The Matchmaking Twins

by Christy Jeffries

  As he stepped out of the bathroom, he called out, “Hey, Delgado, are you supposed to use the tea-tree-and-avocado polishing mask before or after the cocoa shea-butter eye-firming cream? Oh, hey, Coop.”

  The chief of police and Delgado’s boss was leaning against the back of the pink-and-white sofa. He was midsip from a mug of hot cocoa when he choked and then pinched the bridge of his nose, probably in an attempt to keep the liquid from shooting out of his nostrils because he was laughing so hard.

  It took a lot more to embarrass Luke, though. “My clothes were wet. So it was either this robe or one of the eight hundred T-shirts Delgado keeps in her Marine Corps shrine collection. As a Navy man, I felt yellow and satin were better options.” A little friendly rivalry between military service members was expected, so he didn’t worry about Cooper taking offense.

  “Nah, Gregson, I wasn’t laughing at the robe. I was laughing at the fact that Delgado has something called cocoa shea-butter eye-firming cream.”

  “Why’s that so funny?” Carmen crossed her arms over her chest, which she’d thankfully covered up with a bright pink hoodie. Luke didn’t want anyone to witness his reaction to seeing her firm, round breasts on display again.

  “Because, Delgado,” Cooper said, still chuckling. “When I knew you in the Corps, you were one of the toughest MPs in our unit. And at the station, you’re all business and no-frills. You don’t even take creamer in your coffee. Therefore, I wasn’t expecting your cottage to secretly house a day spa.”

  “Well, guess what. I like spas. I also like shopping and watching Dancing with the Stars.”

  “Wait, those are all girl things,” Caden said before looking at his brother and pretending to stick his finger down his throat.

  Carmen rolled her eyes. “Well, I am a girl.”

  Luke tilted his head slightly to get a better view of her back curves in those yoga pants. He didn’t think anyone would ever doubt that. Or that he’d ever be able to forget it.

  * * *

  Carmen would’ve laughed at the boy’s skepticism if she wasn’t already so annoyed with Luke’s and Cooper’s teasing. It wasn’t her fault that nobody else in this town could see her softer side. Actually, that was fine as far as Cooper was concerned. She didn’t want her boss to see her as anything other than a capable officer.

  “Obviously, you’re all female,” Luke said, but she wondered if it really was all that obvious to him. “You just didn’t strike me as a girlie-girl.”

  “Come on, boys,” Cooper announced to the twins, who were all too pleased to borrow her shirts for an indefinite length of time. “Let’s go wait in my truck while your dad thanks Officer Carmen for her hospitality.”

  “Aw, man. Why didn’t you bring the patrol car?” Aiden asked.

  “Because I’m off duty,” Cooper replied as the twins followed him to the front door. “Besides, last time I let you ride in my squad car, I couldn’t get my red-and-blue flashers off for a week.

  Wait. Why was Cooper leaving her to deal with Luke by herself? What about the motto Leave No Man Behind? Did that suddenly no longer apply to her because she liked quality bath products and the color pink?

  Maybe the chief sensed the uncomfortable attraction between her and Luke and wanted to distance himself from the fact that nothing positive could come from her lusting over one of his poker buddies.

  At least the buddy in question was slightly more clothed than he had been twenty minutes ago—even if he did look absolutely ridiculous in her favorite yellow robe.

  “Listen, Delgado. Coop’s right. I should be thanking you for helping us out of the river and for letting us bombard your house like this.”

  Oh, Lord. That apologetic dimple of his should be illegal. When Luke smiled at her like that, she wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. The man was probably used to women falling all over themselves just to get a chance to help him out. Which made her wonder how many females’ houses he’d bombarded in the past, strutting around in nothing but a towel and steaming up their bathrooms with all his sexy masculinity.

  She’d never be able to use her shower again without thinking of him in it. And she really loved her shower, damn him.

  “It was no problem.” She tried to sound casual. As if what she’d done for him was nothing out of the ordinary. “You and the boys needed help. I’d do the same for anyone else.”

  His grin shifted downward and he stood a little straighter. Nope, he definitely didn’t like hearing that he wasn’t special. Well, good. She couldn’t have him thinking that he had any sort of impact on her.

  “Of course you would, Officer Delgado. You’re a regular Girl Scout.”

  She didn’t know him very well, but she recognized sarcasm when she heard it. Why was he acting like the aggrieved party? She was the one who’d just had her whole world turned upside down when he and the boys capsized upstream from her house. Seeing them floating down the cold river had scared her, but then seeing Luke wet and in all his muscular glory had been a shock to her system. So then why was he so offended?

  And why was he still standing in her living room?

  A loud horn interrupted their standoff and he glanced at the open door before looking back at her. Why wasn’t he leaving? “Sounds like the Chief is waiting for you, Captain Gregson.”

  “That’s not Cooper honking.” Luke rolled his eyes. “That’s Caden. He always does three short blasts.” Next, a long steady horn sounded. “That would be Aiden’s honk. I better get there before Coop comes to his senses and kicks them out of the truck and we have to walk back to my cabin.”

  But he didn’t make a move for the door. And then it dawned on her.

  “Oh. Your clothes.” She hustled over to the mudroom and opened the dryer midcycle. He was standing in her kitchen when she turned back to him. “The board shorts aren’t bad, but the shirts are still pretty damp.”

  “Well, I can’t exactly wear your robe home. I mean, I can, but I’d look pretty silly.”

  “Here.” She handed him his bathing suit. “Put these on and I’ll go get you another shirt. Wait? What happened to the one I already gave you?”

  “It was a little tight. I...uh...kinda tore it when I took it off in the bathroom. I’ll get you another one to replace it.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she called out over her shoulder as she headed back toward her room. “I have plenty more.”

  In fact, he could have his pick, as long as he got himself covered and out of her house. She searched her stack of T-shirts again, this time trying harder to find the biggest one. She started leave her room and then paused. She needed to allow him plenty of time to slip his shorts back on.

  Normally, she was trained to run toward physical danger. It’s what she was paid to do. But putting her emotions in the line of fire was a tactical mistake. Lord knew that if she walked in and saw him completely undressed, she’d be a goner. Or at least, more of a goner than she was now.

  “Hey,” he said, walking toward her bedroom doorway. She sucked in her breath and tried to focus her eyes on the yellow robe he was holding in his hand and not his bare torso. “The natives are getting restless out there.”

  “Right,” she said, totally embarrassed to be caught standing there like a statue. It’d been a long time since she’d had a man in her bedroom and it had been even longer since she’d been near one that made her heart flutter this quickly. Settle down, you traitorous butterflies.

  She threw him the T-shirt she’d been hugging to her chest. Her aim was a bit too high and he had to reach up to catch it. Big mistake. The muscles in his arm rippled into a well-defined bulge and stayed like that for way longer than necessary.

  It took several blinks and an infinite amount of willpower to drag her eyes toward his face.

  Whether his taunting smile was meant to mock her bad throw or to tea
se her for checking him out, Carmen didn’t know. But she certainly didn’t like it. Or her body’s reaction to him. She needed to get him out of the house.

  Instead, she let her eyes slide to the light pink puckered scar along his rib cage. “What happened there?” she asked.

  He shrugged, absently touching the scar. “I was on a mission and our plane took a couple of rounds before we could jump. I was knocked back into the cargo door and...well, let’s just say I was lucky enough that the surgeon who had to dig out the shrapnel was on board an ally ship and not working inside a POW camp.”

  “It looks fresh.”

  “It happened a few months ago. Right before I moved back to Sugar Falls. But you know what it’s like to be a soldier. We all carry our battle wounds around with us.”

  Carmen tried not to move her hands to the scar below her abdomen. Her wound hadn’t come from being a Marine, but she knew exactly what he meant.

  “What’s that right above it?” she asked. “A tattoo?”

  “Yeah. After I left my SEAL team, I decided a scar wasn’t enough. I needed a reminder of the most important moments in my life.”

  Carmen stepped closer and, while he kept his arm raised, allowing her to fully view his sculpted torso, she still had to stop herself from reaching out and tracing her fingers over the numbers. “Are they dates?”

  “Yes. The first one is the day the twins were born. The second one is the day I started acting like a father.”

  Her head shot up to meet his eyes, but before he could explain the cryptic response, another honk sounded. He slowly brought his arm down, all the while staring directly at her face—which was mere inches from his. She could feel the warmth of his breath and she wondered if he could see her pulse thumping along her neck.

  “I meant what I said, Carmen. I really appreciate you helping us out today.” He backed away, pulling on the gray T-shirt as he went. She didn’t respond, didn’t say a word, until she heard the front door closing behind him.

  At the sound of Cooper’s truck roaring out of her dirt driveway, she finally allowed herself to move. She sat on the bed, then fell backward, laying her arm across her forehead. She could barely hear her own whisper above her pounding heartbeat.

  “He didn’t call me Delgado.”

  * * *

  On a Thursday morning in late March, Carmen stood in the Snowflake Dance Academy, still surprised that there were so many women in this town who’d signed up for her cardio self-defense class. Most of them were sweaty—just like her—and a few looked zealously empowered after repeating the kickboxing moves she’d just shown them.

  Mia had been right about offering a class like this, and Carmen was learning not to be so quick to make assumptions about the locals. Unfortunately, the mental preparation it’d taken for her to organize it hadn’t been enough to steer her mind clear of its annoying habit of dwelling on Luke Gregson and his smug dimples.

  It had been almost two weeks since she’d gone all googly-eyed on him while he stood there, shirtless in her bedroom. And it wasn’t like she’d never seen a bare-chested man before. Hell, she grew up in a hot desert city with two brothers and a mess of boy cousins before joining the Marine Corps, where she was outnumbered by men four to one. But no man made her tingle like Luke did. Not even Mark, her ex-boyfriend and almost fiancé.

  Carmen felt that tightening pang where her uterus should be. She’d heard of soldiers in the war who’d lost a limb and later experienced a sort of phantom pain, and she decided the expression was just as applicable to her.

  Yesterday, she had talked to her mom, who’d delivered the not-so-surprising news that Mark and Carmen’s cousin, Maria Rosa, were expecting their first baby. But the feeling of loss wasn’t from missing her ex or from the awkwardness of her cousin being engaged to the man Carmen had once expected to marry. Her phantom pain came from knowing that she would never carry her own baby, that she was unable to give the gift of life to a child. That she’d never share the joy of parenthood with a husband.

  “Okay, ladies.” Carmen redirected her energy toward the thirteen women awaiting her next instructions. “Let’s finish with some stretches and get you out of here.”

  She grabbed a mat, wanting to focus more on her tight muscles and less on her high-strung nerves, trying to remember one of her grandmother’s favorite phrases about strength and character and being a woman. How did that old saying go? Maybe after this class she would call Abuela.

  “That’s it for today,” she called out to the group, who gave her a polite round of applause. Carmen had recognized most of the local women, like Freckles, the older and sassy owner of the Cowgirl Up Café, and Elaine Marconi, who had told everyone about the twins knocking over Scooter Deets and the chips display. At least she hadn’t completely banished them from getting slushies at the Gas N’ Mart. Probably because the woman was always hoping for any juicy bit of gossip that came into her store.

  Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. No, that wasn’t one of Abuela’s sayings. Why couldn’t she think of it?

  Just then, Kylie Gregson handed her a cold bottle of water. “I thought I was a strong woman, Carmen, but you take strength to a whole new level.”

  “Se necesita un hombre fuerte para manejar a una mujer fuerte.” Carmen’s palm shot to cover her mouth. But the Spanish proverb was already out there. “Sorry, I’d been trying to recall something my grandmother always says and it just came to me out of the blue like that.”

  “I took Spanish in high school,” Elaine Marconi volunteered. “And it does take a strong man to handle a strong woman.”

  Carmen wanted to grab the nosy woman’s workout towel and cover the pink flush she felt climbing up her cheeks. Who’d asked for Elaine Marconi’s translation, anyway?

  “What strong man are we talking about?” Freckles wiggled the eyebrows she’d painted on to match her fire-engine-red-dyed hair. Carmen loved beauty products as much as the next woman, but she vowed to limit herself to face cream and lipstick by the time she reached the older waitress’s age.

  “I wasn’t talking about a man,” Carmen protested. “Kylie and I were just talking about being strong.”

  “Oh. Well, if anyone decides they want to talk about strong men, come on over to the café,” Freckles said. “Post-workout smoothies and love advice are on the house.”

  Several other women laughed as they followed the self-proclaimed relationship guru and gathered their bags and water bottles. Carmen had heard that Freckles had been married at least four times, and rumor had it that she’d been driving up to Helena every other weekend to spend time with a former rodeo cowboy.

  Unfortunately, before the crew of ladies could make it outside, Kylie added, “Oh, Carmen. Before I forget, Drew and I have been talking about doing a remodel of our bathroom and I need some construction advice. Luke told Drew about the shower he took at your place—”

  “Hold the smoothies.” Elaine Marconi was the first one to whip back around. “I wanna hear about Captain Gregson in Officer Delgado’s shower.”

  “Luke Gregson could definitely be classified as a strong man,” Freckles said to a chorus of feminine nods and sighs.

  “No, it wasn’t...he wasn’t—” Carmen started, but Kylie jumped in.

  “Officer Delgado was brave enough to rescue my brother-in-law and his sons a couple of weeks ago when their boat capsized on the Sugar Falls River.” Kylie winked at her and whispered, “I got this,” before hustling the busybodies toward the door.

  But no matter how Kylie managed to spin the rescue story into a heroic tale of valor, there was at least one woman whose lips remained in an insolent smirk. On second thought, instead of using a workout towel to cover her blush, maybe Carmen could shove it in Elaine Marconi’s gossipy mouth. Preferably before the woman spread rumors about her misadventures with the sexy SEAL all over town
.

  Chapter Five

  “Thank God you’re finally here, Captain Gregson,” the school secretary said when Luke yanked open the front doors to Sugar Falls Elementary School. “Everyone’s in the cafeteria with Caden right now, trying to talk him down.”

  Luke didn’t bother with pleasantries or even a briefing of the situation at hand. Forty-five minutes ago, he’d been in the middle of a speech to several potential recruits at his office when he’d gotten the phone call from the school. He wasn’t sure what had set his child off, but what he’d deduced over the phone from the frantic principal was that Caden had gotten upset during the weekly assembly and, instead of returning to his class afterward, had somehow barricaded himself above where most of the children would be arriving soon to eat their school lunch.

  His heartbeat raced a mile a minute as Nana’s Oldsmobile had labored just as quickly back up the mountain. But when Luke saw Officer Delgado’s patrol unit—he knew it was hers by the “394” stenciled on the rear bumper—parked diagonally at the curb alongside a ladder truck from the Sugar Falls Volunteer Fire Department, he slowed himself to a light jog. At least there were professionals on the scene.

  Hopefully.

  When he entered the cafeteria, he saw the principal and a couple of lunch ladies wringing their hands and staring up at the ceiling. Luke followed their eyes and saw Caden, sitting on an exposed beam, tears in his eyes and his small arms wrapped tightly around the truss.