by Robyn Neeley
Caitlin hoped so. What if he’d been brooding over some ex-girlfriend like Bethany Wilson? They had dated a couple of years out of high school. Had he jumped into Caitlin’s bed, using her to lick his wounds?
The thought had crossed her mind, but she’d never had the guts to ask Bethany about it. “You know, given our history, I was just as surprised as anyone. Let’s just say, I totally forgot about our disdain for each other.” She rested her hands on her stomach. “I guess I forgot about a lot of things that night.”
Abby reached for the bottle of sparking grape juice and refilled their glasses.
She raised her glass to Caitlin’s. “Here’s to . . .”
“. . . unplanned pregnancy?” Caitlin finished her sentence.
Laughing, Abby touched Caitlin’s plastic cup with hers. “Yes. But also—here’s to us being the hottest moms in Buttermilk Falls.”
“Here, here.” They clinked cups just as Brandon, Jason, and Emma came barreling into the kitchen. Jason looked like he’d seen a ghost while Brandon began to pace from the door to the freezer and back.
Abby grabbed her husband’s arm to stop him. “What happened up there?” She glanced over at Emma, who was holding a rectangular, robin’s-egg blue box covered in dust.
“What a pretty box.” Caitlin felt a little out of place since she was all but sure the conversation was going to go into ghosts or witches territory. Just because her babies had Stevens blood running through them didn’t mean she had to partake.
She pushed off the counter. Maybe she should go find Tom and Bridget and see if they could take her home. “I think I should call it a night. It’s been a long day. Happy New Y—”
“Not so fast.” Emma reached for her arm. “This involves you, too.”
“Me?” Caitlin asked. “What do I have to do with whatever you found upstairs?”
Emma laid the box down on the kitchen island. Caitlin eyed the exquisite pearl embroidery. She loved vintage boxes, and this definitely was one.
“The attic was empty except for this.” Emma glanced over at Caitlin. “It has your name on it.”
“My name?” Caitlin eyed the box, and sure enough, her name had been embroidered on the lower right-hand corner. Her eyes widened. Hers wasn’t the only name.
“Let me see.” Abby came in between them and peered down. “‘Caitlin & Josh,’” she read out loud. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“What’s inside?” Caitlin asked in barely a whisper.
“I didn’t open it.” Emma shook her head.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Abby touched the lid, but Emma moved her hand and slid the box in front of Caitlin. “It’s addressed to Caitlin. She should do it.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” Caitlin took a step back.
Abby gave her a nudge. “Don’t be scared. It’s probably empty.”
“Okay.” Caitlin placed her hands on the dusty box and pulled up.
Both Abby and Emma gasped.
“What is it?” Jason asked.
“Abby, do you think this is what Josh needs to perform the Batter Up spell?” Caitlin deadpanned as she held up a shimmering blue mixing spoon.
1
Nine Months Later
“Kiss and Makeup. This is Josh Stevens.”
“Josh, it’s Abby.”
Josh twisted in his office chair and glanced out the glass window that separated him from his assistant, Beverly, who gave him a sheepish shrug.
So much for loyalty. He’d specifically asked her not to patch through anyone with his DNA—or who had carried his DNA. “Hey, Abs. What’s up?”
“First, I’d like to know why your assistant is telling the family that you’ve been kidnapped by L’Oréal and are being tortured for all your lab secrets?”
He smirked. Beverly had a creative streak—that or, perhaps, wishful thinking. “No, I’m right here where I’ve always been.” He glanced around his plush corner office, his home away from home when he wasn’t working in the lower level lab. He’d risen the ranks at Kiss and Makeup—one of the largest cosmetics outfits in North America, overseeing its Long Kiss matching lipstick and nail polish line.
Last summer, he’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime. As the Senior Vice President for their newly established fragrance division, he’d worked his tail off for well over a year to launch their first perfume. Now, that signature scent was on the earlobes, cleavage, and wrists of women around the world.
He’d pulled long hours, mostly spent on perfecting the fragrance, but it had been worth it. The perfume was an instant success, and it all but guaranteed a pretty amazing bonus check at the end of the year.
“I need you to come home.”
He sat up, detecting urgency in her voice. “What’s wrong?” Though he hadn’t talked to Caitlin in almost a month, he’d gotten weekly reports from his buddy, Adam Reed, who he’d asked to pop in regularly and check on her and the kids. Between Adam and Josh’s mother, who enjoyed filling his Facebook wall with pictures of the triplets every time she jumped online, he felt like he was caught up.
He knew it was wrong not to check in with Caitlin himself, and he swore now that things were settling down at work, he’d call her more often. At least twice a month. He’d even tried last night to see how the kids were doing, but it went straight to her voicemail.
“Are the triplets okay?” he asked and held his breath.
“They’d be better if they saw their father on a regular basis.”
“Abby . . .” Josh really didn’t want to have this conversation with his little sister again. He was doing his best to accept the situation and had made a promise to Caitlin that their kids would grow up not needing a thing. He wasn’t a total asshole who would shirk his responsibility—at least, he didn’t think he was. He’d been there for their births and had stayed in Buttermilk Falls until the babies were able to go home with Caitlin.
He did want to be more involved in their upbringing. He just wasn’t sure how that would be possible when it would mean spending time with their mother. He pushed back his chair. “If you’re going to give me another lecture, I can save you the time.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“The town has a huge problem.”
Of course it did. Josh shook his head. Why did that statement not surprise him? Buttermilk Falls had always been full of too much drama for his liking, plus its preoccupation with true love and soul mate nonsense—mostly because of the women in his family and their magical skills—made him want to hurl. “What’s wrong now?”
“We found what we think is another enchanted mixing spoon at the inn on New Year’s Eve, and Emma finally tried using it last night.”
Just great. Another magical tool for the family to play with. He scratched his stubbly chin. Then again, maybe it would keep his sister and cousin preoccupied for the rest of the year and get them off his back.
Abby continued, “It keeps mixing your name in the batter.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Seriously?”
“It also moves around at night.”
“Moves? What do you mean?”
“We don’t know what’s going on, but I came in today and the kitchen was a complete mess. Containers knocked on the floor, flour and sugar everywhere.”
Alarmed, he spun around his chair. “Dammit, Abby, call the police. It sounds like a break-in. Get Ernie there immediately.” He was referring to the town’s one cop.
“No, I checked the safe and cash register. Nothing was taken.” She lowered her voice. “It was the spoon. Somehow it had gotten out of the safe last night. I know it.”
“You do realize you’re accusing a small wooden object of breaking out of a locked box and ransacking the bakery.” His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a ploy to get me to come home? Did Caitlin put you up to it?”
“Please. Give me more credit—and her, too. She’s seeing Adam, anyway.”
“What?” That inf
ormation got his attention. Adam had been happy to check in on Caitlin and the triplets when Josh asked. Not once, however, had his buddy mentioned he was interested in her.
Josh clicked on his Internet Explorer, logged in to Facebook, and scrolled down his wall. Come to think about it, Adam was with the kids in quite a few of the pictures his mom had recently posted. “When did they start seeing each other?”
“Why do you care?” She continued, not letting him answer, “You blew your chance, and honestly, I think it’s great that she isn’t pining away for you. She deserves to be happy.”
“I don’t think she ever pined for me.” The Caitlin he knew wasn’t capable of doing such a thing and certainly not for him.
“Josh, I really need you to come home.”
“What do you want me to do? Can’t you get your husband to break the spoon in half or something.”
“I don’t want to break it; I want you to bake with it. It seems to be calling for you.”
Josh raked his hand through his hair. Bake with the spoon. That wasn’t happening. Once, when he’d had too much to drink and bet Emma he could cast the spell, she accepted his dare and they went to the bakery after hours to give it a try. No dice. He’d chanted the words exactly how she had told him to with his eyes closed, but the enchanted, pink mixing spoon did nothing for him. He didn’t have the skills Emma had to whip up the spell.
His sister could only pull off the first letter of the name, but he couldn’t even do that after countless attempts. He didn’t seem to have the magic gene, which was totally fine by him. Give him a white coat and vanilla fragrance oil over an apron and vanilla extract any day.
“Please come. You don’t even have to see Caitlin and the kids if you can’t handle it.” The other end went silent for a few seconds. “Although, you should see them.”
“Listen, I really have to go, Abs. Let me think about it, and I’ll call you later.” Josh hung up. Why hadn’t Adam told him he was interested in Caitlin? It wasn’t like Josh had claim to her, or that she’d ever shown any interest in him beyond that one stupid, drunken night.
He picked up the silver-framed picture of the triplets—Lily, Cassie, and Jacob—all dressed in white for their christening. It was a gift Caitlin had sent a couple of months ago.
He hadn’t been there for the christening, their first trip to the park in the middle of town, or heard their first babbles. Adam had been there for all those things. Had Josh unintentionally brought his best friend and Caitlin together by asking him to check in on her?
Caitlin Reynolds had driven him crazy all his life, but deep down he knew those feelings were something else entirely. A skinny, broody Josh never had a chance with the high school beauty queen.
And he had to remind himself that grown-up Caitlin was just as much of a bitch. She’d insulted him for the last time last summer, and he’d vowed while downing a gin and tonic at the Buttermilk Tavern that he was done fantasizing about her. He’d go back to his life in Manhattan, screw a cute colleague or two, and forget Caitlin existed.
Just when he vowed never to think of her silky brown hair or her long, sexy legs ever again, those limbs walked up to the bar, and two hours later were wrapped around him.
Caitlin had looked so hurt and dejected that night. He hadn’t meant for things to escalate as far as they did, but as soon as he breathed in her sweet vanilla scent, there was no way he wasn’t going to take the shot he’d always wanted to take.
Still holding the picture, he walked over to his window and his gaze fell fifty floors to the sea of yellow cabs below. That infamous night, Caitlin had suggested they take a taxi to her place. Jumping off the barstool and accepting that invitation had changed his life.
* * *
Josh slid onto the barstool and ordered a gin and tonic, fixing his gaze on the television screen in the upper right-hand corner. It was only Tuesday and he’d needed a stiff drink—maybe two. Why he’d agreed to come home for an entire week was beyond him. He hated this backwater town.
His life was in New York City, not Buttermilk Falls. Any summer vacations should involve a yacht off the Hamptons, not hanging out with his parents and sister. Not that he didn’t love his family, but a long weekend was plenty of time.
And yet short enough not to run into Caitlin Reynolds.
“A shot of tequila, please, and keep them coming.” The request came from the last voice he’d expected to hear.
He glanced over to see Caitlin pull out the stool next to him and sit down in a huff. Not the woman he thought would be sitting next to him, not after their run-in this afternoon that led to typical cheap shots between them even after all these years and had put him in this bad mood. “Look, I really don’t want to do this again, Caitlin.”
“Good. Neither do I.” She slapped her purse down on the counter. “I’m just here for a drink.”
“Free country.” He slid his stool back and hopped off. “Good evening.”
“It is for your sister,” she scoffed.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“Suit yourself.” He really didn’t need her drama. He reached for his wallet in his back pocket.
The bartender set down Caitlin’s shot. With one quick flick of her wrist, she downed it and requested two more.
Josh studied the hot mess in front of him. She’d obviously been crying from the look of her puffy, red eyes. He knew he’d regret this next move tomorrow, but he sat back down and set his wallet on the bar. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She waved her shot glass in the air. “No, I don’t. Drink with me.”
Minutes later, Josh had joined her in a series of shots and, in between, learned how his sister was responsible for Caitlin’s quest to get inebriated. Apparently, Caitlin had caught some guy who’d recently dumped her kissing Abby earlier in the evening.
A few more shots later, a tipsy Caitlin leaned in. “Can I ask you a question?” She batted her eyelashes.
Josh gulped. The last time she’d been this close he was seventeen, and she had hauled off and slapped him on the football field. She’d come up to him while all her cheerleading friends sat in front of the full bleachers snickering and pointing. He assumed she was coming over to deliver one of her infamous insults and he’d beat her to it, saying she’d be washed up one day. In hindsight, he’d probably deserved that slap.
“Why do you hate me, Joshua?” She draped her arm around him, while rubbing his thigh with her free hand. “Am I really that awful?”
Josh attempted to focus, trying his best to ignore his hard-on as she continued to touch him. Her sweet scent way more intoxicating than the shots he’d just downed. “You have your moments where you’re actually tolerable.” His groin, on the other hand, wouldn’t tolerate much more if her hand inched any closer.
“Is this one of those moments?” Leaning in, she purred into his ear, “Because I really would like to see how much of me you can tolerate.”
She smashed her lips into his, but before he could deepen the kiss, she pulled away.
“Let’s go back to my place for a nightcap.” She hopped off the stool and grabbed her purse, heading for the exit. “Are you coming, Joshua?” she asked, glancing behind her.
He slid off his stool and grabbed his wallet, leaving a hundred to cover their drinks and a generous tip. God, he hoped that that answer would soon be yes.
* * *
Josh moved from his office window, glancing back down at the photo in his hand. He should have called Caitlin a taxi and taken a separate one to Abby’s, but instead he accepted her invitation back to her place. That one decision led to the three little babies now smiling up at him.
He’d been there for their births, and it had been admittedly one of the greatest and then scariest moments of his life. Born premature, the triplets spent three weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit. He and Caitlin had spent hours at the hospital, watching as the doctors and nurses tended to their children.
That was
six months ago. Now they were healthy, beautiful, and growing like weeds. He and Caitlin had agreed that the babies would live with her. Her parents and his were there to help, and he was paying the bill for a full-time nanny.
Not that he needed to—her whole family was set for life thanks to her grandfather winning the state lottery years ago, the highest amount on record at the time. Still, Josh wanted to prove that even though he had no plans to move back to Buttermilk Falls, he would step up and help in his kids’ upbringing.
He raked his jet black hair. He knew he should see them more often than he did and that his footing the bill for a full-time nanny didn’t really constitute being involved in their lives. He just didn’t know how to deal with their mother.
He sighed, thinking back to that night and how it all ended. He’d wanted her for as long as he could remember and the sex had been incredible—it was the aftermath that had sucked.
It was then that he held a weeping Caitlin in his arms, running his fingers through her hair until she finally fell asleep. Never in all his fantasies did the woman of his dreams scream out another man’s name and then burst into tears. He’d hated that loser for what he’d done to her.
Funny how that prick was now his brother-in-law and, truth be told, a decent guy.
Crushed at her calling out Brandon’s name, Josh had dressed and left a sleeping Caitlin without a word. It was a mistake that he had hoped to forget, and he didn’t make any attempt to contact her.
He’d heard from Abby that Caitlin had taken an unexpected trip to Paris, and that was fine by him. With Caitlin across the Atlantic, he’d have a better chance of forgetting her sweet taste as his lips traveled down the slope of her neck that night or the feel of her soft skin on his fingertips. Her delicious scent was another matter. It never left him.
He glanced down at the picture still in his hand. Little did he know, she’d boarded the plane for her cross-Atlantic trip with three little reminders of their night together. In December, she showed up on his doorstep sporting a noticeable round belly.
