Twice the Temptation--A twin pregnancy romance

by Silver James

  Granted, they’d had a series of one-night stands, which stretched into a series of one-week stands and now it was almost April. She had no excuse for her actions. They had nothing in common. He was rich. Really rich. He belonged to a powerful family. He looked as good in old jeans and a T-shirt as he did in a designer suit and that, she decided, was a tough act to follow. He tripped her feminine switches with his rugged, outdoorsy good looks. He always had. She’d all but thrown herself at him—okay, she had thrown herself at him like five minutes after she first saw him.

  He should be a jerk, she reminded herself. But he wasn’t. She watched the muscles of his arm bunch and relax as he brushed the horse, concentrating on that rather than his broad back. Little shivers teased through her body. Why had he turned out to be a really good guy? The good ones were supposed to be as rare as unicorns.

  “What’s her name?” Britt had to focus on something besides the man.

  “His. This is Tramp. He’s a gelding.”

  “Okay...”

  Cooper glanced over at her. “Three kinds of horses, Girl Wonder.” He held up an index finger. “Mares. Those are the female horses.”

  “I knew that,” she muttered.

  “Stallions,” he said, holding up a second finger.

  “Know that, too.”

  “And geldings. Who used to be stallions.”

  “That’s weird. When dogs are neutered, they’re still just dogs.”

  “It’s the same with cattle. A bull that’s been cut is a steer.”

  “Cut?”

  “That’s the cowboy term for neutering a horse or cow.”

  “I thought a cow was female. So you spay cows?”

  “Cow is the singular term for any bovine. It is also a female cow, as opposed to a bull or steer.”

  “Stop. You’re going to make my head explode.”

  He moved around the horse to brush the other side, watching her over the big animal’s back. “Okay. I won’t explain about calves and heifers or colts and fillies then.”

  She glowered and moved her curled hands up to both sides of her head and expanded them with sound effects to indicate that her head had, indeed, exploded, at least figuratively.

  “And then there’s—”

  “Shut up, Coop. Just...shut it.”

  The grin he flashed was full of wicked intent. “Make me.”

  “I can do that,” she said, her own expression just as wicked.

  * * *

  A few days later, Britt stood in the archway separating the dining room and kitchen. Cooper sat at the high counter dividing the kitchen from the family room spooning something into his mouth. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the fragrance that had enticed her.

  “Did you leave any for me?”

  Cooper’s head jerked up, his expression bathed in guilt. Britt managed a poker face though it was hard to resist curling her lips between her teeth to keep from smiling. The empty dish spoke volumes—as did the empty container proclaiming it had once held vanilla bean ice cream. He slid off the stool and padded over to the refrigerator. His faded jeans rode low on his hips, his back flaring into broad shoulders. Nope. She wouldn’t be distracted by his obvious charms. She was not going there. Especially since he’d eaten her peach cobbler.

  His head and shoulders disappeared into the fridge and he withdrew something. Then the freezer drawer opened, closed. He kept his back to her but said, “Have a seat, Girl Wonder. You need real food.”

  Britt humphed but settled on the stool he’d vacated. She glanced at the bowl he’d been eating from. A pool of melted ice cream and a smear of gooey sauce left from the cobbler was all that remained of the treat his mother had dropped by. For her. Not Cooper. For Britt. She knew that because Katherine had called her to say she was dropping off a peach cobbler just for her because it was her favorite. She absently rubbed the side of her rounded belly. One of the twins was using her rib cage for a jungle gym.

  A chef’s salad appeared in front of her. “Eat all of that and you get dessert.”

  Coop held another cobbler and carton of ice cream.

  “Tease,” she groused.

  “Absolutely.”

  She poured blue cheese dressing over the salad, impressed that he’d cut the hard-boiled eggs into precise slices. Even the fresh ham and turkey had been julienned. And there wasn’t a tomato in sight. She had nothing against tomatoes. They were perfectly nice as long as they involved ketchup, spaghetti sauce or BBQ. For a man who seemed mostly clueless, Cooper sure did pay attention when it came to her likes and dislikes. She stabbed at some leafy greens and swirled them through the dressing. She was chewing when Coop set down a napkin-covered basket. Hot breadsticks hid beneath the cloth. Who used cloth napkins? Well, what bachelor used them? Besides Cooper Tate, obviously.

  Of course, she’d met—and been vetted—by Katherine Tate. The woman wore pearls, for gosh sakes. Of course there would be no paper napkins on her table. Britt preferred paper towels herself. Then again, she hadn’t exactly eaten at home. She dined a la carte—from Taco Bell, Sonic, KFC, Arby’s. Fast food was definitely her cuisine of choice. Since all but moving in with Cooper, though, they often ate at home, usually with him cooking. Living here was easy to get used to. And she shouldn’t. A part of her kept waiting for that proverbial other shoe—or in this case, boot—to drop.

  A dark shadow appeared on the opposite wall and she watched as Lucifer slunk toward her. The cat was a sneaky devil and he loved ice cream. She wondered if he liked cobbler. She shoveled salad into her mouth. A strip of ham fell off her fork and didn’t make it to the floor. Luci caught it midair and scarfed it down. Then he sat back on his haunches gazing at her with a baleful expression, demanding she drop more meat.

  “Don’t feed the cat. He has his own bowl.”

  She glanced up, her guilt apparently obvious on her face, based on Cooper’s grin.

  “Whatever,” she muttered. But there was warm peach cobbler and ice cream to distract her from the sexy man.

  * * *

  Cooper had hung the swing from the big tree near the fire pit on a whim. With his cousins’ children coming for the occasional visit, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now? Now, he decided the idea had been utterly brilliant. Britt, wearing a loose dress covered with flowers painted in outrageous hues, pushed off in the swing. Her rounded belly peeked from behind the riotous colors as she pumped her legs and leaned back to swing higher.

  For all intents and purposes, they were living together. He liked having her under his roof and in his life. A rough meow drew his attention to his feet. Lucifer sat beside his scuffed boots, eyes fixed on the colorful display. Britt continued to swing gently, her barefoot toes reaching for the sky on the upswing, in dappled shade for a moment before they disappeared in the long skirt as she folded them beneath the swing on her way back down.

  He moved closer, standing by just in case. He would give her a push whenever she asked, whenever she hollered, “Higher!” She didn’t ask so he remained on the sidelines with Lucifer. “We need to figure out a way to make her stay,” he muttered to the cat. He glanced down. Luci stared up at him, his gaze malevolent. “You know you want her to stay just as much as I do.”

  In a display of feline disgust, Luci appeared to roll his eyes as he shook his head, flipped his tail and sauntered back toward the main house. The cat couldn’t fool him. He’d caught the darn thing curled up next to Britt, snore-purring while she petted him, more than once.

  Cooper settled into a lounge chair and watched the woman he hungered for. The sun disappeared as gray clouds collided overhead. The wind changed, bringing the scent of rain and ozone. Britt slowed the swing, dragging her feet in the grass until it stopped. She hopped out and strode toward him, calling “Where’s my phone?”

  He pulled it out of his hip pocket and handed it to her. As she checked for message
s, the first fat raindrops fell. Coop grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the house. They were drenched by the time they reached the French door opening into the master bedroom. Laughing like kids, they surged into the house and headed to the bath. He grabbed a thick towel and wrapped it around her before snagging a second one he used to dry her long hair.

  “What about you?” Britt asked, eyeing the way his shirt molded to his chest.

  “I’m not so sweet that I’ll melt because I got wet. You? You might.”

  Cooper didn’t smile at first when he saw her expression go soft. But looking into brown eyes the color of melted chocolate, he felt his own expression soften.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that,” Britt murmured.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll make me like you and I don’t want to like you.”

  “You’re carrying my babies, Britt. You should like me.”

  “No, I shouldn’t,” she insisted as she face-planted against his wet shirt. “You’re a serial impregnator.”

  “I don’t think that’s a word.”

  “It should be.”

  He gently gripped her biceps and leaned away from her while keeping her in place. He met her gaze dead on. “I’ve never gotten anyone but you pregnant, Britt. And if I’d been thinking with the correct head, I would have realized the stupid condom was old.”

  “But that other woman is stuck in my head...”

  “Shh.” He released her arms, his hands moving to cup her face. He bent and brushed his lips across hers. “I’ll show you the DNA test if that will help. I promise, Britt. You are the only one carrying my children.”

  She rocked back and while he let her go, he didn’t break eye contact. She studied him, her gaze flicking over his face, his body, then the area around them.

  “You have a swing in your yard,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “I love swings.” The soft expression on her face was replaced by one filled with worry. “Do you really want the twins?”

  She sounded so fragile, not brash and sure like his Girl Wonder at all. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He wrapped Britt in his arms, but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he eased off her wet clothes and dried the damp left behind from the rain. Then he dressed her in one of his T-shirts and set her on the counter while he stripped and dried off before pulling on a pair a loose cotton gym shorts. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed.

  They lay together, listening to the heavy patter of the rain, lightning occasionally flashing through the windows, followed by thunder. He stroked her lightly, and simply enjoyed holding her as they lay together.

  Eventually, he spoke. “I have six cousins, all brothers by three different women. I have six brothers. Same mom and dad. Family is kind of a big deal around here. I was with Cord right after he learned about CJ. He was devastated that he’d missed so much of his son’s life because Jolie didn’t tell him. And Deacon? He didn’t give a damn whether Noelle was his by blood or not. He became that little girl’s dad the moment he picked her up. The same with Tucker. He didn’t care that Zoe was having another guy’s baby. He loves Zoe, and Nash is his. End of story. How could I not want our babies?”

  “Your family is a little weird.”

  Laughter burst out before he could stop it, the explosion ruffling Britt’s hair. “A little weird? Darlin’, you don’t know us at all. My mother wears pearls to ride horseback. My oldest brother is a super ninja dude, my baby brother is a musical genius, and the rest of us just hang on for the ride. Well, I just hold on for the ride because I’m the only normal and sane one in the bunch.”

  Britt giggled. “Deacon seems pretty squared away.”

  “Deacon is married to a former highway patrol trooper.”

  “So?”

  “Who do you think keeps him squared away? I mean, dude. He’s a Nashville country music superstar.”

  “You guys are all overachievers.”

  “I blame it on sibling rivalry.”

  “So what’s your superpower?”

  “Saving pretty storm chasers.”

  “I don’t need saving.”

  Did her voice sound a little wistful? There beneath the indignation? Yeah, Cooper decided. He’d heard it. He settled her with her head on his shoulder so they could both watch the rain out the window. A comfortable silence stretched between them. After a while, the rain petered off. The delicate, sweet fragrance of honeysuckle washed in through the open windows on the fresh breeze. The storm rumbled in the distance as rain changed to drizzle. Though the storm had come to an end, neither of them moved. Daylight faded to dusk, but he didn’t turn on a light.

  “I love that scent,” Britt finally said. “Rain and honeysuckle. It reminds me of spring.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Rain and honeysuckle will always remind me of you.”

  “Stop saying stuff like that.” She raised her head and twisted her neck to look at him. “Just stop being sweet.”

  “Ha,” he teased. “You do like me.”

  Sixteen

  There was always calm before the storm. They’d been getting along so well, but then again, they’d had a mild spring, Until now. Severe weather was out there waiting and Cooper realized he’d probably just stepped in a big ol’ pile of cow patties when he decreed that she was not going to be chasing tornadoes this year.

  “You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do, Cooper Tate.” Britt was spitting mad. “It’s spring. Storm season. My job is to be out there—” She swept her arm in a wide arc indicating...the world. “This is what I do.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  She cupped her palms on both sides of her belly. “Gee. Brilliant deduction. What was your first clue, Sherlock?”

  “Britt—”

  “Do not go there, Cooper. Don’t get all conciliatory and condescending. I’m perfectly healthy and thus capable of doing my job. My doctor has cleared me to work. The station has cleared me.”

  He inhaled to argue again but she cut him off. “I sit in my truck. I drive my truck. I look at instrument readings. I’d say I take pictures but that’s what Leo is for. He’ll be with me. He’s perfectly capable of driving too. It’s just that trying to work the cameras and the communications equipment is better done when not driving. I’m not due until June. This is April. Heck, the doctor said I could work right up to the point my water breaks.”

  Coop resisted the urge to stick his fingers in his ears and sing la-la-la-la like a six-year-old who didn’t want to hear his parents. He’d undergone a crash course on pregnancy and childbirth with his cousin Kaden. Despite being squeamish, he was looking forward to the birth of his children. The little duo hadn’t yet revealed their genders, and they were on the small side for how far along they were in the gestation period. He knew this because, yeah, he’d taken a second crash course because these were his babies. And he was ready for them. Sort of. Mostly. As ready as any man could be.

  He swallowed his anger and tried logic instead. “You’re having twins, Britt.” He ignored the look she leveled on him. “The doctor said there is a chance you could go into premature labor. What happens if you are out in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Every town and city has a hospital. And doctors.”

  “But not your doctor.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I don’t want to fight with you, Cooper, but let’s get something straight since you still haven’t gotten it through your thick skull. You are not the boss of me. You can’t tell me what to do, especially when it comes to my job. Or my body.” She added that last under her breath but he heard it all the same.

  “They’re my babies too, Britt. Why is it so terrible that I want to keep you and them safe?” He caught her face in his hands, and she met his gaze. “I love you. The idea of you being out there somewhere I can’t get to you,
of you getting hurt—or worse? It makes me crazy.”

  Her expression softened only a tiny bit, her insistent anger still riding just beneath the surface of her emotions.

  “You make me crazy, Coop.” Her hands circled his wrists, and she pulled his hands away. “Just because I’m carrying babies and my body is a hormonal stew doesn’t make me less than what I’ve always been.”

  “I never said that, Britt,” he answered hotly. “Not once. It has nothing to do with your abilities or your intelligence. But it’s not just about you anymore. There are two other lives depending on you. Three, if you include me. I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. I want to raise our babies together and have more of them whenever you’re ready. Why does that make me the villain in all this?”

  “This isn’t about you or what you want,” she spat out, her anger in full bloom now.

  His phone chose that inopportune time to ring. Fishing it out of his hip pocket, he answered. Several four-letter words knocked around on his tongue, wanting to be let loose as he listened to the caller. He swallowed the curses, but when he spoke, his voice also held a bit of anger.

  “Someone else can deal with this.” He listened again, noting Britt’s retreat. She curled her upper lip in a snarl and mouthed, “We’re done.” Then she turned on her heel and marched in the direction of the master bedroom. If he was lucky, she’d lay down with her feet propped up. If he wasn’t, he’d find her packing all the clothing that had migrated into his closet.

  Cooper went looking for her after he finished the call. He found her in the shower. He hoped that boded well for him and his side of the argument. He tapped on the bathroom door and raised his voice to be heard over the running water. “I have to go deal with a situation on one of the rigs. I’ll be gone a couple of hours.”

  Time enough for her to think things through and maybe see his side of the situation. He got no response. “Will you...” He stopped, biting back what he wanted to say—will you be here when I get home? His next thought wasn’t much better but he asked anyway. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”