The Baby Twins

by Laura Marie Altom

  "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 downer," 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…."

  When she closed her eyes, Brady was shamefully relieved. He didn't feel qualified to even comment on how painful losing her husband must've been.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, swiping his hands through his hair. What had he done? In kissing Steph again, he'd opened a Pandora's box he wasn't sure how—or, even if he wanted—to close. Their date had been his idea, but faced with all of her reminders of Michael, Brady was starting to feel like Steph's consolation prize. Hell, yeah, he wanted her in every way a man could, but he also wanted self-respect. Before taking things further, he needed her promise that she wasn't just using him as a stand-in for the man she truly wanted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Having fun?" Brady asked Lola late Christmas morning. She sat cross-legged in front of the crackling fire with the twins as her audience. Though Stephanie's house wasn't anywhere near as fancy as the one in which Lola had grown up, she looked content putting on a show with her new Barbie dolls, animatedly telling Melanie and Michaela the proper way to brush hair.

  "Yup," she said, flashing him a huge smile. "I like having little sisters. I've never been this close to babies before. They're mini-people. Only they can't do anything but pee and poo and burp and stuff. But they're still cool. I wish I could keep them."

  "They'd probably miss their mom." He sat on the brick hearth, stroking her long brown hair.

  "I know. And if I stayed here, I'd miss my mom, but my friend Becky has two moms, and she really loves both."

  Michaela grabbed a Barbie shoe and crammed it in her mouth.

  "No!" Lola took it from her. "Bad baby. You can't eat high heels, or they'll give you a stomachache." Rolling her eyes, she said to Brady, "It's very hard work watching them all the time."

  "I'll bet." It was funny how back in Seattle, Lola seemed in so many ways as if she was growing up too fast. Yet since being here, she'd reverted back to his sweet little girl. "Would you like having two moms?"

  "Sure. If I got to see you more. I like Uncle Vince, but you're my favorite."

  Was it wrong that her declaration made him happy?

  "What are you two up to?" Stephanie strolled in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a lacy white apron. She'd been cooking up a storm in anticipation of her sister's visit. Cakes and a ham and all of the trimmings.

  Standing, hands on her hips, Lola said, "I've been trying to teach the babies how to be beauty parlor ladies, but they keep eating all of the brushes."

  "Thank you for taking such good care of them," Stephanie said. "Want your dad to take over so you can help me in the kitchen?"

  "I'd like to," she said, "but Dad's not as good as me at teaching babies."

  "Hey," Brady protested, "I did all right with you, didn't I?"

  "Come on," Stephanie said, holding out her hand to his daughter. "I need help mashing the potatoes."

  "That sounds fun," Lola said, abandoning her dolls and wide-eyed pupils to play in the kitchen instead.

  Seeing Lola hand in hand with the woman who'd grown to mean so much did strange things to Brady's heart. His late-night worries over Steph still being hung up on Michael now seemed stupid.

  * * *

  "OKAY, SO HE'S CUTE, charming and funny, and Lola's a doll," Lisa whispered, having dragged Steph into the nursery while her current boyfriend, Kent, and Brady cleaned up after dinner. The babies had long since been tucked into their cribs and Lola had crashed on the living-room sofa while valiantly trying to stay awake through her new Disney DVD. "So what's the catch? Something's got to be wrong with him."

  "Nope. Perfect through and through."

  "Now I know something's up." Hand beneath Stephanie's chin, she said, "You're glowing. Everything in me is screaming to watch out for you, but maybe I'm wrong, and for once you do know what you're doing."

  "For once?" Cocking an eyebrow, Stephanie asked, "So if I'm such a loser when it comes to love, how come I've only been with two men, while—"

  "You and Brady have…" Waving her hand, Lisa said, "…you know?"

  Lips pressed into a stern line, Stephanie said, "Not that it's any of your business, but no, Brady and I haven't made love. But when we do, it's going to be amazing." If their kisses had been anything to judge by, being wholly with him would be extraordinary. How blessed she was to have found him. "So what's up with you and Kent?"

  "I don't know. He's okay, but definitely not marriage material."

  "Then why are you with him?"

  "He's fun. I'm not ready to settle down." Folding a tiny T-shirt Stephanie had left in a basket on the chair, she said, "Sometimes I think you were born married."

  "What if I was?" Stephanie folded towels.

  Leaning against the doorjamb, twirling her hair, Lisa said, "Lola's a cutie. The spitting image of her dad."

  "She told me her mom called me a floozy."

  "Ouch." Lisa gave her a hug. "Want me to tear her hair out for you?"

  Half-smiling, Stephanie said, "Sounds like a plan."

  "Speaking of which, what happens if you and Brady get serious? You prepared to take on another child?"

  Without hesitation, Stephanie surprised even her self by saying, "Yes."

  * * *

  "IT'S BEEN A PERFECT DAY." After saying goodbye to Lisa and Kent, Brady met Stephanie alongside the glowing Christmas tree. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thank you."

  "My pleasure." She returned his hug. Looking to Lola, who was still passed out on the sofa, she asked, "Want to stay here tonight? I'd hate to wake her."

  "Sounds nice. It's cold outside."

  "Let me warm you," she teased, running her hands up his back. Her touch felt so good. Like much-needed balm.

  "I almost forgot. I have one more present for you."

  "Mmm…I like gifts. Is it big or small?"

  Wrinkling her nose, she said on her way to the hall closet, "Sort of in-between. And before you get too excited, it's not that big of a de
al. Just something I snagged in an online auction that I thought you might like to have."

  "I'm intrigued." He followed her, admiring her walk. The way her hips gently swayed. She had a lushness about her that had him constantly wanting to touch.

  "You should be," she said with a hint of sass while presenting him with a sky-blue gift-wrapped box. "It's not every day you get a present like this. Come on." Taking him by the hand, she drew him into her room, shutting the door.

  "I'm liking this already," he said in his best bad-boy tone.

  Landing a light smack to his chest, she told him to behave before sitting on the rumpled bed. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?"

  "Nothing personal, but I'm kind of enjoying myself just standing here, looking at you."

  She flushed and looked down.

  "What? Don't believe me?" Joining her on the bed, he cupped her cheeks, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. He kissed her. Slow and sweet, with all of the wanting he'd held in for so long. She tasted of pecan pie and hot chocolate with mint. Of the dream he'd secretly carried of finding someone who cared for him the way he cared for others.

  He might've started the kiss, but she deepened it, making him crazy with soft mews.

  Her tongue stroking his was his undoing.

  Easing her back on the bed, he set her present aside, choosing instead to take her as his gift. Moonlight cast her in an ethereal glow, transforming her winter-pale skin and wild curls into the stuff of dreams. Kissing her throat, her collarbone, only made him want more. Undoing the buttons on her chaste, green silk blouse revealed a red scrap of a bra complete with rhinestones and sequins.

  "Ho, ho, ho," he teased, hard as a freaking rock. "Did you plan to seduce me?"

  "Maybe." Licking her lips, she admitted, "I know I've thought a lot about it."

  "Sure this is what you want?" he asked, skimming his hand along her bare abdomen. She nodded.

  "I don't have a condom."

  Laughing, she said, "Wow. Hadn't even thought of that. I sure don't have one."

  "Talk about putting on the brakes." Sitting back on his haunches, he swiped his fingers through his hair. "I feel like I'm in one of those old Road Runner cartoons, and just got blown to bits by TNT."