Good Lord. What was wrong with her? Had to be the exhaustion and jet-lag. Had to be. Because otherwise maybe Kylie really was just as ridiculous as everyone thought she was and that meant she might never deserve to raise the twins. That thought was just too heartbreaking to bear.
2
Once they’d gotten both the twins down to sleep, Gage took a seat across the kitchen table from Kylie, the weight of awkwardness settling on his shoulders. At least he’d managed to grab a shirt from his bedroom to put on. Not that he wasn’t comfortable walking around half-naked. He’d been in the military his whole adult life. He didn’t know what “privacy” meant anymore. It was just he’d caught Kylie staring at him a couple times and damn if he hadn’t liked it. A bit too much to be honest.
Shit. Must be the grief knocking him off kilter again. Yep. That had to be it.
“So,” he said finally when she remained quiet, staring down into her cup of coffee. “You mentioned coming back to see the twins. That’s good. I mean since you missed the funeral and all.”
She couldn’t hide her slight wince at his words and now Gage felt like even more of an ass. Bad enough he’d been grouchy as hell when he’d answered the door. And sure, it was late and he was beyond tired. He still liked to conduct himself better. He took a deep breath and tried again. “How long are you planning on staying?”
Kylie sipped her coffee and seemed to consider his question a moment. “I’m not sure yet.”
“What about your work?” Gage asked, sitting back in his chair. “The Tokyo client?”
“That’s over, like I said.” She frowned down at the tabletop. “Guess I’m here indefinitely.”
A tiny ball of tension in Gage’s stomach tightened at that. It was a free country and all and given her bohemian lifestyle he’d imagine she wasn’t one to stick to rules or schedules, but still. His mind flashed back to the reading of the will and the shock he’d felt when Tucker and Christine had given him sole custody of the twins. At the time, he’d been too overwhelmed to argue much or consider how Kylie had fit into that equation—or more precisely, why she hadn’t. One thing was certain now though. The twins were under his protection and he’d do anything to keep them safe, including keeping them out of the clutches of their crazy aunt, if necessary.
He drank his coffee and watched her over the rim of his cup letting his analytical mind do what it did best. His knack for details and numbers had served him well in his role as strategist for his SEAL team and he hoped to put it to good use now that he was a civilian too. Besides, it could soon turn into a curse if he didn’t exercise those mental muscles often. Lord knew it had cost him enough relationships in the past. Nit-picking, fighting, overthinking pretty much everything to the exclusion of his emotions. Hell, that’s what had driven a wedge between him and his last girlfriend, with disastrous results. He’d been distracted, fighting with his girlfriend for weeks about something stupid, exhausted mentally and physically. If only he’d kept sharp, kept on-task, kept them from hitting that IED in time… Then maybe his mistake wouldn’t have cost the lives of two of his squad mates.
Gage’s chest squeezed with guilt and grief once more and he gritted his teeth and inhaled deep. Dammit. This was getting him exactly nowhere. He didn’t like surprises and it was far too early in the morning and far too late to dredge up the past again. He set his mug on the table and glanced up at Kylie again. Despite her messy, wavy hair and crazy clothes, she was undeniably lovely. All creamy skin and pink, plump lips. Her exotic patchouli scent drifted past him again when she shifted in her seat and Gage was forced to admit there was something about her he found attractive. Really attractive.
Not that he planned to act on those feelings at all. Women were a distraction he couldn’t afford.
The last time he’d given into that, it had cost him everything.
Now he had the twins to consider too and their welfare came above everything else.
Still, he didn’t want to be a complete dick and toss her out on the street either. So, he came up with what he thought was good compromise. “Well, if you need a place to crash for a couple of days, my sofa’s available. I’d let you have the guest room, but the babies are in there now, so…”
He congratulated himself working in a deadline into his invitation. A couple of days. She’d mentioned staying indefinitely, but that was a no-go where he was concerned. Having her hanging around here, bonding with the twins, messing up what order he’d managed to establish in his life post-military, was not going to happen. Even if it was nice having an extra set of hands around to help with feeding and diaper changes. Images of her on the sofa with little Maya flashed into his head. She’d been good with the babies. A natural. Maya had quieted instantly in Kylie’s arms and Brennan had seemed equally enraptured when she’d helped put him to bed right before joining Gage in the kitchen. So, he’d enjoy her help for a couple of days then send her on her way.
With that in mind, he stood and dumped what was left of his coffee down the drain. The last thing he needed was more caffeine to disrupt what little sleep he got that night. “I’ll, uh, just grab some bedding from the closet so you can get set up on the sofa.”
“Thanks,” she said, her forlorn tone following him hallway and causing a buzz of awareness in his blood. Which was bad. So, so bad. As Gage sifted through the linens in the closet, he couldn’t help thinking he was suddenly in more danger here in his own home than he’d ever been in the worst sniper fire.
* * *
“Thanks,” Kylie said again a few minutes later when Gage returned with her bedding. At least he’d covered himself now, thank goodness. She was up for some male eye candy as much as the next woman, but tonight she felt way too vulnerable and Gage seemed way too strong and tempting for her comfort. She took the stack of sheets and blankets from him and walked into the living room, as much to put some distance between them as to get herself set for the night.
He followed her, of course, so she concentrated on tucking the sheets beneath the couch cushions and not the way his shirt outlined the sculpted muscles of his chest or how his scent—soap and sandalwood—seemed to wrap around her like a fuzzy layer of security. Which was insane. She’d just met the guy. Well, okay. She’d met him before at her sister’s wedding, but that didn’t really count. They’d shared one dance and a toast and that was it. Besides, she’d been dating someone else at the time and hadn’t been interested in anything more with the handsome best man.
Not that she was now either. She was here to size Gage up as a parent and figure out why Christine had left him the twins without even telling her. That was it.
You already know the answer to the second one.
She punched the pillow he’d given her with far more force than was necessary before throwing it onto the end of the sofa. Ever since she’d been diagnosed with endometriosis at nineteen, her sister had treated her with kid gloves. And yes, Kylie had grown up always talking about how she wanted to have a big family of her own one day. She loved kids. The fact she couldn’t have any of her own now was hard to deal with, of course, but it wasn’t a reason to exclude her from anything related to babies.
Isn’t it?
A familiar lump of sadness clogged her throat before she swallowed it down hard. Her last serious boyfriend had certainly thought it disqualified her as long-term relationship material. God, if she closed her eyes she could still hear Jeff’s words the day he broke up with her, the day her life and future had changed forever. At first, when she told him she couldn’t have children he’d tried to act like it didn’t matter, that having kids of his own someday wasn’t a big deal, but that hadn’t lasted long. Eventually, Jeff had sat her down and told her that he just couldn’t tie himself to someone who would never get pregnant. That memory was still like a knife to her heart, stabbing deep. Forget adoption, forget everything else they’d had together.
No kids, no relationship. The end.
Her sister had apparently thought Kylie was too broken and
defective to be a good mother to the twins as well. Maybe they were right. Maybe if she hadn’t told Jeff. Maybe if she’d gone down to Mexico to have those experimental treatments she’d read about on the Internet that were supposed to increase fertility, she wouldn’t be alone right now. Maybe…
No. She shook her head and turned to find Gage still watching her with that too-perceptive dark gaze of his. Ugh. Why did it seem like he could look into her very soul with those bottomless eyes of his? Then again, it could just be the jet lag making her act like a fool. Feeling far more defensive than she liked, Kylie crossed her arms and frowned at him. “What time do you get the twins up in the morning?”
“Whenever they wake up, I suppose,” he said, blinking at her.
“Well, that’s not good. Babies need routine. You have to get them on a schedule. Everyone knows that.” She ignored his arched brow at her snippy tone. “I’ve done a lot of research on childrearing and all the books say that—”
“I don’t care what the books say. I’m in the trenches here, day in day out. I know what’s best for Maya and Brennan.”
“Do you?” She took a step closer to him, refusing to be intimidated. “Because last time I checked, you’re a single guy with no clue what he’s doing around kids.”
“Excuse me?” He moved closer as well, the soft cotton of his T-shirt shifting over his muscled torso. “How dare you walk in here and presume to tell me how to raise my children.”
“I’m their aunt. I’m a blood relation. I should be involved in their life and in how they’re raised.”
“Like you were so involved before your sister died, huh? Remind me again where you were the day of the funeral? Wait. Oh. I get it.” He narrowed his gaze on her, a small muscle ticking near his tense jaw, his expression skeptical. “So that’s it then. I knew it. I knew there had to be a reason why you flew halfway around the world in the middle of the night to show up on my doorstep. You want the twins.”
“I want to make sure they’re safe. And figure out why my sister chose you over me.” Damn. She hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. It was just that being around him made her brain go all haywire. “So, yes. I’m here to check you out. Make sure you’re a fit parent.” Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his chest before returning. “You’ve got spit-up on your shirt.”
He continued staring at her a moment, his warm breath fanning the hair around her face, close enough for her to reach out and touch him, if she wanted. Her fingertips itched to do just that, so she clenched her fists at her sides instead. Seriously. Whatever this thing was sizzling between them, she needed to get over it fast. She didn’t do relationships anymore. Break her heart once, shame on him. Break her heart twice, shame on her. Or something like that. Whatever. She didn’t need to get involved with anyone else right now except the twins. Period. Amen.
She didn’t back down. He didn’t either. It was like those old western movie standoffs, without the guns. Finally, Gage cursed under his breath and moved back away from her to peer down at the front of himself, picking at the white splotch near his shoulder.
Grumbling, he turned to head back down the hall, casting her a glance over his shoulder. “I need to take a shower.”
“Don’t worry,” she called after him, unable to resist getting in one last barb. “The twins will be fine with me. Take your time.”
“Take off with my kids and I’ll have the state troopers on your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you,” he shot back before giving her a fake, fuck-you smile and shutting the bathroom door behind him.
She wanted to yell back at him but didn’t want to wake the twins.
Instead, she stood there stewing in her rage as a multitude of great comebacks surfaced in her mind.
Typical. Always think of the best stinger after the fact.
Alone again, all her bravado vanished, leaving her aching and cold and so filled with sorrow over losing her sister that Kylie nearly collapsed to her knees. Instead she sank down onto the couch and stared at the black screen of the TV without seeing it. The sound of running water echoed down the hall and she finally summoned the energy to get up and wander down to the nursery. Without making a noise, she snuck inside and walked over to peer down at the sleeping babies.
Tears fell as she stroked their tiny heads and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Chris. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when they were born. I’m so sorry you’re gone and I never got to say goodbye. I’m so, so sorry.”
She lost track of time as she watched Maya and Brennan sleep, looking around to find the room neat, if a bit bland. All the essentials were there—changing table, supplies, a few toys, clothes. For a guy who had no track record with babies, he was clearly trying his best, taking the responsibility seriously. She felt a tiny bit of remorse for being so harsh earlier with Gage, but dammit, he’d hit too close to home with his remark about her wanting the twins for herself. Deep down inside, maybe she did. She’d come here to check on her niece and nephew and see if they really could be a permanent part of her life.
The sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom had her swiping the backs of her hands over her cheeks and stepping back from the cribs. The last thing she wanted was to let him see her crying and weak. She knew people like Gage—unenlightened, buttoned-up, anal—thought of her as some kind of new-age freak, and maybe she was. But she was also strong and smart and funny and caring.
Gage would fight her for custody, that much was clear now. And she’d fight right back.
Kylie had missed her sister’s funeral. No way in hell she’ll walk away from the twins.
Not now. Maybe not ever.
3
Later, after a few hours of sleep and a few cups of coffee, Gage was feeling a tad more human. He checked in on the twins in the nursery then did his best to clean up the living room while not waking a still sleeping Kylie.
She looked so peaceful lying there, snoring softly, her hair covering half her face, that Gage couldn’t help but smile. Truth was, he felt like an idiot for the way he’d blown up the night before. He owed her an apology for that. Letting her sleep in was partially an attempt to make amends…but part of him also didn’t want to wake her up just yet because he liked having his own space. He’d always been like that, even in the SEALs. The other guy son his squad used to give him shit about it, calling him a finicky old lady who had to have things just so. It wasn’t entirely wrong, the having things just so part anyway. It gave him a sense of control when everything else in his life was a mess. He’d never known his father, a soldier who had died when Gage was just a baby. Then losing his mom when he was only four to breast cancer had rocked his universe, and not in a good way. As a kid he’d coped as best he could, living with his Uncle Derek. The guy was responsible enough, but hardly what Gage would’ve called affectionate. It had also been rough to deal with the way he constantly filled Gage’s head with stories about how his father had been responsible for his mother’s death because he’d broken her heart, taking away her will to fight her illness. Since then, he’d internalized all of that crap, puzzling it over and over in his head and still never made peace with it.
He picked up a basket of clean onesies from the laundry room and sat down in the kitchen to fold them. Honestly, he’d never really bought into Uncle Derek’s story about everything being his father’s fault, mainly because he still remembered the stories from his mother about his dad being a hero. In fact, the reason Gage had decided to join the Navy after graduating high school was to follow in his father’s footsteps. Uncle Derek had been pissed as hell about that, thinking Gage should’ve gone to college instead because of his stellar math and science grads, but then he’d died the year after Gage was sent on his first deployment, so that was the end of that.
Gage sighed and stacked the onesies one by folded one on the table—pink for Maya and blue for Brennan—until a tiny squeak issued down the hall and he immediately snapped out of his thoughts to attention. The twins were up.
Before he could get on his feet though, Kylie sat up on the sofa, looking far too adorable for her own good, her hair sticking up all over and one side of her face red where she’d slept with it mashed into her pillow.
“What the—” she said, her sleep-roughened tone sending a blast of heat through him straight to his toes. She blinked and squinted around the room then over at him in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
Gage stood and set the laundry basket aside, giving her a bland smile. He was used to getting up at the ass crack of dawn from his time in the military. “Morning, sunshine.”
He walked into the living room and over to the toy basket in one corner, thinking having something to amuse one twin while he changed the other might be useful. Between the stuff that had been sent over from Christine and Tucker’s after the funeral and the new stuff he’d bought for the babies himself, they had enough stuff to entertain a small country. Still, when he stared at the assorted animals and rattles, he felt more than a bit overwhelmed. He’d never been good a connecting with people and the twins left him constantly at a loss.
“Try the pink giraffe,” Kylie said from behind him. “I used it with Maya last night and she seemed to like it.”
“Okay.” He grabbed the small stuffed toy then hazarded a glance back at her on the sofa. She’d managed to get herself situated now, though the neck of that floaty top of hers was hanging down on one side to reveal a creamy shoulder. Out of nowhere images of her in his arms and him running his tongue down said shoulder popped into his mind. Oh, boy.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
After taking a deep breath he headed for the nursery where the twins were now wailing up a storm. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Yes,” she said from behind him, stopping him in his tracks and making him turn around to face her. Her smile seemed to brighten the already sunlight room and it was at that moment that Gage knew he was in a world of trouble. “You do.”
Guarding His Unexpected Twins: SEAL Endgame Book Three Page 2
