“Yeah, I walked. From a marriage that was a mistake,” he muttered. The past came rushing forward, but he wouldn’t look at it. Refused to remember the pain and shock in her eyes as he left her.
“It didn’t last long enough to be classified a mistake,” she countered.
She was right about that much. Colt reached up and pushed both hands through his hair. He’d relived his decision to spontaneously get married a million times over the last eighteen months and he still couldn’t explain to himself why he’d done it. But in that wild moment in the tacky little chapel, he’d known he wanted her with him for always.
“Always” had lasted about ten hours.
Dawn eventually came and shook him out of the passion-induced haze he’d been operating in. In the glare of morning, he’d remembered at last that “forever” didn’t exist. That marriage just wasn’t in his game plan—in spite of how amazing he and Penny were in bed together.
He’d believed then, and he still did, that walking away was the right thing to do. But he would have walked right back if she’d even once mentioned the whole pregnancy thing.
“What did you think was going to happen, Penny?” He glared down at her, refusing to be swayed by the gleam in her eyes or the tilt of her chin. “Did you really see us living the suburban dream? Is that it?”
“No,” she said on a short laugh. “But—”
“But what? Would it have been better to stay married for a month? Six? And then end it? Would that have seemed kinder,” he asked, “or would it just have prolonged the inevitable?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered, pushing her hair back from her face with an impatient gesture. “All I know is, we dated, got married and got divorced in the span of a week and now you’re back claiming that I somehow cheated you.”
“It always comes back to the same thing, Penny,” he said, voice low and deep. “You should have told me.”
She blew out a breath and glared at him. “And here we are again, on the carousel of knives where we just slash at each other and nothing is ever solved.”
Colt stalked a few paces away from the bed, but he couldn’t get far, since the whole room would have fit inside his walk-in closet. He felt trapped. In the small space. In this situation. But despite the invisible chains wrapping around him tighter by the moment, he knew he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. He had children—whether he’d planned on it or not—and he had to do right by them.
He spun around to look at her and promised, “You can’t keep me from the twins.”
“You’ll just confuse them,” she told him flatly.
“Confuse them how?” He threw both hands high then let them slap back down against his thighs. “They’re babies. They don’t know what’s going on!”
“Keep your voice down―you’ll wake them up.” She glared at him and after a second or two of that heated stare, he shifted uncomfortably. “And they understand when people are happy. Or angry. And I don’t want you upsetting them by shouting.”
Colt took a breath and nodded. “Fine.” He lowered his voice because he hadn’t meant to shout in the first place. Connor was the twin with the hot temper. Which just went to show how far out of his own comfort zone Colt really was. “Confuse them how?”
“You’re a stranger to them—”
He gritted his teeth.
“—and you just pop up into their lives? For how long, Colt? How long before you tell them, ‘Sorry kids, but I’m just not father material. I’ll have my lawyers contact you about child support.’”
“Funny.” His tone was flat, his eyes narrowed and he had a very slight grip on the temper that was beginning to ice over his insides. “You can be as bitter as you want about what happened between us. But I’m not going to do that to them.”
“And how do I know that?” She winced as she straightened on the bed. “You walked away from a wife. Why not your kids, too?”
“It’s different and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. That’s the problem.”
The last of the daylight pearled the room in a warm, pale haze that floated through the open curtains and lay across the oak floor like gold dust. As the old house settled down for the night, it creaked and groaned like a tired old woman settling in for a nap. There was a baby monitor on her bedside table that crackled with static and then broadcast one of the babies coughing.
Colt jolted at the sound. “Are they choking?”
“No,” Penny said with a sigh. “That’s just Riley. When she sleeps she sucks so hard on her pacifier that she gurgles and coughs.”
“Is that normal?” Frowning at the monitor, he felt completely out of his element here. How would he know what was normal for an infant or not? It wasn’t as if he spent all that much time with any of the new King babies. Seeing them at family parties hadn’t really prepared him for a lot of one-on-one time with two infants.
“Yes. Colt—”
He heard the fatigue in her voice. Saw it in her eyes and the pale color of her skin. They were going around and around and not gaining ground. There would be plenty of time to sort out what they were going to do. And when he argued with someone, he wanted them at full strength. Penny clearly was not. He didn’t want to worry about her, but a slender thread of concern drifted through him anyway.
“Let’s just get you changed, all right? We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”
“Oh, boy,” she murmured. “There’s something to look forward to.” Then she winced and tugged at the snap on her jeans. “But I’m so uncomfortable, I’m willing to risk it.”
“What do you need?”
“My nightgown’s in the top drawer of the dresser.”
Nightgown.
And she’d be naked underneath it, of course. Even as he felt his body stir and tighten, he had to wonder how he could be so furious with a woman and want her so badly all at the same damn time. Still grinding his teeth, he moved to the dresser, opened the top drawer and discovered there actually was a cure for lust.
“This? Really?” he asked, holding up the most hideous nightgown he’d ever seen.
She frowned. “And what’s wrong with it?”
Shaking his head, he gave her the fire-engine-red sleep shirt that was stamped with oversized, mustard-yellow flowers and hot pink ribbons.
“Other than the fact that it looks radioactive? Not a thing,” he mused. “It’s probably great birth control. One look at you in this thing and the guy in question runs for the hills.”
“Very funny.” She snatched it from him. “It was on sale.”
“For how many years?” It was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen and he blessed her for having it. Maybe the truly fugly nightgown would help him to not think about what was under it.
“I didn’t ask you to critique my wardrobe.”
“You could ask me to burn your wardrobe,” he offered. “Or at least that part of it.”
“Could you just—” She pushed one hand through her wild, wavy fall of red hair and pushed it back over her shoulder. “Never mind. I’ll do this myself. Just...go away.”
“Stop being so stubborn.” He wanted to get this over and done with. “I’ll help you with the nightgown, but I’ll close my eyes to protect my retinas.”
She glared at him. “Are you going to help me or just make snide comments?”
“I can do both. Who says men can’t multitask?”
“God, you’re irritating.”
“Nice that you noticed.”
He was noticing plenty himself. Too much. Such as the fact that she was trembling—and it wasn’t because she was cold, or even furious. She was feeling just what he was. That raw, nerve-scraping need that had pushed them into bed together in the first place. It was something he’d never found with anyone else. Something he’d told himself many tim
es that he just wasn’t interested in. Apparently, though, his body had missed that memo.
Frustration practically wafted off her in waves and Colt told himself he really shouldn’t be enjoying giving her a hard time so much. But he was owed some payback, right? Besides, it kept his thoughts too busy to entertain other things.
“I changed my mind. I can get undressed myself.”
“No, you can’t. Not yet, anyway.” He stepped up in front of her and when she drew back, he said, “Relax, Penny. I’ve seen it before, remember?”
God knew he remembered. Every square inch of her body was burned into his brain, despite how often he had tried to erase it. “We’re both grownups, and believe it or not, I do have some self-control. I’m not going to jump a woman just out of the hospital.”
Probably.
She whipped her hair out of her eyes to look at him. “You wouldn’t be doing that anyway.”
“Is that right?” If she knew just how hard and tight his body was at the moment, she’d be sounding a lot less confident.
Meeting his gaze, she reminded him again, “You’re the one who walked away from me, Colt. So why would you want to go back there?”
Why indeed?
Because, damn it, he’d wanted to go back there ever since the moment he’d walked away from her in Vegas. Hell, it’s one reason he had walked away from her. She made him think too much. Feel too much.
To cover his thoughts he said, “Trust me, once you’re wearing that very effective male-repellent nightgown, you’ll be safe.”
“That’s a relief.” She didn’t sound relieved, though.
“Come on, let’s get this done.” He moved closer, took the hem of her T-shirt and waited while she pulled her arms from the sleeves. Then he tugged it up and over her head. Her hair fell like red silk, settling over her shoulders. And if he kept his gaze on her hair, he’d be fine. Yeah, it was touchable but not nearly as hard to resist as the lace bra cupping her generous breasts. He drew in a shallow breath and waited while she unhooked the front clasp, then shrugged the bra off.
Modestly, she crossed her arms over her breasts, but the action was pointless. The quick look he’d gotten was enough to make him hard again, and he had the feeling that he’d better get used to that particular kind of misery.
To help himself as much as her, Colt tugged the nightgown over her head and took a step back as she pushed her arms through the sleeves and drew the hideous fabric down over her body. He’d called that nightshirt a man repellent—apparently he was immune.
She toed off her sneakers, then reached under the nightgown to unsnap her jeans. Once she’d pulled the zipper down, Colt stepped in again. “Lie back. I’ll get them off you.”
She did, but she braced herself on her elbows and kept a wary eye on him as he drew the denim down and off her long, well-toned legs. Smothering a groan, he tried not to think about those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. Tried not to remember the sound of her sighs or the flex of her muscles as she writhed beneath him. And he was failing.
Miserably.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deliberate step back. “Finished.”
“Thanks.” Nodding, she eased into a sitting position and tugged her nightgown down over her thighs.
Good thing, too, he told himself. Because he was on the ragged edge of control, and that edge was crumbling underneath his feet. The anger still simmering inside him didn’t seem to have an effect on the pulse of desire that kicked into high gear whenever he was close to her. Hell, the woman could still turn his body to stone without an effort.
Thankfully, his heart had turned to stone ten years ago, so that particular organ was in no danger.
“I think,” Penny said, drawing him back to the moment at hand, “I’ll just lie down for a minute or two.”
“Yeah. Good idea. Do you still drink that disgusting green tea?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Yes.”
He gave a shudder but said, “I’ll make you some.”
Colt left her staring after him and got out of her bedroom as quickly as he could. No point in torturing himself, watching Penny stretch out across a bed he really wanted to join her in. Frowning at his own train of thought, he reminded himself that he and Penny were done. The only reason he was here now was to see the twins. To make sure they were safe. Being cared for.
When he left her room, he fully intended to go straight to the kitchen. Instead, he stopped outside the twins’ bedroom. He laid one hand on the old-fashioned brass knob and felt the cool metal bite into his skin. His heartbeat jumped into a gallop and every breath came fast and shallow.
He felt the way he had the first time he’d gone paragliding in the Alps. That wild mixture of excitement, dread and sheer blind panic that made a man so grateful to be back on the ground when it was all over, he wanted to kiss the dirt. But just as on that long-ago day, there was no turning back. He had to jump off the side of that mountain. Had to take this next step into a future he never would have predicted.
Opening the door quietly, he stepped inside. Colt heard them before he saw them. Quick, soft breaths, a muffled whimper and a scooting sound as one of them shifted in their sleep. Colt scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck and walked silently across the dimly lit room. Outside, the sun was setting, casting a few last, lingering rays through a window that overlooked a tiny backyard.
Inside, there were two white cribs, angled so that the twins could see each other when they woke. There was a rocking chair in one corner of the room, shelves for toys and books, and matching dressers standing at attention against one wall. Pictures in brightly colored frames dotted the walls and at a glance, Colt could see the photos were of rainbows and parks and animals...everything that would make a baby smile.
But it was the babies he was interested in. His footsteps were quiet, and still the old wood floor creaked with his movements. But the twins didn’t react; they slept on, dreaming. Taking a deep breath, Colt steadied himself, then walked up to stand between the cribs, where he could see each of his children.
Riley wore pink pajamas and slept on her stomach, arms curled, hands beneath her, tiny behind pointed skyward. He smiled and looked at twin number two. Reid’s black hair was trimmed shorter than his sister’s. He wore pale green pajamas and slept sprawled on his back, arms and impossibly short legs spread out as though he were making a snow angel. Both of them were so beautiful, so small, so...fragile, they stole his heart in a blink.
He didn’t need a paternity test to be sure they were his. Instinctively, he knew they were his children. He felt it. There was a thread of connection sliding through him, binding him to each of them. Colt reached out his hands and curled a fist around the top rail of the matching cribs. His heart might be stone where women were concerned, but these babies had already stamped themselves on his soul. Each whispered breath tightened the invisible thread joining them and in a few short moments, Colt knew he would do anything for them.
But first, he had to deal with their mother.
* * *
Penny woke up, disoriented at first. A quick glance at her surroundings told her she was at home and she took a relieved breath, grateful to be out of the hospital.
“The twins!” Her eyes went wide as she realized that watery morning sunlight was creeping through her bedroom window. She’d slept all night. Hadn’t seen the babies since that one quick check the night before. Hadn’t heard a thing. What if they had cried out for her? How could she sleep so soundly that for the first time in eight months, she hadn’t heard them?
Pushing herself out of bed, she took two hurried steps toward the door before the pain in her abdomen slowed her movements to a more cautious speed. She went to the twins’ room and stopped in the doorway. The cribs were empty. Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs she could hardly breathe. P
anic shot through her still-sleep-fogged mind.
Then she heard it.
A deep voice, Colt’s voice, sounded low, gentle, and her initial bout of panic edged away to be replaced by a wary tenderness.
Penny followed his voice, moving slowly, cautiously, through the house that had been hers for the last two years. The house that was still filled with memories from her own childhood. The house where she’d made a home for her kids.
At the kitchen doorway, she paused, unnoticed by the three people in the room. The twins were in their high chairs, slapping tiny palms against trays that held gleefully mushed scrambled eggs. Their father—Colt—sat opposite them, talking, teasing, laughing when Reid threw a small fistful of egg at him. Penny’s heart ached and throbbed. She used to dream about seeing Colt like this with the twins. Used to fantasize about what it would be like for the four of them to be a family.
And for one quick moment, she allowed herself the luxury of living in that fantasy. Of believing that somehow, the last eighteen months had been written differently. That Colt belonged here. With them. With her.
“Are you going to come in or just stand there watching?”
She jolted as he turned his head to spear her with a look. Guilt rushed through her and the fantasy died a quick, necessary death. What was the point in torturing herself, after all, when she knew that Colt didn’t want her? All he wanted was her children. And the twins, he couldn’t have.
“I didn’t think you knew I was here.”
“I can feel your disapproval from here.”
She flushed again and moved into the room. When the twins spotted her, there were squeals of welcome and her heart thrilled to it. She went first to one, then the other, planting kisses and inhaling that wonderful baby scent that clung to each of them. She took a seat close by and watched as Colt continued feeding the babies, dipping a spoon into peach yogurt again and again, distributing it between the twins, who held their mouths open like baby birds.
DOUBLE THE TROUBLE Page 6
