He blocked it out and trained his eyes on Carrie, who was standing in the shallow water, waiting for Dylan to complete his one-hundred-seventy-ninth jump. She was wearing her yellow-and-white polka dot swimsuit, and his gaze lingered on the creamy bare skin of her midriff. Moving closer, he could clearly see the enticing thrust of her nipples against the wet, clinging fabric of her swimsuit.
He imagined himself lowering the bra of her suit and looking at her, touching her, putting his mouth on those sensitive little peaks. Tyler felt his body stir. To distract himself, he dove under the water and resurfaced behind the boat. Emily and Franklin laughed. They thought he was playing some aquatic version of peekaboo. Fortunately, they were too young and innocent to know that he was caught in the throes of lust for their sweet, devoted mother.
"Speedboat ride," he called out, a little desperately. He pulled the boat through the water, back and forth, faster and faster, the children crowing with delight. The exercise was a very effective antidote for lust.
"Shall we do this again tomorrow?" he asked Carrie half an hour later, as they hauled the three crying babies across the yard toward her house. The children had been incensed at being taken out of the water. All three had screamed at the top of their lungs in protest—and kept howling, all the way home.
Tyler was oddly flattered. He interpreted their reaction as the toddlers' way of saying they'd had the time of their young lives.
Carrie was amazed that he'd invited them again. She had watched him playing with the kids in the water all evening, without a single break from them. When the triple tantrum had begun, she'd expected him to flee gratefully, not issue a repeat invitation.
Her eyes were drawn to Tyler's shoulders and chest, wet and sleek with water, the dark hair matted to his skin. He held Franklin and Dylan in his strong arms, and they looked small and safe there, clinging to Tyler exhaustedly while wailing that the fun had to end. A bittersweet pang assailed her.
They carried the children inside the house and up to their room. "You haven't given me an answer, you know." Tyler pressed, setting the two little boys down. "What about swimming tomorrow?"
"You know they'd love to." Carrie knelt to dry all three wet, squirming toddlers, "But do you really want to—"
"Do you want to?" he cut in, leaning against the wall, watching her. She moved as quickly as the children, her every motion competent and efficient.
"Yes," she admitted softly. She tackled Dylan and stuffed him into his pajamas while Emily and Franklin, giggling now, threw themselves on the big stuffed panda in the corner of the room. She would have them all dressed and in bed in under ten minutes and then she and Tyler would be alone
"Okay. We'll swim after their afternoon nap tomorrow," Tyler said decisively, walking out the door. "See you then. 'Night kids," he called.
Carrie felt a hot rush of tears sting her eyes. They pooled there, burning but not falling, while she put the babies into their cribs, while she showered and washed her hair. Tyler hadn't stayed, and who could blame him for leaving?
"Do you get your kicks turning me on so you can have the pleasure of stopping me cold?" he'd asked. He thought she was a tease. Carrie thought of the wild desire and hot pleasure his kisses and caresses evoked, and she shuddered with need. No, there was absolutely no pleasure in stopping what she was coming to want more and more.
But what if she didn't stop him? What if she were to cast aside all caution and control and make love with Tyler? It was an out-of-character question about an equally out-of-character act. She'd never been one to casually indulge in sex for sex's sake. Her only lover had been Ian Wilcox, and they'd waited until their wedding night to make love for the first time because she'd wanted to be a virgin bride.
But she wasn't a virgin anymore, and Tyler wasn't the easy-to-please, placid man Ian had been. Tyler was demanding and impulsive, aggressive and confident. And sexy. She thought of his intense, green-eyed gaze, of the way he touched her, kissed her. A hot twist of excitement unwound deep inside her and the sudden acceleration of her pulses left her breathless.
Call him! urged a wild little voice inside her head. Firmly, swiftly, Carrie stifled the impulse with a harsh reality check. She was not going to have her heart broken, like poor Alexa who had confused a man's desire with a man's love. She was not going to be hurt by another loss in her life. She had her children, she had her work. She was not going to have Tyler Tremaine, and the sooner she stopped wanting him...
Carrie gulped back the unexpected sob that rose in her throat. She had to stop wanting him!
Tyler held a wailing Emily in his arms as he stood in the doorway and watched Carrie, dressed in her white nurse's uniform, drive away from the house. Alexa was trying to comfort an equally distraught Franklin and Dylan.
"Mommy!" shrieked Emily, as if her heart was breaking. Tyler felt a searing pang of empathy. He knew from firsthand experience how it felt to be a young child, crying for a mother who wasn't there.
"It's a damn shame Carrie has to leave these children every weekend," he said fiercely, speaking his thoughts aloud. "They're babies—they need their mother. They shouldn't have to be without her."
"I know," Alexa said quietly. "I think so, too."
Tyler looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected Carrie's sister to agree with anything he had to say. Alexa had been coolly aloof toward him since she'd arrived a half hour ago to find him eating hot dogs in the backyard with Carrie and the triplets. She'd barely said a word when Carrie told her about their earlier afternoon swim in Tyler's pool, but it didn't take his much-vaunted assessing skills to divine Alexa's wary disapproval.
He'd stuck around, probably because Carrie and Alexa expected him to leave and he did not want to be so predictable. He hadn't counted on the triplets' harrowing reaction to Carrie's departure for the hospital. They'd burst into tears when they saw her in her uniform and frantically clung to her, despite her attempts to comfort them. Finally, Tyler and Alexa had to pry the three loose so Carrie could get out the door. Tyler was still disturbed. It was terrible to have to wrench small children from their mother. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right!
"Let's have some ice cream!" Alexa said in an overly loud, overly cheerful voice. "Come on, let's go into the kitchen and have ice cream, right now!"
She led the still-sniffling Dylan and Franklin away from the door toward the kitchen. From her perch in his arms,
Emily looked Tyler directly in the eye. "I keem?" she asked. A shuddering sob shook her little body, and she lay her head down on Tyler's shoulder.
Tyler hugged her tight. "Emily, Mommy will be back soon, I promise. And tomorrow we'll go swimming again. We'll ride in your boat, too. Now, let's go get some ice cream before those brothers of yours eat it all up." He kept up a running commentary as he carried her into the kitchen.
Instead of putting her in the high chair, he held the little girl on his lap while she ate her ice cream. He chatted to Dylan and Franklin as they sat in their chairs, shoveling ice cream into their mouths. He noted with interest that all three used their spoons far more effectively with the ice cream than with yesterday's cereal and milk. He filed away the fact for future reference.
"Looks like the ice cream did the trick," Tyler remarked. "Nobody's crying anymore."
Alexa, sitting across the table from him, actually smiled. "I know it's probably wrong, but I bribe them with ice cream or cookies every time Carrie leaves. I hate to see them cry. I hope they get over their separation anxiety before I turn them into blimps!"
"That'll never happen. Not the way this trio expends energy." Tyler retrieved a blob of vanilla ice cream that Emily accidentally dropped on his shirt. "You watch the kids for both shifts, every single weekend Carrie works?"
Alexa nodded.
For the first time, Tyler truly appreciated all that that entailed. "That's extremely generous of you," he said thoughtfully.
Alexa shrugged. "I'd do anything to help Carrie and the babies."
"But it's quit
e a sacrifice for you to make, giving up every weekend to baby-sit. What if you have... plans?"
"You mean, like a date? No problem. I've retired from dating," Alexa replied succinctly.
Tyler laughed. "Oh, come on! You're too young to say that. And way too pretty to have no social life. You're—"
"You sound like my mother/' Alexa said dryly. "Why is it so hard to believe that I'd rather spend my weekends with my adorable niece and nephews than to pursue the dating scene?" She made it sound akin to food poisoning.
Tyler's brows narrowed. "Does your premature retirement from dating have something to do with Ryan Casr sidy?"
Alexa froze. "I don't want to talk about him. Not now ox ever."
The wounds inflicted by Cassidy hadn't yet healed, Tyler concluded. He wondered what had happened between them and how long ago. Could brother Ben's atrocious deed have been justifiable? But he knew by looking into Alexa's haunted blue eyes that this was not a subject to be pursued.
"How long has Carrie been working those back-to-back killer shifts?" he asked instead.
Alexa visibly relaxed. "She went back to work shortly after the triplets' first birthday. Mom and I didn't want her to, but Dad told her she ought to get back out into the world, that she needed the confidence that comes with being able to support herself and her family."
"That sounds awfully harsh to me," Tyler remarked, frowning his disapproval.
"Not harsh," countered Alexa. "Tough. Practical. That's Daddy. He's a colonel in the air force and his motto is 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going.' Dad genuinely wanted to help Carrie cope."
"Then why didn't he and your mother help her with the triplets?"
"They did," Alexa said. "She went to live with them right after Ian was killed, while she was still pregnant. She and the babies lived with them until three months ago, when Dad got orders to go overseas to Germany. Carrie didn't want to go with them, and she'd inherited this place from Ian's un-
cle, so she decided to move in here. She says Daddy was right about her working, that she really did start to feel more confident and independent. But I know how hard this schedule is on her. Since I work all week—I'm a physical therapist at the Hospital Center—Carrie takes care of the triplets without help from anyone, and she does a wonderful job of it. I think it's the babies and the passage of time that's helped her cope with Ian's loss."
"Do you think that she—"
"You're interested in my sister, aren't you?" Alexa interrupted. "Don't bother to deny it. I've seen the way you look at her."
"We're friends," Tyler said cautiously.
"I've seen some of your friends, last week at that party of yours." Alexa eyed him sternly. "I'm warning you now— don't even think of including my sister in that group."
And Tyler, who didn't take kindly to being lectured or threatened, and usually retaliated in kind, merely replied, "You're very loyal to your sister. But you don't have to worry about Carrie. I'm currently on sabbatical from the dating and party scene myself."
He hadn't considered such an option until now, but it suddenly seemed an excellent idea. He could use a break from his social life which had inexplicably become tedious rather than fun.
"Well, time for me to go," he said, glancing at his watch.
Emily dropped her spoon and it clattered to the floor. "No go!" she exclaimed, screwing up her face to cry again. "No, no go."
Alexa had freed Dylan and Franklin from their high chairs, and they watched their sister cling to Tyler. Suddenly Dylan crawled under the table, bellowing "No!" and Franklin began to cry.
"They don't want you to go," Alexa said, astonished. She stared from the toddlers to Tyler. "They really like you." She sounded flabbergasted at the notion.
Tyler didn't hold it against her. His popularity with Carrie's children would mystify his own family as well since he rarely paid the slightest attention to the youngest generation of Tremaines. But Dylan, Emily and Franklin were different from any other children he'd ever met. They were cuter. Funnier. More interesting. He couldn't explain why, but they just were.
"I'll stay until they're in bed," he offered. Granted, it was an unorthodox way for him to spend a Saturday night, but the evening was still young; he'd have plenty of time to do something later. And he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his little fan club,
"So he stayed and helped you put the kids to bed?" Carrie repeated incredulously. She'd arrived home from the hospital an hour ago and was sipping iced tea in the backyard with Alexa while watching the triplets play.
Alexa nodded. "Then he left. He seems to genuinely like the kids, Carrie. They're certainly crazy about him. What's been going on around here, anyway?"
"I don't know," Carrie murmured. She rubbed her temples with her fingers. She'd been awake for over twenty-four hours straight and was feeling the peculiar disorienting effects of sleep deprivation. The children were always awake by the time she got home in the morning and wanted her attention. She couldn't rush off to her bedroom and sleep without spending some time with them first.
"Tyler says he's taken a sabbatical from dating," Alexa said, glancing sidelong at her sister. "I wonder why."
"Who knows?" Carrie shrugged. Did his unsatisfactory evening with Gwenda have anything to do with it? Whatever his reason, one thing was very clear—if Tyler wasn't dating, he wasn't pursuing other women. Carrie felt a surge of glee, though she deliberately concealed it from her sister.
"I guess it does explain why he's been coming around here, though," mused Alexa. "Spending time with the triplets is about as far from dating as one could possibly get-Carrie felt deflated. "That's true," she admitted.
"But you're here, too." Alexa stared at her sister. "When he's here, he is spending time with you as well as the kids. That could mean—"
"We—Tyler and I—are just friends, Alexa."
"Mmm-hmm. That's what he said."
"Ty, Ty, Ty!" The children's voices rose into a chorus of delighted shrieks and squeals, drawing Carrie's and Alexa's attention to the hedge, where Tyler had appeared. He was wearing a pair of comfortably baggy shorts and a loose-fitting white shirt.
"I thought I heard the posse at play back here," he said, stopping to scoop up all three children in his arms. He was ridiculously pleased they'd remembered his name, which they seemed to have picked up all on their own yesterday.
He started across the yard toward Carrie but she met him in the middle of it.
The mere sight of him made her restless and edgy—hot, even. And not from the eighty-plus degrees already registering on the thermometer.
"Looks like you—uh—captured the whole posse single-handedly," she said huskily.
"Do I get a reward?" His tone was suggestive, his green eyes glittering.
Carrie felt a flush of heat suffuse her. She felt soft and weak and half-dizzy from fatigue. Hardly an ideal state; she needed to be at the peak of her wits to deal with Tyler.
"Where's your snappy comeback?" Tyler demanded. "You're rarely without one."
"Well, this is one of those rare times. I'm temporarily out of quips."
"You look exhausted," Tyler said bluntly. But the dark violet circles under her eyes gave her an aura of fragility, somehow heightening her appeal. He wondered if there were any circumstances where he wouldn't find her desirable.
"We had a wild night last night," she told him. "Four deliveries, including a set of twins and two first-time mothers in their forties."
Tyler shuddered. "Kindly spare me the gynecological horror stories." The triplets began to squirm, and he obligingly set them on their feet. They wandered off toward their makeshift sandpile in the corner of the yard.
"I came over to tell you that a truck is parked in front of your house and a couple guys are heading to your front door. Looks like they're making a delivery," he added.
"That can't be," Carrie said. At the same moment, Alexa called, "Carrie, someone's ringing the bell. Want me to answer it or stay here with the kids?"
"I'll get it," Carrie replied, going through the house to the front door. Tyler followed her. "There must be some mistake. I haven't ordered anything."
Two deliverymen stood on her front porch with a large box between them. "Bring it on in," Tyler ordered. "Take it upstairs, second room on the right."
"But—what—?" Carrie spluttered. Tyler fastened his hands around her shoulders and maneuvered her aside, out of the men's way. "Tyler, I didn't buy anything!"
"No, but I did. That's your air conditioner. They're going to install it in your bedroom window. There's a bigger model they'll install next in the living room. It has enough BTUs to cool the entire downstairs."
Carrie gaped at him. It took a full minute to regain her power of speech, but she finally managed to gasp, "You bought me an air conditioner?"
"Two of them. Room-sized window units."
"But you can't do that!"
"Why can't I? It doesn't look like brother Ben is going to come through with that secondhand deal you mentioned, and we're in the middle of a heat wave." He started toward the stairs. "I'm going to go up and make sure they're in—"
"Tyler, wait." Carrie grabbed his arm with both hands, halting him. "Ifs very generous of you, but I—I can't accept air conditioners from you!"
"Why not? An air conditioner is hardly a personal, intimate gift like lingerie. Something like that would imply-well, you know what lingerie implies. But what's an air conditioner between friends?"
"Tyler, people do not go around giving other people air conditioners! It—it just isn't done!"
He shrugged lazily. "Maybe I'll start a new trend. I've always been on the cutting edge." He glanced down at her hands, which were clutching his arm. "Are you going to let go or am I going to drag you along with me?"
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