“Know what I think Mom meant?” Lola asked, the whole of her concentration focused on outlining a cookie manger. “That you’re a really nice lady, because being with you is more fun than Girl Scout camp—and that’s pretty amazingly fun.”
“Thank you.” High praise from an eight-year-old. Seeing this new-and-improved soft side to the little girl opened Stephanie’s heart to her even more. It was hard enough being married to a pilot, she couldn’t imagine the confusion and heartache of having one for a father.
“You’re even more fun than Free Fridays at school when we get to raid the craft closet and make anything we want.”
“I don’t know,” Stephanie said, trying to ignore suddenly stinging eyes and a knotted throat. “Making anything you want sounds pretty incredible to me.”
“It is,” Lola said with a grand nod, “but you can’t eat friendship bracelets or picture frames.” After that observation, she took a huge bite of her latest creation—a pink-and-green reindeer, smiling while she chewed. “So is a floozy like the same thing as a princess or angel? And you never did tell me what’s shacking up?”
“STEPH, I’M SORRY.” FROM his bed in the Miami airport Marriott, Brady groaned into the phone. “I never wanted you to find out about that.”
“Well, I did,” she said, sounding as if she was slamming dishes into the cabinet. “And it was mortifying. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stuck with Lola’s assumption that a floozy is a good friend and shacking up means that you have slumber parties with ice cream and pizza.”
“Damn,” Brady said with a whistle. “That’s some pretty impressive fibbing.”
“Like you did such a great job of explaining? When I asked what you said, she told me nothing, but that your face turned all red and splotchy.”
Clearing his throat, he managed, “Red, maybe, but I don’t do splotchy.”
She laughed.
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
He rearranged a pillow to tuck under his neck.
“In the meantime, your daughter is an adorable minx who’s interested in everything and has become a talented baker and babysitter.”
“She gets along with the twins?”
“Famously. They’re inseparable.” Her smile rang through her tone, filling him with deep satisfaction. “You should see Lola hauling them around. At first, I was worried, but they laugh and giggle and play epic games of peekaboo.”
“Thank you for showing her such a good time.” He wished he could give Steph a hug. He missed her. Her sugary scent and laugh and habit of speaking whatever happened to be foremost on her mind.
“It’s been my pleasure. I’ll be sorry to see her go.”
“Is she excited about Christmas?”
“Does Santa carry a few extra pounds around his waist?”
Chuckling, Brady said, “I take it she’s driving you nuts with anticipation?”
“Not at all. I love it. It makes me excited for when my girls are old enough to help wrap gifts and decorate the tree.”
Closing his eyes, Brady imagined the scene. The twins as chubby toddlers with Lola showing them the ropes. Teaching them all sorts of tricks like searching out their mother’s hiding spot for gifts and sneaking bites of holiday sweets before family and guests arrive.
“When are you getting back?” she asked.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “And I’m glad. It feels like coming home.”
“Y-you’ll always be welcome.” Was there hesitancy in her tone? “Everyone should have one place in the world where they feel they best belong.”
“But? I sense you’re holding back more.”
Laughing, she admitted, “You’re starting to know me too well.”
“So? Out with it.”
“I was just going to say that as much as the girls and I love having you here, your true home is with your first family. Lola loves you so much, Brady. Please be careful with her heart. At the moment, she’s good, but if you were to do something nutty—say, like spending too much time here and not enough with her—I’m afraid she may never get past the sense of betrayal.”
“Betrayal?” He clenched his fists. “You’ve got to be kidding? So Clarissa marries my brother, has full custody of my kid and lives happily ever after, while I do nothing but dote on Lola for the rest of my life?” Rubbing his suddenly throbbing forehead, he backpedaled. “That came out wrong. It’s not that I don’t want—and plan—on taking great care of Lola, but is it too selfish to want a little more for me?”
“No, but—”
“When we were at the zoo and Fall Festival and the skating rink, I got this longing to belong to a family—my own family—that struck with enough intensity to actually hurt my chest.” He was no doubt crazy for admitting any of that, but it was almost Christmas and he was alone in a hotel room, he was too road-weary to hold anything in. “Sometimes I feel like my whole life has been a screwup. But then I found you again. And since then, I have purpose beyond just treading water with Lola. I’m not sure how or when, but, Steph, I’ve fallen in love with you. I want to be a real dad to not only her, but your girls. I want a second chance at being a good man for you.”
For the longest time, the only sound on the other end of the line was silence. Then muffled sobs. “B-Brady, I’d like that, too, but I can’t—won’t—be the one who comes between you and your little girl. Not only that, but I’d be crazy to let another pilot into my life. You’re a hopelessly nomadic breed who—”
“I get all of that,” he said, not in the mood for a play-by-play of why the two of them as a team would never work. It was Christmas, and what he needed was hope. Good, old-fashioned, warm-your-belly hope. Not only for a better future, but a better him. “What I want to do is not dwell on all of the reasons why we shouldn’t be together—which Lord knows I’ve done enough of myself, but let’s think about how many ways we’re right. Think about the insane odds it took for us to even have been on that same flight bound for Miami. Don’t you ever get the feeling something’s going on behind the scenes? Some force greater than us?”
“I—I want to believe, but if that were truly the case, why did Michael have to die?”
Michael, Michael, Michael. As much as he’d once loved the guy, Brady was now genuinely sick of hearing his name, of constantly being compared to him and in ways, held accountable by his ghost.
Sighing, Brady sliced his fingers through his hair. “When I get back to Valley View, I want the two of us to talk—really talk. In a proper, grown-up setting. We’ve spent months calling what we share friendship, when if both of us were truthful, what we’ve really been doing is dating.”
“No, we’re just friends, and—”
He hated cutting her off, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for hiding behind labels. “Steph, I don’t mean to come off as an insensitive jerk, but face it, something more is simmering between us than mere friendship. We owe it to ourselves to figure out what.”
More silence.
“Steph? You there?”
“Brady, I—I’m not sure if I’m emotionally up for—”
“One real date.” His pulse took off at a runaway pace. “That’s all I’m asking. Think your sister would babysit?”
“MY WARNING ALARM’S SHRIEKING,” Lisa said, holding open her condo’s front door while Stephanie handled the bundled up twins in their carriers. Having volunteered to carry the diaper bag, Lola brought up the rear. The night was brutal. Clear, but cold.
Lisa’s favorite show, Project Runway, blared on her TV.
“Do you always have to be such a downer?” Steph asked low enough that Lola hopefully wouldn’t hear. Setting the carriers on the tile entry, she closed the door and took off her coat.
“Cool!” Before Stephanie could even introduce Lola to her sister, she’d dumped the diaper bag and charged off to inspect Lisa’s prized saltwater fish tank that she kept in the kitchen.
“Auntie Lisa is not a do
wner,” Stephanie’s twin crooned to the grinning girls. “She just worries about your mommy getting her heart broken into a million, cajillion pieces.” Tickling tummies until both girls shrieked, she added, “Broken hearts aren’t any fun, are they?” Lisa stood, a serious look on her face. “The last thing I want is to fight, but I’m just looking out for you. Tell me you know what you’re doing, and I’ll butt out. Promise.” She crossed her heart.
“Of course, I know what I’m doing,” Stephanie lied. She was in the dark as to where she and Brady stood.
“I hope so.” Lisa took Michaela from her. “For the sake of these two cuties, I really, really hope so.”
Lola finally wandered into the living room. “Whoa! You two look exactly the same! It’s freaky. But still cool.”
Lisa laughed, extending her hand for the girl to shake. “I think we’re going to get along just fine. I’m Lisa, and I’m assuming you’re Lola?”
The girl nodded. “Got any other cool pets?”
“Depends,” Lisa said, a touch of mystery to her voice. “Do you like really big birds?”
“Uh-huh.” Lisa had a sun conure named Ralph that she housed in front of the bay window in her home office. Judging by the size of Lola’s eyes, the girl was expecting a pterodactyl.
Grabbing hold of Lola’s hand, Lisa said, “Come with me…” Over her shoulder, she called, “Steph, get out of here. We’ve obviously got lots to do.”
“Bye, Steph!”
Suddenly choked up, Stephanie ran over to Brady’s daughter to give her a quick hug. “We won’t be back too late, okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assured. “I just wanna see the big bird.”
“SOUNDS LIKE MY DAUGHTER,” Brady said, finishing off a bottle of Merlot into Stephanie’s glass after she’d told him of Lola’s latest adventure, “she always has wanted to be a zookeeper. Lisa doesn’t have any animals I should be worried about, does she?”
“She supposedly has a black cat, but I’ve never seen it.” Stephanie laughed, and in the process, unwittingly tightened his stomach with how pretty she looked by candlelight with Dean Martin in the background, crooning about love. Even though it was barely past nine, their corner table was secluded.
Brady had gotten an earlier flight than he’d expected, and for their first official date had invited her to try a swanky new Italian place that’d opened in Little Rock. The walls were black, as were the upholstered chairs and hardwood floor. Crystal chandeliers provided just enough overhead light to see the meal offerings without being obtrusive. Framed black-and-white landscapes of Venice graced the walls while the only shots of color were plush yellow draperies, cloth napkins and the menus. As eager as he’d been to try the place with Steph, suddenly the lasagna he’d been craving didn’t sound nearly as tempting as a taste of her lips.
“I like your dress,” he said, “the blue does good things to your eyes.”
“Thanks—” she sipped her wine “—you’re looking good, too. This is the first time I’ve seen you in a suit.” Having flown into Little Rock on a commercial flight, he’d stopped off for a quick shower and fresh clothes at the B and B where he and Lola would again be staying.
“So what’s going on, Brady? Why this sudden change in plans?”
“Damn.” He fortified himself with another swig of wine. “Gotta love a woman not afraid to speak her mind.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” And in answer to her question, he was stumped. The words that had come so easily on the phone now seemed stuck at the back of his throat. “Bottom line, I’m tired of our so-called plans. I’m tired of pretending you’re just my friend when I still dream of our kiss on the beach.”
Ducking her gaze, she developed a sudden interest in the bottom of her wineglass.
“Don’t even try denying you think about it, too.”
“Yes, but—” She added fanning herself to her avoidance tactics. “That was a long time ago and you’re a pilot and I’ve already been down that road. And then there’s Lola and we’re just friends, and can you even imagine how upset she’d be to find out we actually are dating?”
Why, he couldn’t say, but the thought of tackling her list of insurmountable problems suddenly seemed like the best challenge ever. “What if we worked through all of that?”
“How?” she practically shrieked.
The couple four tables over stopped their conversation to stare.
Covering her mouth, Steph mumbled, “Sorry. Maybe I need more wine and I’ll see all of this as easily as you.”
He wagged the bottle. “That can be arranged.”
She laughed, and her smile filled him near bursting with sensations he hadn’t felt since college. Like excitement over just being with her. He found himself wanting to do anything within his power to make her happy.
“You’re awful,” she said, still chuckling.
“You’re just now figuring that out?” he asked more quietly than he would’ve liked. What was he doing? All of this had been simple when they’d only been old friends. With each visit, it was growing harder to pretend he didn’t care.
Reaching across the table, he took her hands, brushing the pads of his thumbs against her palms. “Aside from my daughter, I can’t remember what I used to spend my time on before meeting you.”
“I know,” she admitted, seeming a little short of breath. Was she feeling as much confusion as him about where this friendship was headed? “I find myself thinking about you more and more. When you’re not here, I wonder where you are.” Licking her lips, she added, “I wonder, too, if you’re thinking about me.”
Forcing air into his lungs, he didn’t know where to start. She was a single mom. Last thing he wanted was to lead her on. But then who was he fooling? He had every bit as much to lose by falling for her as she did him. What would Lola say? He had a tough enough time talking with her on his own—throw in a stepmom and two siblings? Talk about a recipe for disaster. Trouble was, Stephanie expected—and deserved—no less than marriage, and that was the one thing he wasn’t capable of giving. Knowing that, was it even fair for him to be here with her?
“Guilty,” he confessed, ignoring the voice of reason in his head. “I do think about you—a lot.”
Her smile brightened her blue eyes. “That’s good, because this wine has me thinking I might just want to try kissing you again.” Giggling, she covered her mouth. “Did I really just say that?”
He nodded. Was it a problem he wanted to kiss her, too?
“More wine?” their waiter stopped by to ask.
“We’re fine,” Brady said. He didn’t think it was right to loosen Stephanie’s inhibitions even more than he already had.
“I would’ve liked a teensy bit more,” she complained once the waiter had left. She’d already finished the glass he’d just poured her.
“I know, and I’m sorry to cut you off,” he reasoned, “but we do need to pick up the girls.”
“Later…” Her pretty pout was nearly his undoing. How easy it would be to bundle her into the car, drive to her house, and then give her exactly what she—what they both—wanted.
Easy. But not very honorable.
The jury still out on which way the night would go, he signaled the waiter for the bill.
“Oh, we’re leaving?” Trying to get her arms into her coat sleeves while still seated proved no easy feat.
“Let me help,” he said, trying to resist the urge to take her in his arms. She smelled of the pastry shop. Of homemade goodness. Cinnamon and sugar. Nutmeg and vanilla.
When the waiter finally came back, Brady handed over his Visa without looking at the meal’s total.
“Don’t pay yet,” Steph said, “I need more wine.”
“I know,” he assured, slipping his arm around her for their walk to the front door. “Next time we go out, we’ll order lots more.”
“Mmm…” She snuggled against him. “That sounds fun.”
She had no idea….
By the time they reached her house, she’d fallen asleep. He hated rousing her, but he needed the key.
Once inside the dark living room, she turned and stood on her tiptoes to slide her arms around his neck. “Finally, I get to kiss you.” Before he had time to stop her, she’d pressed her lips to his, unleashing an erotic bolt for which he’d had no time to prepare.
Softly moaning, she sighed open her lips, inviting him in. And he went willingly.
“Um,” he said, pulling back reluctantly and with a voice husky with the exquisite pain of a hard-on he feared would be with him the remainder of the evening. After flicking on the overhead lights, he said, “We should probably get you to bed.”
“I like that idea.” The twinkle in her eyes told him she had no intention of sleeping. Lucky for him, he knew that with her being such a lightweight, she’d conk out the second her head hit the pillow.
Scooping her into his arms, he carried her down the hall, stopping along the way to flip on the light with his elbow.
In her moonlit room, he set her on her bed, tugging off her coat and shoes.
“I can do it,” she argued, trying to sneak another kiss while he pulled back her covers.
“I know you can. I just thought you might like help.”
Sighing into her pillow, the sweetest smile curving her lips, she murmured, “Help’s nice. Doing everything by myself is getting old.”
“I know,” he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. On her nightstand were a series of silver-framed pictures featuring her husband. A formal shot of him in uniform. A candid wedding photo of her grinning while he fished for her garter. A casual snapshot of her sitting on his lap, kissing his cheek at what looked to be a boisterous family picnic.
“This is nice,” he said, pointing to the last pic. “Is this Michael’s family?”
She nodded. “They’re all from Michigan. That was taken at their lake house the summer before…”
“Sorry,” Brady said. “I didn’t mean to bring you down.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice childlike as she snuggled into her pillow. “I thought they would visit more to see the girls, but after Michael died, his mom fell apart. That day feels like a dream. Like it never even happened….”
The Baby Twins (Babies & Bachelors USA) Page 12