In front of a large window sat a playpen, surrounded by stuffed animals and the kind of primary-colored blocks and chubby toys Lola played with when she’d been a baby.
“This is nice,” he said.
Outside, the rain fell harder.
Inside, his heart pounded when Steph removed the black velour jacket she’d been wearing to reveal a surprisingly low-cut tank that showed off toned arms and even a peek of belly.
“Thanks.” Tugging at her shirt, she tossed the jacket over the back of a white armchair. “There were a lot of things Michael and I still wanted to do—mostly landscaping, but…” Darting into the kitchen, she returned moments later with a dish towel, daubing at her face and throat. “I got wetter than I’d thought.”
When she offered it to him, he shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Want something to drink? Eat?”
“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’m good.” As soon as the rain cleared, he was out of here. Standing next to Steph, in Michael’s home, he had never been more keenly aware of the fact that the two of them together would be a disaster. Sure, it was peaceful around here now, but once her girls were home, this place would be a madhouse. He’d done the husband thing and failed miserably. Same CD, different track when it came to his parenting skills. He was trying to make things better, but Steph and her babies deserved more.
“It’s so quiet with Michaela and Melanie not here.” She sat hard on the sofa. “Once this storm clears, maybe I should head down to Little Rock to get them.”
“What was the original plan?” he asked, perching on a sofa arm.
“Olivia was bringing them to school in the morning.”
“Sounds like a good friend.”
“The best.” Hand to her throat, Steph glanced away.
What was she thinking? Was she as uptight about him being here as he was?
Pulling out his iPhone, he asked, “You don’t mind if I check radar, do you?”
“Please. Do whatever you need.” Eyeing her lone suitcase lying on the entry hall floor, she said, “In fact, while you do that, I’ll unpack. Once the girls are here, I’ll never find time.”
With her gone, he told himself the radar was riveting, but in truth, he couldn’t help but notice how the place smelled like her. A little sweet. Flowery. Infinitely attractive.
Steph must’ve turned on her bedroom TV, as the sound of a weather forecast drifted down the dark hall.
The longer Brady sat on his own, watching a line of severe storms blossom into a mess he had no desire to fly into, the more he wondered what the hell he was going to do. Here he was, essentially stuck smack-dab in the middle of Bumpkinville, USA, with a gorgeous old friend. Any sane guy would no doubt find that a good thing. But all it took was one look at the picture on the mantel to remind Brady that no matter how tempting Steph became, this was a look, don’t touch situation.
“I just saw radar,” she said, strolling up from behind him. “Not that I’m an expert, but looks like you’re going to be here awhile.”
“Yeah.” He’d reached the same conclusion. The storm system had been predicted to form far south of the region and not until early tomorrow.
“You’re welcome to my guest room.” She walked by him, sitting cross-legged on the couch. During the short time she’d been gone, her bra had been disposed of. She still wore the thin, white tank top and when she leaned far to her left to switch on a lamp, her breasts threatened to make an appearance.
Mouth dry, he pressed his lips tight. What the hell had he gotten himself into? “I, ah, don’t want to put you to any trouble. If it comes down to it, I can always crash on the plane.”
Her face paled.
Catching the gist of what he’d said, he backpedaled. “The dinette folds down into a decent bunk.”
She nodded, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell his one innocent statement had reminded her of her husband and the way he’d met his demise.
The harder the rain fell, the more difficult it became to find conversation.
Thankfully—at least for him—a steady dripping noise had started in the kitchen, giving them both the opportunity to inspect.
Groaning, Steph covered her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’ve known I needed a new roof for a while now, but was hoping to hold off until next summer.”
“Maybe it’ll stop.” As if his hopeful words had dared it to worsen, now, instead of there being a drip, water fell in more of a dribbled stream. “Did Michael have any tools?”
“Sure? Why?” She knelt before a bottom cabinet, removing a bowl to try catching some of the mess.
“It won’t last until summer, but how about I put on a patch that will at least stop the leak until morning when you can get someone out here to look at it.”
“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. Her one word was punctuated by a fresh roll of thunder. “Absolutely not. If you don’t get struck by lightning, you’ll catch your death of cold.”
“Tools in the garage?” he asked, already headed toward a door tucked into a corner of the kitchen that would no doubt lead that way. “A tarp, staple gun and ladder should have you fixed up in no time.”
“Yes, we’ve got all of that, but—Brady, please don’t go outside in this.” Her voice had taken on an extreme edge. As if a part of her honestly believed he wasn’t coming back. The mission was admittedly unpleasant, but the roof’s pitch was shallow and he’d always been steady on his feet.
Hand gripping the side of the open garage door, he said, “I’m touched by your concern, but I promise, I’ll be fine.”
When he turned to glance at Stephanie, he groaned at the sight of her tears.
Chapter Eight
Stephanie fought to keep hold of her composure as she listened to the sound of Brady clomping around on the roof in the middle of a thunderstorm. More than anyone, she knew just how easily promises could be broken. How good intentions had nothing to do with fate deciding it was your turn to go.
She’d made coffee, but her hands trembled to such a degree that she gave up on trying to hold the mug.
Pacing, wringing her hands at her waist, praying and praying for the lightning and thunder and rain to stop even though the storm only worsened, Stephanie was on the verge of calling 9-1-1 when the door to the garage opened and then shut.
Relief shimmered through her.
Running to him, not caring that he was dripping head to toe, she hugged him and hugged him and cried hard enough to drown out the storm, if only for a moment. “I—I was so afraid y-you weren’t coming back.”
With his wet hands, he cupped her face. “Whoa. Where’s this coming from? I couldn’t have been out there more than fifteen minutes.”
“I—I know,” she said through hiccups and sniffles, “but Michael promised he’d be back, and—”
“Are you having another panic attack?”
“No.” She vehemently shook her head. “I’m over those. Remember how great I did both ways to Seattle?”
“Yeah…but this—Steph, you’re not being rational. I suppose something could’ve happened to me, but if you think about it realistically, the odds were pretty slim.”
Even so, she couldn’t release her hold on his waist.
“Steph—” one-by-one he pried her fingers away “—you have to let go. I need to dry off, and make sure the tarp stopped the leak.”
Fighting the wave of exhaustion that followed extreme fear, she reluctantly let him go.
“I’m not Michael,” he said, wiping down his face with a dish towel he’d taken from the counter. “You get that, don’t you?”
“Of course. What? Do you think I’m certifiable?”
He paused. “No.” When she scowled, he added, “I’m just worried about you. Maybe you need to find some one to talk with. Like a professional.”
Turning away, she folded her arms tightly across her chest. “I’ve been to my family doctor, and she says this sort of thing is perfectly normal.”
“You’re right.” He backed away.
“Come on,” she said, needing out of the cramped kitchen and away from his concerned stare, “I’ll show you your room and find you dry clothes.”
“How about a hot shower?” He knelt to unlace soggy brown leather boots. The socks he peeled off formed small lakes on the linoleum floor.
“Sure.” Leading him to the hall bathroom, she handed him a clean, white terry cloth robe. “Give me all of your wet things, and I’ll wash them.”
He grunted thanks before closing himself into the hall bathroom.
A minute later, he opened the door a crack. “You out there?”
She took his clothes and retreated to the laundry room, wondering how to best get through the night. Turned out, she needn’t have worried, because by the time she finished rounding up enough dark clothes to start his load, he’d already crashed on the guest-room bed.
When her alarm went off at five-thirty, she bolted out of bed, intent on finding him, but the bed was neatly made and Brady was gone. The only proof of him ever having been in her home was a simple note, thanking her for letting him stay.
“YOU’RE THE SMARTEST ever,” Brady overheard Lola gushing into her cell phone. He’d just taken a load of towels from the drier and was now in his room, folding.
Though her bedroom door was closed, she talked loud enough that no doubt the neighbors caught her every word, as well.
It’d been a week since he’d left Steph’s house in the middle of the night. He’d felt bad about sneaking off, but he’d been rethinking his decision to fly Steph to Seattle. She clearly wasn’t ready to move on. He wanted—intended—to help her. But how?
Still in her room, Lola laughed so hard, she snorted. “Everything you said turned out to be right. Dad’s like dating this lady, and my mom’s like freaking out.”
Brady cringed.
Please, God, tell him he hadn’t heard what he thought he just had….
“No, for real, Mom was all like asking me what this lady looked like and everything, and even better, Dad was all like buying me anything I wanted. It’s great, and I—”
Abandoning the towels, Brady opened the door to his daughter’s room. “Give me the phone. Now.”
“No way.” She covered the mouthpiece. “Dad!”
“Now.” He held his hand out, palm up, directly in front of her face.
“Becky, I’ve gotta go.” Flipping her phone shut, she placed it in his hand. “There. Happy?”
“Not even close.” Pocketing the phone, he pointed toward the living room. “Step into my office. We’re going to talk.”
“I was just joking.”
If his blood boiled any harder, he’d stroke out.
When a rapid count to ten did nothing to calm him, he changed gears. “On second thought, pack up your stuff. Let’s have this conversation with your mother.”
“But it’s early,” she whined. “If I go home now, I’ll have to start my science-fair project.”
If Brady had his way, she’d be grounded for the next month. Meaning Lola and her volcano study would soon be BFFs.
“NOT ONLY IS SHE FULL OF SASS, Clarissa, but she’s manipulative.” With their daughter in her room, cleaning out the guinea pig cage she was supposed to have handled before taking off with him on Friday afternoon, Brady stood in the kitchen, his back to the counter, both hands rammed in his pockets. “She needs to be grounded for several weeks.”
His ex-wife didn’t even slow down with mincing green peppers for a salad. “You can’t ground her for more than a few days for general disrespect and dissing your new girlfriend.”
“Steph’s not my girlfriend. You knew her, too. She needed help and I was there for her.”
Clarissa’s narrow-eyed glare left no doubt as to where his little girl had picked up her knack for sarcasm. “That why you spent half of Lola’s college fund on airplane fuel, flying Stephanie out here?” She grabbed a carrot, now chopping harder.
“You know damned well that part of that inheritance included a fuel stipend.”
Still chopping, she rolled her eyes. “Seems like an awful big step on the dating ladder to me.”
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“Not even a smidge. What I am is pissed that you made the poor decision to take what was supposed to have been a special night for Lola and turned it into a make-out session.”
“What?”
“Oh—don’t even try denying it.” Annihilating a cucumber, she added, “Lola told me everything. How you and Steph left the concert and Lola had to go out looking for you once it was over, because—”
“This is B.S. Steph and I left the show for maybe fifteen minutes to grab a hot dog. Lola knew exactly where I was, and I never left the arena. So let’s add lying to her list of sins.”
“Know what I think?” Clarissa asked, knife still in hand and pointing in his direction.
“Please, enlighten me…”
Ignoring his ticked-off tone, she said, “I think you’re the one lying to cover your sin of using a night out with your daughter for a date.”
“Get it through your thick head, what Steph and I shared wasn’t a date. And so what if it had been? We both know how it played out between us, Riss. God only knows what you and my brother did in front of Lola.”
“Yeah, because you were never here. What was I supposed to do? Raise Lola by myself? But wait, even when you were here, I pretty much did that anyway.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. When I was home, I was always here for you and Lola.”
“Your body might’ve been here, but that’s the extent of it. Emotionally, you’d checked out.”
Jaw clenched, Brady struggled for the right comeback. “What else was I supposed to do? You were cheating on me with my frigging brother.”
“Face it, Brady, you were a horrible husband. Always leading a double life. You acted as if I was an imposition to your layover extracurricular activities. Once Lola came into the picture, I thought it would get better, but it didn’t. Like it or not, your actions drove me to your brother.”
“This was such a great surprise.” On a bright Sunday morning, Stephanie had parked her minivan in front of the Valley View Municipal Airport, and now hopped out, running a few feet to give Brady a hug. His 7:00 a.m. call, asking if it’d be all right for him to visit, had been as unexpected as it was welcome. It’d been a while since she’d seen him, and truthfully, she was beginning to wonder if he’d ever call again. Her friend Gabby had urged her to make the first move, but in light of the way he’d left in the middle of the night, Stephanie decided to bow out gracefully. “I thought I’d scared you off.”
“Never,” he said. “It takes a lot more than crying about late-night roof repairs to make me bolt.”
She laughed, which felt remarkably good.
“Speaking of which…” They both headed for the van. “Ever get it properly fixed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I worried about you.”
He worried? The notion warmed her.
In the van, he tossed his satchel on the floor behind the passenger seat and then played goofball by formally introducing himself to her girls. “Ladies, I don’t have a clue which of you is Michaela and which is Melanie, but regardless, I’m Brady and it’s a pleasure finally meeting you.”
Always ready to ham it up for a good-looking boy, Michaela giggled and cooed. Melanie, however, turned shy, hiding behind her stuffed strawberry squeeze toy.
“I’m glad at least one of them seems not to hate me,” he teased.
Smiling, putting the van into Reverse, Stephanie backed out of her space, eager to get started on their fun day. “Sure you don’t mind tagging along with us to the zoo?”
“It’ll be fun,” he assured. “I haven’t been in years.”
“On a day as pretty as this, it’s bound to be crowded. Lucky for us, the girls’ stroller doubles as a battering ram.”
Glancing over to see him grin, her stomach flip-flopped. Maybe it was just because they shared a confined space, but he seemed bigger than she remembered. Larger than life. Broad shoulders and a strong chest and arms capable of holding her irrational fears at bay. His dark hair was its usual rumpled mess and though sunglasses hid his brown eyes, her memory of them contributed further to her racing pulse. He might be just a friend, but he was certainly a good-looking one!
“WHAT’RE YOU DOING?” BRADY glanced up to see Stephanie hustling from the restroom. Seated on a picnic bench at a snack concession, he’d been temporarily left in charge and seized the opportunity to introduce the twins to cotton candy. Clearly by the size of their smiles, the sugar had already kicked in.
“They were hungry.”
“My friend Olivia’s a walking encyclopedia on babies, and she says sugar is a definite no-no at this age. It stays in their mouths and causes tooth decay.”
“They barely have any teeth,” he was glad to point out.
“Of course they do. You just can’t see them.”
“Uh-huh…” He fed them each another puff of pink sugar.
Still scowling, she sat alongside him on the bench, seemingly oblivious to the riot her proximity caused inside him. Being here with her and finally getting to meet the twins he’d heard so much about, brought new meaning to the word confused. When he’d last seen Stephanie, she’d seemed a bit emotional and nowhere near over Michael’s death. Not that he’d ever been one to shy from a friend in need, but with his own issues over Lola, additional drama wasn’t on his wish list. What was, however, were many more afternoons wiled away like this. On a deeper level… He couldn’t help himself. He had to see her. Make sure she was holding up. Knowing she and her girls were amazing, not even the scent of elephant poop drifting along with a light breeze could bring him down.
The Baby Twins (Babies & Bachelors USA) Page 7