Adopted: Twins!

by Marion Lennox

  ‘Her leg’s just badly bruised. We didn’t break it.’

  They burst in like miniature time bombs, exploding into the kitchen with their news. Momentarily they paused as they saw Tom, but they’d been dealing with Tom all their lives and apart from lowering their voices a notch, it didn’t stop them telling Erin what was important.

  ‘The vet says it’s just grazed and bruised, but he’s wrapped it up in a great big white bandage and he says she’s not to walk on it for a week.’

  ‘Which is just what is going to happen.’ Following the twins was Matt, carrying Sadie in his arms. He lay the big dog down in her basket, she looked pathetically up at him-and then she wagged her tail.

  The wag destroyed the pathetic image completely and Erin had to grin.

  ‘Not mortally injured, huh?’

  ‘Not.’ The boys had spotted the pizza which demanded their immediate and undivided attention-which left Matt free to speak to Erin and Tom. ‘I’m glad to see you again,’ he told Tom.

  ‘It’s my pleasure to be here.’ Tom beamed at what was happening around him. A man, a woman, two kids and a dog. This was a great family situation. Perfect. If he’d tried to engineer a better placement for the twins, he couldn’t have done it.

  A sudden idea flashed into his head, his eyes grew thoughtful and his smile widened as Erin shooed the boys out to wash their hands before eating. Hmm.

  Double hmm.

  ‘I brought enough pizza for the lot of us,’ he said expansively. He was suddenly feeling expansive. He was a man who liked a good happy ending if he could possibly arrange it. ‘There are four different types. Help yourself.’

  Then he watched Matt’s face with interest-and he liked what he saw.

  What he saw was confusion.

  The pizzas smelled great, Matt had decided, but that alone was really, really strange. Matt was a bachelor and pizza was his staple food-except he’d become fed up to the back teeth with pizza. Normally he’d run a mile to avoid it, and something gastronomically wonderful was waiting for him at Charlotte’s.

  But suddenly all he wanted to do was haul up a chair, sit down beside Erin and eat pizza.

  ‘Um…no.’ He gave a half hearted grin. ‘I have a date.’

  ‘With Charlotte,’ Erin told Tom, and Tom nodded politely. But his eyes were still thoughtful. His idea, once planted, refused to be dissipated by a small obstacle like a fiancée.

  His idea was wonderful!

  ‘Well, off you go, boy,’ he told him. ‘I daresay Erin won’t wait up for you.’

  ‘She certainly won’t.’ Erin’s eyes creased into laughter. ‘I’m pooped already. Too much excitement last night and then a swim on top of it… I wonder how you can face a night out.’

  ‘But he’s going to see the woman he loves,’ Tom said, watching Matt’s face and getting answers to unspoken questions that were most satisfactory. ‘I expect he won’t find that tiring in the least.’

  The woman he planned to marry was waiting for him. She’d been ready for hours, and the cooking smells hit him before he opened the door of the truck.

  Wow! They were great smells. And then Charlotte was running lightly down the front steps of her house, greeting him with a hug as he pushed open the door, and he had to acknowledge that she looked just beautiful.

  ‘Matt. Darling. I thought you’d never come. No more house fires tonight?’

  ‘No more fires tonight.’ He put her away from him and smiled down at her. She really was incredibly lovely-and those smells…

  But it wasn’t quail.

  ‘I thought you were reheating last night’s dinner,’ he said, suddenly uneasy. ‘That’s why I agreed to come-so it wouldn’t be wasted.’

  ‘Well, yes.’ She blushed and fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘But…’ Her eyes slid sideways. ‘I sort of thought…Well, I saw the box when I was in the truck this afternoon, you see, and I thought lobster thermidor was the very least I could produce-and Dom Pérignon champagne to go with it.’

  The box.

  Hell, the box!

  It was still sitting where he’d left it last night. Two thousand bucks’ worth of diamond and it had completely slipped his mind. He’d had it sitting in the truck all day, and he hadn’t even locked the truck! Or thought that whoever sat in the passenger side would see it.

  And now…

  Charlotte was looking at him with eyes that glowed, then looking past him to where the damned velvet box was still sitting in the map compartment. She was expecting him to ask her to marry him.

  Well, why not? he demanded of himself, and wondered why he felt so reluctant to move further. This was what he’d planned to do all along, he told himself. He’d thought about it long and hard. It was the sensible decision.

  But…the twins.

  ‘Charlotte, I’ve offered to take the twins for six months,’ he told her hastily.

  ‘That’s fine.’ Apparently it wasn’t an impediment.

  It wasn’t. Charlotte had heard Matt make his offer to Tom this afternoon and her mind had been working in overdrive since then. There was no way she wanted that woman living with Matt-but maybe she could cope with the twins. Just for a few months. If she must. All they needed was a little discipline!

  ‘Tom didn’t like our idea of the stables,’ she said, in a voice that hinted at her opinion of orphanage directors who weren’t grateful for any charity they could get. ‘But I’ve been thinking about it. If Erin stays with you, there’s a Home Mother completely taken up with only two children. So what if we get married quite soon and look after them ourselves?’

  For Charlotte this was a definite possibility. Unknown to her beloved, she’d had her wedding gown and her wedding plans ready for years. This would not be a rush.

  ‘We could go away for a lovely honeymoon,’ she told him, taking his hands in hers and smiling her most beautiful smile. I’m sure my manager here would take over your farm while we’re away, and we’d be combining the properties anyway. Then we can come back and Erin could leave.’

  He was stunned. ‘You have it all figured out.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She beamed, and then looked into the truck again. The box was irresistible. ‘It’s so sensible.’ She leaned in, lifted the box from where it lay, opened it and stared down at the solitary diamond. And gasped. ‘Oh, Matt! It’s just beautiful.’

  But he was still uneasy. ‘Charlotte, I don’t know-’

  ‘Look, let’s not worry about the twins and Erin tonight,’ she said, sliding the ring onto her finger with a triumphant flourish and tucking her arm in his with proprietorial ease. ‘In truth, I don’t know when I can organise the wedding, but I’ll try to do it as soon as possible. For now, let’s just concentrate on being engaged-and tackling our lobster and champagne. It’s cost me a fortune and I refuse to let it spoil. For now we’re celebrating our engagement. The rest can all be sorted out over the next few days.’

  Hell!

  How had he managed that? he thought as he drove home three hours later.

  He was engaged to be married!

  Well, he’d made the decision when he’d bought the ring. He might have known. Charlotte probably had spies in the jewellers. This town was too small for secrets, and even if he hadn’t left the damned ring in the truck she would have known he’d bought it.

  It was impossible to back out now.

  And why would he want to?

  He thought that through, forcing his confused mind to be sensible.

  This was a sensible, well thought-out decision, he told himself firmly. Charlotte was a lovely woman and she’d been faithful to him for years. She’d make a loving wife and a wonderful homemaker.

  She’d never appear naked in wet crimplene!

  And he’d never want her to, he told himself but he knew deep down that he was a liar. Or maybe he wasn’t.

  He wouldn’t want Charlotte in wet crimplene-but Erin was a different matter.

  Hell!

  He’d expected them all to be in bed. Erin wasn
’t. She was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by opened parcels. She was sorting clothes into piles, and as he walked in, her eyes lifted to his and glowed with pleasure.

  ‘Matt, these are excellent. Charlotte’s been so good. They’re great, sensible clothes, the sort that we can really work in around the farm. They’re just what we need.’

  He walked forward and fingered the clothes. Yep, they were sensible. Jeans, T-shirts, windcheaters, sneakers…Great for the boys.

  Sensible for Erin.

  But he sort of liked the crimplene.

  Yeah, and he knew why. He grinned at himself and thrust the memory of Erin in wet crimplene onto the back-burner. There’d be no more of that now. Charlotte had outdone herself. These were quality clothes, carefully chosen. Erin would look practical in these clothes; like a sensible, hard-working Home Mother. A woman who knew her place in the world. They wouldn’t turn transparent when wet. They were built to cover everything!

  Charlotte wouldn’t be seen dead in these clothes.

  That was an uncharitable thought, he decided hastily, pushing it away with a definite shrug. Charlotte wore quality linen blouses, and tailored skirts or slacks. He knew instinctively that Erin wouldn’t like Charlotte’s style of clothes, and these were much more…well, sensible. So she’d done the right thing. To criticise Charlotte’s choice of clothes was to be unfair to the woman he’d just promised to marry.

  Or…she was the lady he’d just seen put his ring on her finger, he thought suddenly. He’d never actually said the words, ‘Will you marry me?’

  He’d never actually promised anything.

  It didn’t matter, he told himself harshly. She was wearing his ring, and she’d wear it now for ever. Tomorrow she’d tell the world, and he should, too.

  Starting now.

  ‘Charlotte and I are engaged,’ he told Erin.

  Her eyes flew to his, there was the merest fraction of hesitation-and then she rose. Her pile of denim fell back onto the table. Erin’s face creased into a smile of delight for him-she really did seem delighted!-and she walked forward, took both his hands in hers and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

  ‘Matt, that’s wonderful. I’m very, very happy for you. The whole town’s been expecting it for ever.’ Then she stood back a little, her eyes twinkling with understanding. ‘It was supposed to happen last night though, wasn’t it?’

  This lady had the knack of knowing things he’d rather she didn’t, but there was no point in denying what was obvious. It just disconcerted him. ‘Yes.’ He thought for a moment of telling her the rest of Charlotte’s plans and then thought better of it. Weddings took ages to organise.

  Please let it be six months…

  Erin’s thoughts were still on Charlotte, unaware of the threat the marriage posed to her boys. A Charlotte mother!

  ‘Poor Charlotte,’ she was saying. ‘No wonder she looked so downcast yesterday. Matt, I’m so sorry we messed with your plans.’

  He wasn’t, and he wouldn’t let Erin be sorry either. ‘Hey, it got me lobster instead of quail,’ he told her, and she chuckled.

  Erin had the most delicious chuckle…

  ‘And to think you missed out on pizza. Poor old you. Lobster and a new fiancée. Tch. And our pizza was Bay Beach’s best!’

  He grinned at her. Erin’s laughter was infectious. ‘Yep. It’s a real shame.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Still she was smiling, and he suddenly could think of nothing else to say. All he could think of was how blindingly attractive her smile was.

  Funny he’d never seen it before.

  Maybe it was because he was engaged, he thought. Erin was now forbidden fruit. He was engaged to be married.

  He was happily engaged to be married! Forbidden fruit indeed.

  So he should leave. He should go to bed. Instead he stood, stupidly fingering the pile of new clothes.

  ‘Charlotte’s bought you everything you need?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She should have brought you something pretty,’ he said inconsequentially. ‘You can’t just wear jeans and windcheaters.’

  ‘There’s not a lot of call for me to wear anything else,’ she told him bluntly. ‘These are just fine.’

  ‘But you go to dances and things.’

  ‘Only when I’m off duty. I don’t expect I’ll be off duty for a while.’

  ‘I can look after the twins sometimes,’ he told her. ‘If you want to go out.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Like tomorrow… Go to town tomorrow. There’s still plenty left from Tom’s insurance cheque. Go and buy yourself something nice.’

  ‘I hardly need pretty things tomorrow.’

  ‘You never know.’ He stared down at the jeans with distaste, and noticed a pile of flannelette pyjamas. He looked more closely and discovered they were all the same. Charlotte had bought three sets of red flannelette pyjamas, two small pairs and one larger set. His mouth tightened in distaste as he lifted them for inspection.

  ‘And these,’ he said shortly. ‘They’re wrong. I don’t know what Charlotte was thinking of buying matching sleepwear. They’ll make you and the boys look like something out of an institution.’

  Erin agreed, but she was forced to defend Charlotte. She had to be grateful. ‘Matt, they’re new and clean and the boys won’t notice. They’ll be fine.’

  ‘They’re not fine and I’ll notice,’ he growled, and her gorgeous chuckle rang out again.

  ‘Oh, no, you won’t. These are pyjamas, Mr McKay. Worn in bed. You need never see them.’

  ‘I don’t want to. They’re dreadful.’

  ‘They’re sensible.’

  ‘They’ll be hot as be damned. It’s almost summer. You’re not wearing them.’

  ‘Tonight I’ll wear them.’ Her eyes were defiant-but still twinkling. ‘It’s them or nothing-and I’m definitely not wearing nothing.’

  Erin in nothing…

  Where had that thought come from? Erin not in her crimplene. Erin in less…

  Hell! He had to get out of here. He was a sensibly engaged man.

  Just as well, or anything could have happened.

  ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning,’ he told her. But he grabbed the package. There was no way he was letting her wear those pyjamas. ‘Meanwhile, wear a T-shirt or something. These are going back to the shop.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Her tone was half mocking and he grimaced. Did she know what he’d been thinking-and what he was feeling right now? Somehow he knew that she did.

  He glowered and glowered some more. ‘Good. I’m glad you agree.’

  ‘It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for Charlotte’s thoughtfulness.’ She wasn’t, but she wouldn’t admit it for worlds.

  She turned to gather her clothing together, and he stood watching her for a couple of moments. Erin was wearing the dress she’d been wearing the night before when the home burned down-one of her Charlotte-decreed home-made jobs. It was pale blue with lemon swirls, with a couple of fire stains she hadn’t been able to remove by scrubbing. Stained or not, it made her look…

  It made her look as if the jeans and windcheaters Charlotte had chosen were totally unsuitable.

  Suddenly he had a thought. This was one thing that was suitable, at least.

  ‘Erin?’

  ‘Yes?’ She paused from her clothes gathering and looked up in enquiry.

  She was expecting him to go to bed and leave her, he thought. She was expecting nothing from him at all.

  He felt his midriff clench in sudden pain. Hell, he wanted to do something for her so badly, and all he had was this. He shoved his hand into his back pocket and found what he’d been searching for.

  ‘Tom showed me the layout of your house and which was your bedroom,’ he told her, his suddenly gruff voice failing to hide his inexplicable emotion.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There were a few things we were able to salvage.’

  Her face stilled. ‘It wasn’t all completely burned?’

  ‘The roof burned
and the ceiling caved in,’ he told her, seeing her sudden look of hope and wanting to dispel it before it started. ‘The weight of the ceiling, and the soot and smoke and water effectively destroyed most of your stuff. But the base of your bedroom didn’t actually catch fire. The roof caved in while it was still smouldering, but it was doused fast. So the lads from the fire brigade and I made a really good search and we found these.’

  And he lifted up what he was holding-a string of seed pearls.

  As pearls went they were what he’d been brought up to believe were inadequate. Both his mother and Charlotte would have scorned these as trumpery, he knew. But to Erin…

  To Erin they weren’t trumpery. She stared at the string dangling from his fingers, then took a tentative step forward as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  ‘My mother’s necklace.’ She whispered the words. It was as if she wasn’t able to believe what she was seeing, and any minute they’d be snatched back from her.

  ‘It’s the only trinket we found that was recognisable,’ he told her. ‘Did you have much jewellery?’

  ‘That’s all I had.’ She lifted it from his fingers and stared down at it, still disbelieving. ‘Oh, Matt…’

  ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t retrieve more stuff,’ he said awkwardly, but she lifted her face to his and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  Then, before he knew what she was about-before he could take one step to defend himself-she threw her arms around his neck, raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips.

  It was a kiss of thanks-nothing more. It was a kiss of gratitude.

  So how it had the capacity to knock him sideways-to have him catch her waist in his hands and pull her in to him and kiss her back-to feel like his world was shifting on its axis and shifting forever-who could say?

  Matt couldn’t.

  He could only feel, but feel he did. He felt the way her body felt delicious under his hands. The way her mouth yielded to his and the touch of her hair against his, the moulding of her breasts to his chest-the fragrance of her…

  He didn’t understand this in the least. He could only feel and feel some more, and when she finally pulled away he could only regret her parting, and regret it with every inch of his being.