The Trouble with Twins

by Nancy Warren

  But she hardly had time to be shy. Seth handed her a cup of coffee, kissed her shoulder and took her place in the bathroom. Soon she heard the shower, and took the opportunity to swiftly dress in a pair of khaki pants and a sweater. The intimacy of dressing in front of him seemed too much like marriage, somehow.

  Taking her coffee out to the balcony, she stared out at the view over the golf course to the wilder forested areas. Pretending to be totally absorbed in the lofty soaring of a couple of bald eagles high above the trees, she managed to ignore Seth dressing until the rattling of keys and change told her he was pretty much done.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “There used to be a great little seafood restaurant. I wonder if it’s still there. Claire and I went once and I had the best crab chowder.” He pulled the door open and smiled at her. “Do you need a coat or anything?”

  She shook her head and forced herself to smile back. “I’ve got one in the car.” Claire. He’d mentioned her name. He was taking her to a restaurant he and his dead wife had been to together.

  While they walked through the plush corridor and waited for the elevator, he talked on about La Conner and what she’d see there, but she couldn’t take any of it in. He’d mentioned Claire’s name. Just like you would an old and dear friend. Not with anger or pain. The memory hadn’t spoiled his day at all.

  Maybe he’d been telling her the truth. Maybe he had moved on.

  “Pretty slow elevator for a brand new hotel,” he grumbled. He had his car keys in his right hand. When he extended his left to jab at the elevator call button, she was shocked by what she saw.

  “Your ring. Your wedding ring. It’s—”

  “Gone.” He regarded the naked ring finger self-consciously. “I didn’t think it would be right to wear it. With you, I mean. I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

  “Oh, Seth.” At that moment, the delinquent elevator chose to arrive, and a noisy family carrying tennis equipment witnessed a teary-eyed Melissa throwing herself into Seth’s arms and heard the words she’d once sworn she’d never utter to another man. “I love you.”

  His sad, sexy eyes glowed. “I love you, too.” And then he kissed her.

  “Should I hold the elevator?” a teenaged male voice croaked.

  “Get over here, Marvin,” his mother scolded. And in a marginally quieter tone, “They’re making up from a fight. Like your father and I do sometimes.”

  “Dad never kisses you like that.”

  I LOVE YOU. Such easy words to say. They might have been oiled, they’d slid so easily out of her lips before she could stop them. She could have kicked herself. Now the casual, weekend was spoiled.

  For once in her life she’d thrown caution to the wind and dashed off for a wild weekend—and what happened? She awoke to find herself in love. A scary kind of love that felt as deep as her bone marrow. And as permanent.

  As they strolled down the narrow main road, hand in hand, she could picture them five or ten or twenty years from now. Like one of those retirement ads on TV, she imagined her and Seth, gray-haired and lined, in a tasteful, air-brushed way, heading off into their golden years.

  She wanted to scream.

  This was supposed to be a wild, glorious, sinful, no-holds barred, maybe-I’ll-call-you-again-sometime-and-then-again-maybe-I-won’t kind of weekend. If she could take back those three little words, she’d grab them and stuff them carefully away. And the most humiliating part was that she’d said them first. Oh, he’d parroted them readily enough. What was the poor guy supposed to do with a doubles tennis team witnessing their little clinch outside the elevator?

  “Penny for them,” Seth spoke at her side.

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s what my English grandmother used to say. ‘A penny for your thoughts.’”

  “They’re not worth a penny.” She sighed. “You know, if your grandmother had put her penny in the stock market when it first opened, it’d be worth millions of dollars today. Millions. I read that in a budgeting book I borrowed from the library.” A bitter laugh shook her. “I couldn’t afford to buy the book.”

  He released her hand and his arm came round her shoulders in a squeezing hug. “It hasn’t been easy for you and the kids. I know that. But it will all change when we get married.”

  She nearly stumbled. “I thought we weren’t getting married.”

  He looked at her, puzzled, and she heard her own stupid words echo around them both. “I thought I’d changed your mind.”

  “I wish I could go back in time and deposit that penny. That would change everything.”

  “It wouldn’t change this,” and turning her to him, he kissed her. A real honest-to-goodness, toe-tingling kiss, right in the middle of the busy, tourist-crowded street.

  She tried to separate her head from her heart, but the damn thing was banging away inside her rib cage, making her light-headed. How could she possibly think straight? “I mean, there wouldn’t be any hidden agendas between us.”

  “You mean you’re marrying me for my money? I should warn you, my grandmother spent that penny.” He was teasing, but only half. She saw the serious expression in his eyes. “There’s no inherited fortune. I’m in pretty good financial shape—” he made a comical expression “—as you’d expect from your banker. But all I have is what I’ve saved and invested from my earnings over the years. We’ll be comfortable, but not jet-setters.”

  “I don’t care about that. All I want is a good life for my kids. But money always comes between us. What happens if we get married and we fight? Will you think, she only married me to get out of debt?”

  “Of course not. That’s like you thinking I only married you to make our babysitting arrangement permanent.”

  “Bingo.”

  A growl of frustration came from her right. “Sometimes I wish I could meet that ex of yours to pound his head in.”

  The idea made her so gleeful she knew she should be ashamed of herself. “You do?”

  “You picked the wrong guy first time out. It happens. He was a pig. What can I say? Some men are pigs. But not all of us. Don’t let him spoil what we have.”

  “I don’t want us to marry out of desperation. Either of us.”

  “I know desperation. I’ve been there. I could draw you a road map of the place.” His fingers traced up and down her neck under her hair, his eyes gentle and understanding. “I know this scares the hell out of you, but you must know you helped pull me out. I’d been there so long I’d forgotten I could leave.”

  “Oh, Seth—”

  “But, I don’t love you because of that…well, maybe I do in part. But only a part. I don’t love you because you’re great with my girls, but that’s part of it, too. I love you because you’re a terrific woman. Gorgeous and sexy and brave. I love you because I’m better with you than I can ever be without you.”

  “I feel that, too. But Seth, I’m scared.”

  “Trust me. Trust us. We can do this—but not on an empty stomach. Here’s the restaurant I was telling you about.”

  How like a man, she thought to herself with a smile. He could only take so much intimate talk, then he needed a breather. Truth was, she kind of needed one herself. They were starting to unpack their emotional baggage, one bag at a time.

  And before she knew it, he’d used his breather to settle them into the restaurant and they were sitting at a table drinking coffee and eating fresh salmon omelets.

  And discussing the future. From the way Seth was talking, it seemed they were engaged.

  Every time the little quavery voice in her head sounded its fearful alarm, she’d put a determined smile on her face and remind herself of Seth’s words. She did trust him. And she did love him.

  And of course, he must love her. He’d told her so, hadn’t he? Not only with words, but with little thoughtful gestures and the expression in his eyes when he glanced her way. He’d loved her with his body deep into the night. So, she quelled the voice that said it w
as too soon. He wasn’t ready.

  Seth was the answer to all her hopes and prayers. She was delighted. Really, she was.

  Maybe she was having so much fun being single and enjoying an attractive man simply for sex that she wasn’t quite ready to be a wife again.

  “Eat up. You’ll need your strength for tonight,” he taunted as she pushed the last bit of food around her plate.

  She felt absurdly shy at his words and the images they immediately conjured in her mind. She might have blushed, except that the blood all seemed to have rushed to the intimate parts of her body. “Didn’t you get your fill last night?”

  “Sweetheart, with you I don’t think I could ever get my fill. Just to help you get in the mood, I’ve booked you a full massage and I don’t know what else. Some kind of spa package.”

  “You did? For when?”

  “This afternoon. I promised you a decadent weekend, didn’t I?”

  She gave a soft chuckle. “I’m really starting to like being your weekend mistress.”

  “Well, it’s a short-term assignment.”

  She blinked.

  “Until we get married.”

  Abandoning the last of her breakfast, she sipped the fresh coffee their waitress had poured. “I don’t know. We shouldn’t rush into anything. This is a big step for both of us. We’re not impulsive people.” She glanced up with a wry grin. “Look how long it was before we made love.”

  He reached for her free hand and ran a thumb over her knuckles. It was his left hand. The mark where his wedding ring had rested for so long was a shade paler. He’d only taken off one woman’s ring a day ago. Was he really ready to replace it? “How do you see this playing out, then?”

  When she raised her eyebrows, he continued. “Do I kiss you in front of the kids? Do we have complicated sleepover arrangements every time we want sex? Are you going to be okay with Matthew and Alice seeing me come out of your bedroom some mornings but not others?”

  Slowly, as the impact of his words sank in, she shook her head.

  “I know it’s a little soon for us. I get that, but I can’t see another way for us to be together other than to get married. And I don’t think either of us is going to be comfortable carrying on in front of the kids unless we’re married.”

  She did want to marry him, and she knew she’d be good for him. Instead of arguing, as part of her knew she should, she gave in.

  “I may become your wife, but promise me you’ll always treat me like your mistress when we’re alone.”

  He chuckled, deep and sexy. “I don’t have a lot of personal experience with mistresses—”

  She cocked a severe eyebrow at him.

  “Okay. I don’t have any. But I think a man’s mistress is supposed to do anything he tells her to—of a sexual nature, I mean.”

  “Really?” Little shivers of excitement raced up and down her spine. “Like what?”

  He gave her a few ideas, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and follow his instructions explicitly.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HE FELT AS EXCITED AS a kid at Christmas. After escorting Melissa to the door of the day spa—where they seemed to do a lot of very expensive things with mud and seaweed—he’d dashed to his car and headed to a nice little jewelry store he’d noted earlier.

  He’d seen the trepidation in Melissa’s eyes and knew she was scared silly to get married again. To him, putting a ring on her finger was like getting a signature on a contract.

  Marriage was the answer for both of them. Now that he’d made his decision, he wanted to get the thing done. He’d push for an early wedding, too. Once they were hitched, she could get rid of that too-big house of hers and her financial burdens. He had plenty of room.

  “May I help you, sir?” asked a buxom, middle-aged woman with twinkly blue eyes behind some heavy-duty glasses.

  “Yes, I—” Now that he was here his collar felt too tight. He raised a hand to automatically loosen his tie, only to discover he wasn’t wearing a tie. Or collar. How could an open-necked polo shirt be choking him? “I’m—uh—looking for an engagement ring.”

  The woman slid the glasses off her nose and let them dangle from the silver chain around her neck. Something about the motherly way she regarded him made him breathe a little easier. “I see.”

  He got the uncomfortable feeling she did see. More than he wanted her to. “And the bride to be? Will she be joining you?” The woman squinted toward the door behind him.

  “No. I want to surprise her.”

  “All right then. Of course, you can return the ring if she wishes a different style, or—”

  “She throws it back in my face?”

  The woman’s laugh was musical and young. He found himself grinning. “I hope it won’t come to that. But, yes, we’ll take it back for any reason. Now, what did you have in mind?” She led him to a staggering display of glistening, glittering gems. All neatly paired with wedding bands. The imaginary collar tightened another notch. Absently, he rubbed his own ring finger, only recently naked.

  Was he ready for this? He remembered picking out Claire’s ring. God, he could almost hear her giggle beside him, ghostly and far away. They’d gone together and chosen the set of rings that currently resided in a safety deposit box for when the twins grew up.

  After a long silence, the woman said, “This isn’t your first marriage, is it?”

  He dropped his hands, pondered getting huffy with her, and looked up to see such a warm expression on her face that he felt a momentary urge to bury his head in her ample bosom and tell her all his problems. “No. I’m a widower.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “And the lady?”

  “Divorced.”

  “I see.” She glanced down to unlock a display case containing rows of black velvet trays, each one loaded with diamond twinsets.

  “Whew. I don’t know where to start,” he said, swallowing against the constriction in his throat.

  The woman eyed him with professional interest. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about her.”

  “Well, I love her, of course. That’s why we’re getting married.” He said it in his bottom-line voice. So there’d be no mistaking his sincerity.

  Two thin-penciled eyebrows rose. “Naturally. I was thinking more of her interests. That can have a bearing on jewelry. If she’s a plumber or competitive swimmer you’d want one kind of setting. If she’s a model or stockbroker you’d want quite another.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, between us we have four active kids. She loves to cook. And she’s building a business as a landscape designer.”

  “She’ll be getting her hands dirty, then.” The woman’s perfectly manicured hands, sporting quite a glitter of their own, fluttered over the trays and, selecting a ring, removed it and placed it on the glass display case.

  “No,” he said. “Too showy.”

  “What are her hands like?”

  “Huh?”

  “Are her fingers short and thick or long and slender?”

  “She has beautiful hands.” He flashed back to the way they’d looked trailing over his body last night, and almost groaned. “Ah, long and slender for sure.”

  “Take a look through these and see if anything strikes your fancy. The prices are all marked on the bottom.”

  He realized all at once that this was a more delicate operation than he’d foreseen. He had no idea what Melissa had worn when she was married the first time. He was determined to get something completely different. He reviewed what little he knew of Mr. Stephen Theisen and immediately figured the guy would buy something huge and flashy, and probably full of flaws. He wouldn’t care so long as it was shiny and big.

  “I want a perfect diamond,” Seth said. “Something elegant but understated.”

  From the smile the woman beamed his way, he felt like he’d passed some kind of test. She opened a small drawer and pulled out a jeweler’s loupe and a square, black velvet tray. She plucked two diamond engagement ring
s out of the lot then scanned the rest of the offerings and picked a third from another tray.

  With only three brightly winking rings in front of him, Seth felt better. She picked the first one up and squinted at it through her scope. “One very slight occlusion,” she informed him. “Really, as close to perfect as you can get in this size. It’s just under a carat. The setting is very simple, no claws or curlicues to get in the way of gardening or child-rearing.”

  He knew the moment he saw it that was the one. He pictured the diamond on Melissa’s finger, and it felt right. It wasn’t a showy ring, but it was both simple and elegant. And, like Melissa, nearly flawless.

  He studied the other two because he felt he ought to have a reasonable comparison, but he came back to the first.

  “I’ll take it,” he said.

  She polished the ring and placed it neatly in a compact box on a plush bed of black velvet.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “Oh, I do, sir. Both of you. I hope you’ll be very happy. We can alter the ring to fit, obviously, so bring her in tomorrow to size the shank properly. And, if she wants to change it…” The woman shrugged, obviously thinking if Melissa wanted a different ring than the one Seth had chosen, she must be insane.

  He gave himself a pep talk all the way back to the hotel. Melissa was good for him, good for the girls. He was crazy about her and about Matthew and Alice. He was doing the right thing.

  He was.

  Back in their room, he realized he couldn’t sit still and wait for her, so he tucked the ring into his toiletry case, left her a note and went down to the gym, where a punishing workout helped keep his body, if not his mind, occupied.

  After the workout, he sat outside on a bench, feeling the crisp breeze dry his sweat, drinking a bottle of water and staring at the ocean. So long as he stayed here, nothing changed. The minute he walked up to his room, he entered a new phase.

  He blew out a breath. That was good, he reminded himself.