His Unexpected Twins

by Carrie Nichols

  Nick opened the driver’s door to a soccer mom–style SUV and climbed in. Sticking his head out the window, he wiggled his eyebrows. “And I suppose that attractive nurse I heard about was an entertaining perk.”

  Liam’s fist tightened around his key fob and the truck’s alarm beeped. Ellie wasn’t a perk. She was...what? Some summer fun? Why did that have to sound so shabby? He wouldn’t have thought that with anyone else.

  He lifted his chin to acknowledge Nick’s departing wave and climbed into his truck. He was bushed from taking extra shifts at a part-time station, but working had helped keep his mind off Ellie. That’s the explanation he was going with. A decent few days of uninterrupted sleep and he’d be back to his old self, stop wondering what Ellie was doing. And he’d stop thinking about her honey-gold eyes, the way her hair smelled like flowers he didn’t know the name of, and stop tasting the cherry flavor of her lip gloss on his tongue. Yeah, sports highlights, breakfast and stop mooning over Ellie sounded like a workable plan.

  * * *

  Ellie drew her knees up to her chest and bounced her feet on the concrete stoop of Liam’s three-decker in the Dorchester section of Boston. A perfect example of the city’s iconic multifamily housing units, the colorful home towered above her, looking like three small homes neatly stacked one on top of the other. The large bay windows curving around the right side of the building reminded her of a castle turret. No moat, but the roots from the lone tree in front of Liam’s house had cracked and lifted the sidewalk as if trying to escape its concrete jungle. Poor tree.

  God, first a car commercial last night and now a stupid tree. She swiped at a useless tear with the back of her hand. Damn her hormones for running amok and turning her into a crier. If this kept up much longer, she’d have to learn better coping skills. Not to mention perfecting those before Liam arrived home.

  She inhaled and stretched her neck to glance up and down the quiet street. Why hadn’t she called or texted first? Just because he was completing a twenty-four-hour shift this morning didn’t mean he’d come straight home. He might stop off somewhere to eat or... She hugged her knees tighter. Or he might be with another woman at her place. She closed her eyes and swallowed against a fresh wave of nausea. What if he was bringing a woman home? After all, it had been eight weeks since their—Her chest tightened painfully as she searched for the right word to describe what they’d had. What had it been? A fling? An affair? Friendship with benefits?

  Sighing deeply, she turned her head toward the glossy chestnut-stained front door behind her. What if there was a woman in there right now also waiting for Liam to come home? She made a choking sound before turning to face the street again.

  No, there couldn’t be, because if she saw a strange woman on her front porch for thirty minutes, she’d open the door and demand to know what was going on. However, it would serve her right for not calling ahead if there was another woman. She’d have to laugh it off and say something like, “I was in the neighborhood and...”

  “Yeah, like he’s gonna buy that,” she muttered. Heck, Meg hadn’t believed her lame excuse when Ellie had asked about Liam’s work schedule. Curiosity had been evident in Meg’s expression, but for once she didn’t meddle. Not that it mattered, because Ellie wouldn’t be able to hold Loon Lake gossip off for very much longer. She could tell the people she worked with were already getting suspicious by the looks they gave her.

  She sighed and rested her forehead on her knees. Short of abandoning her family, friends, job, future plans and everything she held dear in Loon Lake, swallowing her pride to confront Liam was inevitable. Of course, showing up with no prior notice might not be the best way to begin this particular conversation. Lately her head had been elsewhere, but she needed to do this in person. This wasn’t something that could be handled in a text or even a phone call.

  The low rumble of a truck engine alerted her and she sat up and braced her shoulders as a late-model gray pickup turned onto the street and slowed. Liam. And he was alone. Thanking whatever lucky stars she had left, she stood and shook her legs to straighten her jeans.

  Liam maneuvered his truck into a parallel spot two houses away. She swallowed hard as he shut off the engine. The door slammed shut.

  “Here goes nothing,” she whispered, and stepped away from the front stoop.

  He walked around the back of the truck and she drank in all six feet two inches. Still dressed in his uniform of navy blue pants and matching shirt with the red and bright yellow Boston Fire Department patch, he looked as though he’d just stepped off a beefcake charity calendar. The only things missing were his turnout pants with those sexy red suspenders. Her mouth watered at that seductive image. At least something other than nausea was making her mouth—

  “Ellie?”

  “It’s me,” she said with forced brightness and a fake smile.

  He frowned. “Is something wrong? Meg, the kids...or you? You haven’t—”

  “No. No.” She waved her hands in quick, jerky movements. Scare the poor man, why don’t you? Yeah, she should’ve warned him of her visit but what would she have said if he’d asked why she was coming? For all she knew, he’d moved on from this summer. Unlike her. “Everyone is fine. Sorry. I should have called ahead but...”

  He lifted his arms and embraced her in a welcoming hug. She threw her arms around him, gathering strength from his solid warmth. Wait...was he sniffing her hair? His arms dropped away before she could decide and she let go, despite the desire to hold tight. No clinging. She was an adult and could take care of herself. This trip was to deliver news. That’s all.

  She glanced back at the front door. No outraged woman bursting out demanding an explanation. One less thing to fret about. A small victory but she’d take it. “I, uh... I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  He draped an arm over her shoulder, gave her a quick shoulder hug and let go. “Nah, I just got off work.”

  “I know. I mean... I checked with Meg before I came.” She scuffed the toe of one red Converse sneaker against the concrete. Doing this on his front porch was not an option. She sighed and motioned with her head toward the house. “You gonna invite me in, McBride?”

  He pulled out his cell phone. “Sure, Harding, just let me tell the Playboy bunnies inside to exit through the back.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Getting them to hide your porn stash is more like it.”

  “Ouch.” He pocketed his phone with a devastating grin, then motioned for her to go onto the porch ahead of him.

  “I won’t take up too much of your time.” Just long enough to change your whole life.

  On the porch, she stood to the side so he could unlock the door. He smelled faintly of garlic and tomato sauce. “You on kitchen duty?”

  “Why? Do I smell like an Italian restaurant?” He lifted his arm, sniffed his sleeve and laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, the wide grin deepening those adorable grooves on either side of his mouth.

  Ellie’s toes curled. Score one for her newly heightened sense of smell. Except she didn’t need to go where his sexy laugh and her rioting hormones wanted to take her. This trip wasn’t about that. And once she told him why she’d come, he wouldn’t be interested, either. “You never did bring me any cannoli from that Italian bakery you told me about.”

  “Mike’s?” His light blue eyes flashed with mischief. “Sorry, Harding, but even if I’d gotten some, believe me, they would not have made it all the way to Vermont in the same truck as me.”

  God, but she’d missed him. She was such a sucker for that teasing glint in his eyes, but nevertheless she made a disparaging noise with her tongue. “McBride, it’s a three-hour drive.”

  “Exactly,” he said with a firm nod and a wink. “Sorry, but you’ll have to make do with frozen.”

  She gave him a playful shoulder punch before following him into the inner hallway. A stairway led to the
upper units on the left and the entrance to the ground floor unit was on the right. Liam unlocked his door and pushed it open, lifting his arm so she could scoot under. No sexy heels today to add an extra three inches to her five feet three inches.

  Flooded with morning sunlight from the large bay windows, the living room was standard, no-frills bachelor fare, with a brown distressed leather couch and matching recliner facing a giant flat-screen television with an elaborate sound system. Two empty beer bottles, a pizza box and wadded-up napkins littered the coffee table along with an array of remote controls. A sneaker peeked out from under the couch. The sunny room, even the clutter, was like a comforting arm around her shoulder and it warmed her. She could do this.

  He cleared his throat. “Sorry about the mess.”

  “It’s a wonderful space. I love these windows. They give you so much natural light.” She set her purse on the couch.

  “Thanks. Meg says if I had some taste, this place could be great.” He tossed his keys on the coffee table and glanced around. “She calls my decorating style the ‘under arrest’ method...everything lined up against the walls as if waiting to be frisked and handcuffed.”

  Ellie laughed, picturing Meg chastising him. “Sisters.”

  A new and unfamiliar awkwardness rushed in to fill the silence. Had sex messed with their friendship? Had he moved on? It was not like they’d made any promises to each other or anything. Ellie rubbed the pad of her thumb over her fingers and swallowed another, more urgent, wave of nausea.

  “I guess you’re—”

  “Would you like—”

  Bitterness coated her tongue, making it curl in warning. If she didn’t get to a bathroom—stat—she was going to throw up all over Liam’s glossy wood floor. She covered her mouth with her hand, barely managing to gag the word, “Bathroom?”

  His brow furrowed as he turned and pointed. “Down the hall. First door on the left.”

  She stumbled into the bathroom, slammed the door and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. Hugging the bowl, she threw up the breakfast she’d convinced herself to eat before driving to Boston. Yuck. It would be a long time before she could eat oatmeal again...if ever.

  Well, there was one bright spot to this whole debacle. At least he hadn’t had a woman with him.

  * * *

  Pacing the hall outside the bathroom, Liam calculated ambulance response times against how quickly he could drive her to Brigham and Women’s Hospital in midmorning traffic. Listening to Ellie being sick brought back memories of his ma spending hours puking in the bathroom after endless rounds of chemo. The word cancer blocked his field of vision like flashing neon. No, that was silly, Ellie had been in perfect health eight weeks ago. God forbid, but what if she was in Boston for an appointment at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute? No, Meg would have said—

  He flung the door open with such force it banged against the wall and bounced back, hitting his arm.

  Ellie sat hunched over the bowl and he knelt down beside her. “My God, Ellie, what’s wrong? Should I call paramedics? Or I could—”

  She held up her hand and croaked out, “No,” before the retching began again.

  He pulled her hair away from the porcelain with one hand and rubbed her back with the other. Things he could’ve—should’ve—done for his ma but hadn’t because he was busy burying his head in the sand, convinced she would beat the cancer. His chest tightened, but with the ease born of practice, he shoved unwelcome emotions aside. He refused to fall apart. If he could run into a smoke-choked inferno, he could handle this. Right? “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She flushed the toilet, sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He reached up and grabbed a towel off the sink. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She wiped her mouth and hands before giving the towel back. “I’m okay now.”

  A chill ran through him and he searched her face as if he would find an answer there. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded vigorously and began to rise. He tossed the towel aside, put his hand under her elbow and helped her up.

  “May I?” She motioned toward the sink.

  He sidestepped to give her a little more room to maneuver, but she was pale and sweating so he was going to be a jerk and stay close, even if he had to crowd her personal space. He didn’t want her passing out on him. She turned on the faucet, captured water in her cupped hand and rinsed her mouth. He leaned past her for the discarded towel and mentally kicked himself for not going to Vermont to visit her. Why had he fought his own instincts to call or text her on a daily basis? Yeah, that wouldn’t have made him look needy or anything.

  She splashed water on her face and he handed her the towel. After she dried her face, he offered his bottle of mouthwash. She glanced from the uncapped plastic bottle in his hand and back to him, a frown creasing her brow.

  He shrugged. “What? I lost the cap. Swig it.”

  “You’re such a guy,” she muttered.

  “And I’m sure you meant that in the kindest possible way.” He grinned, relaxing because the bantering was familiar, comfortable, easy to handle. That was his Ellie and—Wait. What was this “his Ellie” stuff about?

  She rolled her eyes but raised the bottle to her lips.

  Folding his arms across his chest, he watched while she rinsed her mouth and spit into the sink. Now that her skin had lost its previous pallor, she looked more like the Ellie he’d left in Vermont, the healthy one. His friend. The one he just happened to—

  He shifted his stance and turned his thoughts away from Ellie’s eyes and upturned nose with the light smattering of freckles. He’d put himself back out there in the dating world soon and life would return to normal. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

  “Do you mind?” She bumped him with her hip. “A little privacy, please.”

  She also had freckles on that hip. What are you doing? Thinking about Ellie’s skin was not the first step in getting back to normal. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  Those honey eyes widened. “Really? You’re talking food after my little display?”

  Damn she was right, but he needed something to do. Standing around feeling helpless was not something he enjoyed. He needed to be productive. “Hmph, coffee then.”

  She shuddered.

  What the heck? Ellie loved her morning coffee. Now she was scaring him. “Since when don’t you like coffee?”

  She glared at him. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe since I just threw up what I had this morning.”

  Yeah, that was a lame question, but he hated not knowing what was wrong. “Fair enough. What would you like?”

  “Got any decaf tea?”

  Unfolding his arms, he stepped away. “I think I still have some from...”

  “From who?”

  “From Meg. The last time she was here she wanted decaf, so she bought a box.” He frowned at her sharp tone. From the moment he’d seen her sitting on his front steps, she’d thrown him off-balance. “What, Ellie, do you think there’s a woman in the closet waiting for you to leave?”

  Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t say anything. He ground his teeth. Damn, why couldn’t he just keep his big mouth shut? Because she was hiding something from him. He just knew it and he didn’t like it. Nor did he like the way he wanted to pull her into his embrace, bury his face in her soft hair and let her sweetness take his mind off the restlessness that had plagued him these past two months.

  He sighed into the strained silence, regretting his remark. Maybe if he had visited her since their time in Loon Lake, he’d know what was going on with her and there wouldn’t be this weird vibe between them. “I’ll go check and see if I have any tea bags.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” She shut the door behind him with a soft snick.

  He found the tea in a cupboard and put some water on to heat.
While he waited for the water to boil, he stuck a pod in his coffee maker. Sleep was probably out of the question so he might as well enjoy some caffeine. Why she had come was a mystery, but something told him Ellie wasn’t there to renew their friends-with-benefits arrangement. A morning filled with fantastic sex was looking less and less likely.

  Ellie appeared in the doorway as he poured boiling water into a mug with her tea bag. As always when he saw her, his heartbeat sped up. It would appear her red sneakers had a similar effect on his libido as those sexy bright blue heels from the wedding. Like that wasn’t messed up or anything.

  His gaze rose to her face to take in the pink nose and shiny eyes. His stomach tumbled. Oh, Christ, had his tough-as-nails ER nurse Ellie been crying? Had he caused that with his thoughtless comment? What the hell was wrong with him saying stupid stuff like that, to Ellie of all people? She was the last person he wanted to hurt with a careless remark.

  “Your tea.” He handed her the hot mug, but what he really wanted was to shake her and demand she tell him what was going on. Or to grab her close and never let her go. Keep her safe forever. But keeping her safe was impossible because cancer didn’t respect how much or how many people cared.

  She wrapped her hands around the chipped ceramic as if warming them. “Thanks.”

  “I’m...uh...” What was wrong with him? This was Ellie and they’d talked endlessly for hours when they weren’t—hey, remember, we’re not going there. “I hope you like that kind. Meg bought it.”

  “This is fine.” She jiggled the bag up and down. “Got any milk?”

  “Let me check.” He pulled the milk out of the refrigerator and sniffed the open carton. “Yeah, I do.”

  Her sudden laughter sent a tingle along his spine. He’d missed that laugh, her unique view of the world, her friendship. Okay, that’s what was wrong with him. Ellie hadn’t been just a sexual partner like others but a true friend. Relieved to find a reasonable explanation for the way he’d been feeling, he grinned. “We can go in the living room and sit.”