The Matchmaking Twins

by Christy Jeffries

  Running up to her back porch, she grabbed a long rope, then raced to the water’s edge. She didn’t have to keep her eyes peeled for long when she counted three people in bright yellow-and-blue life jackets coming her way. She tied off the rope to a sturdy tree trunk along the river’s edge and threw it across the water just as the trio floated by.

  Her stomach tightened again when she saw who she’d just thrown a line to.

  “Hey, Officer Carmen,” a little towheaded boy called out as the more than capable Captain Gregson grabbed hold of the rope. Aiden and Caden were both holding on to their father, who was pulling them toward the shore.

  “We lost our boat!” The other eight-year-old smiled in excitement, as though he’d lost another tooth, not a hand-carved, custom teak watercraft.

  “How’d that happen?” she asked, trying not to stare at the sinewy muscles moving in Luke’s biceps as he steadily alternated his grip, working his way up the rope.

  Oh, to have those strong hands on her body, his arms flexing as he moved up her legs and...

  Yep. Her lady parts were definitely still alive.

  “You know, Delgado,” Luke called out, sounding frustrated but not the least bit winded, “we might get to the shore faster if you helped pull a little bit. Boys, stop wiggling.”

  Duh. She’d been standing there salivating at the poor guy, as if he was a participant in a Navy SEAL wet T-shirt contest.

  She grabbed on to the other end and put her own muscle into it. Lord, the man was as heavy as a tree trunk. Granted, he had the extra weight of his giggling and squirming sons to deal with, plus the river’s current was starting to pick up speed, creating more resistance.

  It took a few more heaves and the boys jumped off their dad and scampered up the bank, their interest diverted by some sort of amphibious creature in the shallow water. Luke took off his life vest and his wet shirt, and Carmen almost dropped to the damp pine-needle-covered earth below her.

  Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

  She looked.

  How could she not? The man had a torso that could’ve been sculpted from marble. He had muscles in places she’d didn’t know humans were capable of having them.

  “Do you have an extra towel by any chance?” he finally asked. Carmen jerked her head up, meeting his steady gaze, which she normally tried to avoid. She wished she’d tried harder this time. He was grinning at her, that little dimple winking in amusement, and she knew she’d been busted checking out the goods. But, man, were they some goods.

  “I thought you Special Forces boys were used to getting things wet.” Her hand almost flew up to cover her mouth. “I meant getting wet. In the water.”

  She had tried to be snarky, thinking that if she insulted his macho pride it would cover up the fact that she’d been eyeing him the way a barefoot woman would eye the shoe rack at a Nordstrom half-yearly sale. The resulting comment only made her seem even more like a sex-starved pervert.

  “Yeah, well it’s been a while since I’ve been exposed to anything that cold,” he said. “Besides, with this unexpected heat wave, we wore shorts because I didn’t actually expect to end up in the river with the boys.”

  “Oh, my gosh! The boys.” She turned to Aiden and Caden, who were standing ankle deep in the water, trying to catch bullfrogs and smiling through chattering blue lips. “Come on, kiddos. Let’s go inside and get you in a hot bath to warm you up.”

  She jogged over to where the boys were and helped them get out of their soaking wet life jackets before steering them toward her cabin. She noticed Aiden’s ACE bandage was gone and probably long forgotten. He didn’t have so much as a limp.

  “Uh, what about me?” Luke asked, still standing there, droplets of water trickling off the ridged planes of his abdomen. “Aren’t you going to warm me up, too?”

  She’d worked alongside men with oversize egos and the predispositions to flirt with a rock. But judging by the torch he was still carrying for his late wife, he was probably only making a dig at her for staring at him so blatantly. Even if he had been flirting, she knew better than to engage in any sort of banter that could lead to him thinking she was the type of woman who would welcome some tired line like that one.

  “Simmer down, skipper. There’s a stack of towels on the dryer in the mudroom. Help yourself while I get the boys in the tub.”

  “Maybe the water isn’t the coldest thing I’ve been exposed to lately.” He’d mumbled the words, but she’d heard the remark and shot him the withering look she’d perfected back when she was a Lance Corporal and the lone female in a platoon full of horny, young twentysomething-year-olds thousands of miles away from their wives and girlfriends.

  She left him standing on her back porch and, after making sure the twins were in a warm bath and had something dry to put on afterward, she went into her room to change out of the jeans she’d been wearing when she’d stepped into the water to get the kids out of their vests. Come to think of it, her blouse was a little damp, too.

  A few minutes later, when she padded out of her bedroom wearing cropped turquoise yoga pants and a plain white tank top, she found Luke in her living room, the towel he’d wrapped around his hips cinched low and tight. He was leaning against the back of her pink toile sofa; the only thing between his golden skin and the terry cloth material was the damp fabric of his shorts.

  She sucked in her breath and felt her nipples tightening into hard buds.

  “Nice, uh, outfit,” he said. But his steel-blue eyes weren’t looking her up and down. They were staring at the two points barely concealed by the thin white fabric of her tank top.

  “You know what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, knowing the gesture was made to cover herself, as well as hold herself back from him. “I think I have a shirt around here somewhere for you to use.”

  She made an about-face and hustled to her bedroom where she stared at a pile of oversize T-shirts she’d accumulated over the years. Although many of the tees were gender neutral and came from a variety of tactical units and trainings she’d participated in, she was hard-pressed to find any sized double extra large, let alone double extra sexy. She finally settled on a dark green one at the bottom of the pile.

  She’d been in such a hurry to get Luke covered up, it wasn’t until she was standing in front of him with the shirt that she realized she should’ve grabbed one for herself instead of practically exposing herself in her skimpy tank top. Again.

  “Hey, Officer Carmen,” one of the boys said from behind her. She jumped away from Luke, as though her skin was completely on fire. “Where should we put our wet bathing suits?”

  She blushed, thankful her back had been toward the bathroom door so the twins hadn’t caught her reacting so physically to their father. She needed to get them out of there. All of them.

  “Let’s put them in the dryer so you can get them back on as soon as possible.”

  “That’s okay,” Aiden said. “I like wearing your stuff. It’s soft and smells good.”

  Luke groaned when he saw his son in one of her oversize shirts. Apparently, he didn’t like his son wearing a shirt that read “My Heroes Have Always Been Marines.”

  Well, it wasn’t like she had kid-sized clothing just lying around her house. And the boys didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Caden was still pumped from winning the round of rock-paper-scissors and getting dibs on the red one with a bulldog wearing a drill instructor hat.

  “Do you guys need a ride home?” She handed over another T-shirt to Luke and walked toward the kitchen, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

  “No, but can I use your phone?” Luke asked. “Mine was in the boat when we tipped over and Cooper was supposed to meet us at the pickup point. I don’t want him worrying if he sees the canoe floating by. He can probably swing by here and give us a lift.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll just go make some hot cocoa,” she said, then handed him her cell before walking to the kitchen. Normally, she found comfort in the sunny room with its blush colored walls, dark-stained wood cabinets and oversize white farmhouse sink. But today, the ninety square-foot space was closing in on her.

  The boys followed her, and she could hear Luke making his call to Cooper and explaining where they were. She was just filling up four mugs when he walked into the kitchen, still wearing that damn towel. Too bad she didn’t have any shorts big enough to fit him. Or a cabinet big enough to hide in.

  He’d tried to squeeze into the shirt she’d given him, but it wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. “Coop said he’s still thirty minutes or so out. I hate to impose, but would you mind if I used your shower, too?”

  “No.” Was that husky voice hers? Maybe she was coming down with a cold. “Go ahead.”

  But before he could leave, Aiden spoke up.

  “Hey, Dad. Officer Carmen kinda saved us, huh?”

  “Well, she threw us the rope, but your old man could’ve done fine all on his own.”

  Macho jerk. Didn’t they teach those SEALs how to be team players? She settled her fists on her hips and lifted her brow at him, as if to challenge otherwise.

  “What? It’s not like we were in any real danger. Just past your house is that old boat dock. We could’ve pulled ourselves out there and then walked back here.”

  “You know what?” Caden took a sip of his hot cocoa. “Choogie Nguyen told us there’s this old Native American legend about a young girl who risked her life to save a brave warrior from the waterfall—you know that big one up the river? The one the town is named after?”

  Luke’s borrowed shirt was so snug Carmen saw his shoulders tense up underneath. He probably didn’t like his children thinking he needed to be rescued by anyone.

  “I’m sure lots of young girls had to risk their lives to save their tribe members,” she said before sticking her head into her pantry, pretending to look for marshmallows. Couldn’t the dryer go any faster?

  “Your friend Choogie is a know-it-all,” Luke told the twins. “People have been talking about that old wives’ tale since I came up here as a boy. You guys know you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

  Was big, tough Luke Gregson opposed to believing that a woman was capable of saving a man? Carmen was now intrigued. “What legend?”

  “Oh, it’s just some stupid nonsense that if a person rescues you from the Sugar Falls River, then you’re going to fall in love and marry them.” Luke waved his hand dismissively.

  “Ew, gross!” Aiden cried, wrapping his arms across his face.

  “You couldn’t pay me enough money to get rescued by a girl and then hafta marry her.” Caden flapped his loose red sleeves back and forth as if he could ward off the idea by making the international sign for stay back.

  “No offense,” Luke whispered to her. “The boys are still in the stage where they think girls are yucky. Don’t worry, kids. It’s probably a big hoax some lonely woman made up to trick a guy into marrying her.”

  “Humph.” Carmen looked at the ragtag trio standing in her kitchen, wearing her clothes. “More likely, it was the other way around.”

  Luke walked off to her bathroom and she leaned against the counter, drinking her hot chocolate and listening to the boys ramble on about other Native American stories and folklore. Oh, to be a kid again and to believe in all those glorious, adventurous tales. It was too bad people had to grow up and learn about the harsh realities of life.

  Like the reality that no matter what some old legend might say, nothing could ever become of her and Captain Luke Gregson. Her brain knew it. And if she could just stop thinking about him lathering up his rock-hard torso in her shower, maybe the rest of her might realize it, too.

  Chapter Four

  Luke hadn’t failed to notice that the shirt Delgado loaned him had the Marine Corps emblem on it. Or that it must’ve been made to fit someone much smaller than his six-foot-four frame. It wasn’t his fault he’d ripped it when he took it off the moment he’d closed the bathroom door. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to put the damn thing on in the first place.

  Especially not after the way he’d seen her staring at him, first outside by the river, and then inside when he’d come in wearing that towel. Officer Delgado was finally looking at him as though he was a man and not a stain on her perfectly pressed uniform. And don’t even get him started on how amazing she looked out of her uniform.

  Seeing her flushed expression, his initial desire was to lift his arms up in victory. But his next desire had been to pull her into those same arms and show her exactly how much of a man he was.

  Thankfully, his children had walked in on them and Luke was reminded of his commitment to being a better father. The boys had a special relationship with the female cop and they didn’t need him interfering and messing things up.

  So he’d grudgingly pulled the tight cotton material over his body and sat in that cozy, dainty kitchen, making small talk about old legends and trying to pretend that he was totally capable of being in the same room with a woman who’d surprised him by looking so damn...womanly.

  Seeing her with her hair down at Patrelli’s last week had been shocking enough, but then seeing her wearing that skimpy tank top in such an intimate, homey setting had melted his insides quicker than his hot cocoa melted the tiny marshmallows she’d sprinkled on top.

  He picked the ripped shirt off the wooden floor and tried to fold it before placing it on the towel rack. Carmen Delgado seemed like the type of woman who took things seriously—her T-shirts, her job, her relationships. And Samantha’s death had proved that Luke wasn’t the ideal candidate for a serious relationship.

  A chill reverberated through Luke’s body and he stepped under the hot spray of the Roman shower, a luxury he hadn’t expected her tiny cottage to have. Actually, there was a lot about Carmen Delgado he hadn’t expected.

  He stared at the array of bath products and specialty body washes before reaching for the turquoise—the most manly color option of all the bottles lining the tile shelf—shampoo and flipping open the cap to sniff it.

  Hmm. Moroccan oil sure didn’t smell too bad. As he squirted a large dollop in his palm, he caught sight of the price tag on the underside. Thirty-three dollars? For a twelve-ounce bottle of shampoo?

  That seemed like a pretty big splurge for someone living on a small-town cop’s salary. As he massaged the overpriced suds through his own short hair, Luke realized he’d used too much and worried that he might be depriving Carmen’s long, thick hair of its expensive shampoo. Those dark silky curls were definitely worth the cost.

  Luke turned the knob to lower the temperature of the spray. Fifteen minutes ago, he’d been a human Popsicle floating down the river and worried about developing frostbite on his appendages. But judging by the way his body was responding to the mere thought of Carmen in this shower washing her hair, he was getting way too heated.

  And since he didn’t want to go back out there and discuss girls rescuing warriors—or the fact that he’d needed rescuing in the first place—he took his time in the now-cool shower.

  Let’s see. What other interesting beauty products did she have in here? Coconut-mango sea salt scrub. He looked at the purpose and directions on the back of the glass jar, then rubbed the grainy texture between his fingertips. He’d spent enough time doing surf torture during trainings and maneuvers that he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to purposely cover their bodies in something most SEAL team members learned to despise.

  Between the apricot mud facial exfoliant and the rose satin shave cream, Luke was hard pressed to find something he could wash his body with that wouldn’t leave him smelling like a home garden show being held in a cotton candy factory.

  He settled on something called
Glacial Retreat Shower Mousse. Even the woman’s bath gel was distant and aloof.

  He shut off the water and didn’t hear the boys yelling or otherwise causing any problems, so it was safe to say Officer High-And-Mighty had them well under control.

  After he dried off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and took an inventory of all the small bottles of girlie potions organized neatly on the counter. He knew he should get back out there and check on the twins. Cooper would be here soon to give them a ride back to the cabin. But, besides the occasional family dinners at his mom’s house in Boise, he hadn’t been in a feminine domain since Samantha passed.

  The familiar pang of guilt started low in his gut and he took a deep breath to try to tamp it down. Drew had told him plenty of times that he needed to stop feeling so responsible for his wife’s death. That getting in a vehicle and attempting to drive when her blood-alcohol content was twice the legal limit was Samantha’s mistake.

  Yet, the reason she’d gone out drinking was his fault.

  He looked at his reflection in the mirror over the sink and ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to pat down the cowlick that had always frustrated his mother, as well as any ship’s barber whose chair he’d sat in. Drew would say that he needed to see a counselor, but Nana—if she were alive—would tell him to stop dwelling on the past and get right back into living for the now.

  Speaking of the old gal, Nana would certainly have loved the assortment of beauty products on display in Delgado’s bathroom. Luke saw a bottle labeled clarifying tonic and looked at the list of ingredients. He wondered how much it would cost to ship a case of this stuff to the guys on his team. It would be perfect for cleaning off that camouflage face paint they used during missions.

  But it was no longer his team. Or his mission. His new team was the two eight-year-olds out there and his new mission was to be present. To provide them with a solid upbringing and unwavering love.

  A lump formed in his throat and he shook it away. It was getting late and he needed to get the boys home and cook up some chow. He looked at the torn T-shirt and decided it probably wouldn’t be very appropriate to go back out there in just a towel. His clothes were still drying, so that only left the short, silk robe hanging on the hook behind the door. Thank God it was yellow. Everything else in her damn house was fifty shades of pink. For such a tough Marine and cop, Carmen Delgado sure had a frilly girlie-girl side she seemed to keep hidden. The realization made Luke want to ruffle her feathers just a little. After all, what kind of self-respecting soldier surrounded themselves with all this fancy goop? It wasn’t like she needed any of this junk, anyway.