t mind me.” She waved one hand. “Nerves. I’m just a little anxious about the awards tonight.” A good enough alibi, she hoped.

  The overhead lights flashed, like in a theater lobby, to remind the patrons to return to their seats after intermission. Tucker and Zoe led the way. Britt followed with Cooper beside her, his warm hand resting against the small of her back. Heat spread through her and she fought against the magnetic pull of him—physically and emotionally. Cooper’s breathing hitched, almost as if he felt the small tremors his touch evoked in her. Did he feel the same things she did? Was it possible that she was fighting her feelings for no reason?

  As he held a chair for her and she sank onto it, she pushed those thoughts away. Deep down, she knew Cooper had the power to destroy her. He could take her job and attempt to take her babies. She could find another job but her children? She’d fight tooth and nail for them. But as she stroked her hand over her rounded belly, she knew Cooper would never do that to her. She glanced up and saw yearning in his gaze as he watched her touch her tummy.

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Everything okay? They giving you trouble tonight?”

  “Not really.” She studied him for a moment, made up her mind. “Want to touch?”

  He dropped into the chair beside her and she guided his hand to her side. One of the babies chose that moment to kick hard. Cooper’s eyes widened and a look of such wonder crossed his face that Zoe completely second-guessed her decisions. He was the father of the twins. He’d stepped up as soon as he became aware of that fact. And watching his reaction now? She knew deep in her heart that he truly wanted the babies. And maybe, he wanted her too.

  * * *

  Cooper remembered to breathe. He’d seen the twins moving on the sonograms but he’d never actually touched Britt’s belly after he was aware of them being inside her. He’d felt that kick through her hand. Strong, powerful. And alive. It really hit him in that moment. Oh, he’d had a bit of a revelation when he’d seen them on that big screen at the doctor’s office, but this? This contact, knowing his babies were in there growing and thriving, was amazing. Two little people that were half Britt and half him. He hoped they got her brains. Her stubbornness? Not so much. And if they were girls, he wanted them to look just like their mother. He was also guy enough to hope that they took after him if they were boys. Except he still wanted them to have Britt’s intelligence.

  “Wow,” he finally said, moving his gaze from their hands to her face. Then he blinked and almost choked. “Does that hurt?” He’d never con
sidered that it might and he never wanted to see Britt in pain.

  She rolled her eyes at him but for the first time in ages, her expression was soft as she regarded him. “No, it doesn’t hurt. Not exactly. It feels sort of like this.” She punched him in the ribs, none too gently.

  He grinned at her, but the wonder remained. He was going to be a dad. Before he could say anything else, the room darkened and the emcee began the ceremony. Cooper remained lost in a fog of happiness until he felt Britt stiffen beside him. He tuned back into his surroundings and noticed that everyone at their table sat up straight, anticipatory tension in their postures, as Britt’s category was announced.

  “Chasing Down the Wind, KOCX TV, Britt Owens and Leo Blevins.”

  The presenters went on to the other nominees but Cooper wasn’t paying any attention. Not when Britt’s hand had a death grip on his thigh. He carefully loosened her hold, substituting his hand. At long last, the woman at the microphone said, “And the winner is...”

  The male emcee tore open the envelope he held, pulled out the embossed card, and smiling, leaned toward the microphone and announced, “Chasing Down the Wind.” He went on to read all the names involved.

  Britt squealed as Leo let out a whoop. He kissed his wife and before Cooper knew it, Britt was kissing him. After a long moment, she pulled away, looking surprised with herself.

  “Congratulations, Girl Wonder. Proud of you.” And he wasn’t lying. He was proud of her. He just didn’t want her putting herself in danger.

  He pushed out of his chair and helped her stand. Everyone at the table stood with him, all of them clapping and whistling as Britt and Leo headed to the small platform, followed by a producer and Dave Edmonds, the station’s head meteorologist.

  Everyone gave a quick acceptance speech, passing the golden Emmy statuette around as each one spoke. Then the group was ushered off to the side where they posed for photographs as the next award was announced. Within a few minutes, they’d returned to the table for another round of congratulations. The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur.

  Once things wrapped up, Cooper put his plan into action—mainly getting rid of his brother and sister-in-law, sending Leo and his wife home in the limo, and bustling Britt into his brand-new Lincoln Navigator. The only delay was a game of rock-paper-scissors between Britt and Leo to determine who got to take the Emmy home for the night. Lucky—or intelligently conniving—as always, Britt won.

  Inside the Navigator, with the heat blasting, he glanced at her, and was surprised to find her studying him. “Penny for your thoughts...”

  “It’s a dollar now. Inflation and all that.” She smiled when he pulled out a dollar bill. “Funny.”

  “Britt...”

  “Cooper...”

  His turn to smile now. “Will you come home with me?” He glanced away from her to focus on driving. “We’ll put that shiny statuette on the mantel, build a fire in the fireplace, snuggle in on the couch and admire it.”

  “Sure we will.” Britt touched his arm and he looked at her. She winked at him and he breathed. “Yes, I’ll go home with you.”

  * * *

  When Britt opened her eyes, gray winter sunlight drifted through the filmy drapes curtaining the French doors and casting a golden glow on the statuette prominently displayed on Cooper’s bedside table. She’d won a freaking Emmy! And...she’d slept with Cooper. Again. Despite her best intentions, she couldn’t stay away from him.

  Her dilemma currently snored softly at her back, one arm draped over her and a warm hand cupping her belly.

  She shivered when lips nuzzled the nape of her neck. “You like my house,” Cooper murmured against her skin.

  “Maybe a little.” She could admit that much but wasn’t about to tell him she thought his house was perfect.

  “I like having you here.” His hand caressed her side. “You could live here...”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know all the reasons, Cooper.”

  Their cell phones both beeped alerts. Since his arms were around her, Britt reached for hers. The banner text made her sit up, swing her legs out of bed and head for the windows. A winter not-so-wonderland stretched out before her.

  “What the—” There hadn’t been an ice storm in the forecast. A cold front had been predicted for the start of the week but not overnight. This was why weather fascinated her.

  Cooper joined her at the window. He offered her a long-sleeved T-shirt, even though the air in the room was warm. He helped her into it and she smiled at the sweet gesture. The shirt swallowed her, the sleeves trailing way over her hands and the bottom hem falling to midthigh. When he kissed her temple, she didn’t shy away.

  “I’m going to grab a quick shower then I’ll start coffee and breakfast. Take your time. I’ve got some calls to make.”

  She tilted her head to look up at him. “It’s Sunday morning.”

  “And we woke up to an ice storm. Half the state is shut down and I have active rigs in the alert area. I need to make sure my crews are okay.”

  Britt had never considered exactly what Cooper did. In the back of her mind, he was just some rich oil executive with a corner office in Barron Tower. Except he traveled to hurricane zones and volunteered with the Cajun Navy. He drove bulldozers and rescued trapped cows—cattle, she amended. He did things. Physical things that got his hands dirty. Literally. He rescued her and he lived in a perfect house on a perfect acreage and he cradled her while she slept.

  And her resistance was beginning to crumble.

  Fifteen

  After two months, Cooper should have been used to this. He was waiting in the kitchen when she walked in just past five o’clock. “You snuck out again this morning.” He kept his voice level, not that he was really upset. Okay, maybe just a little. She made a habit of sneaking out and he always woke up disgruntled when he found her side of the bed empty. After the three-day ice storm back in January, most of her clothes had slowly migrated from her apartment to his closet, along with some personal items over that time. She was all but living with him but she would not, despite all his best efforts, admit that she was.

  “I had to be at work at eight.” She bristled, arms folded across the large swell of her belly.

  He raised a brow. Britt raised her chin. He had to be a truly sick puppy to enjoy her stubborn temper as much as he did. “So?”

  She gave him the stink eye, arms crossed, feet splayed for balance as she leaned toward him.

  “I didn’t want to be late.”

  “How long would it take to wake me with a kiss and tell me goodbye?”

  Color rose up her neck to eventually stain her cheeks. He liked that he had that effect on her.

  “You don’t do ‘goodbye’ kisses.” Her hands came up to make air quotes.

  “I don’t?”

  She waggled a finger. “No, you don’t. You start with a kiss and then you get all grabby hands and...and... I’m suddenly naked and late. I’m not a big boss like you. I’m a lowly adjunct professor, and part-time at that. I can’t afford to be late and it’s a longer drive from your house.”

  Britt was gearing up for a tirade and whatever happened next was sure to be entertaining. He added fuel to the fire. “I’m sure the powers that be at the station would hire you full time for in-studio stuff. That pays more than being an adjunct professor and you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to Norman.”

  “I like teaching. And I’m not the anchor type.”

  “Working at the TV station means no rush hour traffic.”

  “I hate it when you’re logical,” she groused.

  “Then I’ll be illogical. Marry me and quit.”

  “Don’t even go there. Just because I’m pregnant—”

  “I love you.”

  Her eyes softened and he had hope until she s
poke.

  “I don’t love you, Cooper.”

  “You will.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  He used his boyish grin, the one that hinted at a dimple he didn’t really have but always drove the girls crazy. “I’ll wear you down eventually.”

  That got him an exaggerated eye roll. Part of him knew better than to push her but he was getting tired of the long game. As much as Britt frustrated him, he also adored her. Of course he was in love with her. How could he not be?

  “Are you hungry?”

  Britt looked confused for a minute. “What?”

  “Dinner. I can cook or we can go out.”

  “I think I just got whiplash from the change in subject. And I can cook.”

  “You look tired. Why don’t you put your feet up and I’ll fix something.”

  “You’re changing the subject because you were losing the argument.”

  “I was winning but you do look tired.”

  “You’re coddling me again, thinking it’ll help your cause.”

  “Yes, yes I am. Is it working?”

  “No.” She huffed out a breath. “Maybe.”

  He’d take that.

  * * *

  Britt settled on a bale of hay in Cooper’s horse barn. March had roared in like a lion but was currently playing the lamb. Bored, she’d trailed after Cooper when he headed outside with a casual, “Got chores to do,” called over his shoulder.

  She wasn’t much of a country girl but hey, hay was hay, right? Horse and cow food and a place to sit while she watched Cooper brush a big gray horse. Yes, that summed up hay nicely. And was about as deep as her thoughts could get at the moment. Cooper wore a heather-gray T-shirt that molded to his body. Faded jeans hugged his butt and every time he bent over, she had to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth. Why was he so sexy? And such a nice guy. She really needed him to be a big ol’ jerk because her heart was at stake, which it shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t hook up just because they were going to be parents.