“Yes.” He drew out the word, questioning, still not connecting the dots.
“They need a mother.”
His gaze locked on hers, held fast. “Is that what this has all been about, Miranda? You think I want you in my life so my kids will have a mother?”
“No,” she whispered. “Not exactly.”
“Then what? Do you think I fell in love with you because you handle responsibility well?”
“No, but…”
“But nothing, Miranda. You know me better than that. I may not be the best father in the world, but I’m learning. And I have no intention of handing off my responsibility to my children to anyone. Not to you. Not now. Not when we’re married. Not forty years from now when they all have kids of their own.” He paused to consider. “Well, maybe then. There has to be some limit to the statutes of parenthood.”
Her knees felt as if they were melting as she looked up at his dear smile. “We’re getting…married?” she asked in a breathy voice.
He smiled then, slowly, dearly, and her heart softened with a buttery hope. “Someday. When you’re ready. When I’ve managed to convince you that I’m crazy in love with you and plan to stay that way the rest of my life.” His hand came up to cup her chin, his eyes promised her joys she hadn’t even known she wanted. “When you’re finally comfortable with the thought that sharing responsibility is a positive experience, especially when it means sharing a life—and a bed—as well.”
She wasn’t sure yet, but her instincts told her he had an excellent point. “I never learned how to share,” she said, relaxing her face against his wonderful, warm palm. “At least, that’s what Ainsley’s been telling me.”
“It’s not too late.” He bent forward and kissed her lightly but thoroughly. “That’s the beauty of it, Miranda. It’s not too late. We have all the time we need, but not a moment to waste.” He kissed her long and passionately, and she began to realize that love came with its own responsibilities, that sharing it was a challenge and a blessing. Sometimes it needed lots of attention and sometimes not as much. Sometimes laughter, sometimes tears. She had done that once. Alone. Now what she wanted more than anything was to do it again…with Nate. They would write the happy ending to her story together.
“I love you,” she said when the kiss ended.
He gathered her close against him, nuzzled her hair. “You know the best thing about this?”
“You’re going to get a lot of new shirts?”
“That,” he agreed. “And knowing that one day, a few years from now, the children will be grown up and living their own lives, and I’ll have you all to myself. I won’t have to share you.”
She pulled back, but not too far. She was never going that far again. “What if we decide we want more children?”
“Then, I suppose, the sharing will continue a little longer. But I warn you, twins run in our family.”
“Really?” she teased. “Mine, too.”
“Does that make us a perfect match?”
“You’ll have to ask Ainsley about that, but I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes.”
“And you, Miranda? What do you say?”
She drew back, smiled up at him. “I say…you should take off that shirt.”
He reached for the buttons. “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off this shirt. It’s a pretty bad stain, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she agreed, reaching up to help him. “I’m afraid it’s going to have to soak for a long time. You may not get back to the coffeehouse for hours. Do you think Nick will be able to manage without you?”
Nate began stripping off the shirt, his smile edging up to a grin. “A dose of the real world will be good for him. Besides, he has the kids there to help.” He handed her the shirt…which she promptly tossed across the pool table.
Her hands slid across Nate’s muscled chest, delighted in his soft intake of breath, thrilled when his hands came up to capture hers and hold them close. “Don’t you think that’s a little too much responsibility for him? He’s still a child, himself.”
“It’s about time he grew up.” Nate whispered a kiss along the curve of her ear. “And about time you got some club soda on that shirt, don’t you think? I know you’re thinking about it.”
He was right. Try as she might, the stain was on her mind. But a woman could change her mind. Miranda knew she had options and the one in front of her was so much more important. Not to mention enticing. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I have a plan.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
She smiled, slid her hands up and around his neck, pulled his lips down to hers. “Let me show you,” she whispered.
Then she kissed him, and Nate, demonstrating a remarkable knack for knowing when to start sharing the responsibility, kissed her back.
As plans went, Miranda had to deem this one a complete success.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6898-5
THE MATCHMAKER’S SISTER
Copyright © 2004 by Karen Whittenburg Crane.
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