“What does that mean?” She found herself speaking quietly, and not because of the sleeping children. This was delicate subject matter and Wyatt was looking so miserable.
“I thought I’d attend the nuptials, wish Blake well and bide my time during the reception. There’d be some drowning of my sorrows in whiskey, too, and then I’d planned on turning in early. I didn’t go there with anything else in mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about Madelyn and how we would’ve spent the day celebrating her birthday together. But then I found you broken down on the road, and I couldn’t drive on by. I stopped and well, that’s the unexpected part. For the first time since Madelyn died, I started enjoying myself again. Just being in your company changed my outlook and made me glad I’d made the trip to the inn. You made me forget some pretty awful days and I...well damn, this isn’t easy to admit.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed from deep in his chest. “I was attracted to you, Brooke. Madelyn was my whole life and I can’t even remember a time that I wasn’t infatuated with her. But then I had this one day with you.”
“So I was a hall pass from your grief and guilt?”
He nodded. “Sounds awful, but maybe that’s exactly how it was.”
“So you woke up the next day and ran...because the guilt came back? You couldn’t face me? Why didn’t you wake me or at least wait until we could say goodbye?”
Wyatt reached across the wide table and touched her fingers, as if he needed the connection with her. Sparks ran up her arm, but she wouldn’t make anything out of it. Wyatt was clearly still in love with his wife.
“No, Brooke. It wasn’t that. It was Henrietta. She’d stayed overnight with the babies, and I’d promised her I’d be back early in the morning. She had a trip planned and I didn’t want to ruin her day or abuse her good nature. I woke up later than expected that morning. Believe me, there was so much I wanted to say to you. But that note was all I had time for, and that’s the honest truth. On my babies’ lives, I swear to you.”
Brooke was quiet for a time. He was giving her time to absorb it all. She took a swallow of her drink and began nodding her head. “Okay, I get that. But you know what part of the note insulted me more than anything? The thank-you at the end.”
Wyatt stared at her and shook his head. “You’re mad because I thanked you?”
“It was as if...as if I’d done a service for you or something. I can’t explain it, but that’s how I felt when I woke up alone and found your thank-you note.”
“Oh, man.” He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. “I had no idea it would come off that way. I wasn’t proud of how I left that day. It’s bothered me all this time. Believe me, Brooke, I never intended to hurt you.”
Thunder boomed off in the distance and she jumped. Was it a heavenly omen, a sign to take Wyatt at his word?
“I’m out of practice with women, Brooke. And I never expected to have...”
“Sex?”
He nodded. It wasn’t in his wheelhouse to be crude; she’d already figured that out about him. But she had no problem telling it like it is.
“It was an amazing night, Brooke. But I didn’t think past that night or what the next day would bring.”
“I didn’t either, if I’m being honest.”
“But you didn’t expect me to run out on you.”
She nodded. “It made what could’ve been a good memory for me feel cheap.”
“No!” Wyatt scraped his chair back and stood. “No, Brooke. That night...it was real and honest. I needed to feel alive again...and it was you, and only you, who helped me with that. And if I’m not mistaken, you needed the same from me, too. Am I right?”
She opened her mouth, but her denial didn’t come. Slowly, she closed her trap and nodded. She would give Wyatt that. She’d needed someone who’d cared—if only in the moment—for her. She was still healing from Royce’s duplicity. She would’ve almost rather had her ex throw her over for another woman than to use her the way he had.
Wyatt was a different breed of man. That much she knew. “You didn’t tell me you had children.”
“I didn’t. I just wanted to be me, not a father, not a widower, that night. My pain-in-the-ass pal Johnny is forever saying I need to find myself again. That’s what I was trying to do.”
She inhaled a sharp breath, everything becoming clear in her mind now. He was lost without his wife.
A flash of lightning lit up the night sky behind Wyatt and reflected off the window. The bright beam illuminated a backyard filled with patio tables and chairs, toys and a gated pool. This was a home for a family to live and love and thrive in, but sadly there was a missing piece now. The family wasn’t whole anymore.
Her anger faded as fast as the lightning. Oddly, she understood how Wyatt wanted to be private about his past when they’d met, wanting one night to just be himself and not a responsible father, not a grieving widower. Wasn’t that the same reason she hadn’t been totally honest with him? She just wanted to be Brooke, not Dylan McKay’s younger sister, not the girl who’d had men use her to get close to her famous brother.
If she were brave, she’d reveal her pregnancy to Wyatt and try to cope with the decisions they would make together. But her courage failed her. She couldn’t lay this on Wyatt right now.
As she grappled with her decision to cut and run, a baby’s wail broke into her thoughts, loud and panicky.
Wyatt’s squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. “That’s Brianna. Sorry. I think she’s having a bad dream. I’ve got to check on her. “
“Of course. Go.”
As soon as Wyatt took a step out of the dining room, another howl erupted, the second one huskier and deeper than the first. Both babies had woken up. And their cries blasted through the house without interval. Double trouble. Brooke rose and followed Wyatt up the stairs.
At least this was one crisis she could help manage.
Four
Brett and Brianna both howled, one in each crib, their little bodies facing up toward glow-in-the-dark neon stars illuminating the ceiling. Madelyn had chosen nursery decor that would bring a sense of peace and calm, but there were times that nothing much soothed cranky twins. Thunder boomed outside, rattling the windows, and their cries grew louder. Wyatt picked up Brett first, bouncing him in his arms, and then turned to Brianna. But Brooke was already picking up his little girl.
Brianna was groggy at best, her eyes half closed. But she looked so sweet, her blond curls falling onto her face as she clung to Brooke’s neck. She had no clue she was in the arms of a stranger. Heaven help them all when she discovered that fact. Bri was his wild child. She didn’t take to newcomers, which was something her previous nannies had learned the hard way.
Brooke bounced Brianna in her arms, taking her cue from him. Not that he knew exactly what he was doing. His kids were a constant bafflement to him. One minute they were happy as clams, the next, they’d be wailing about something he couldn’t begin to fathom.
Bouncing them was clearly not working. Tears continued to fall, and then Brooke began to sing as she rocked the baby in her arms. Not just sing: her lilting voice filled the room with sweetness, a serene siren’s song that mesmerized with its beauty. And damn if Brianna didn’t stop crying right then and there. Her big blue eyes opened wide and she sniffled a few times, stunned into silence by her own curiosity and...awe.
Brett followed suit, and Wyatt walked him closer to Brooke, so he, too, could be enchanted. Brooke clearly had a talent, which seemed to pour out of her effortlessly. Within minutes, his crab apple little ones were quieted. Brooke rocked Bri and he rocked Brett and once they’d fallen asleep in their arms, Wyatt nodded to Brooke. Carefully, she laid the baby down in her crib. Then Wyatt kissed Brett on the forehead and also set him in his crib.
Brooke tiptoed out of the room, allowing Wy
att a minute to simply stare at his babies. God, he loved them. They were all he had left of Madelyn, and they truly were the best part of him. He would do just about anything to ensure their happiness. But with one strike against them already—losing their beautiful mother—the weight of his responsibility sometimes scared the stuffing out of him.
He left the nursery door open and went in search of Brooke. He found her at the top of the stairs, waiting for him. “They’re both sweet,” she whispered. “You’re very lucky.”
“Thanks. You have a beautiful voice, Brooke. Hidden talent? Or did you lie to me about your profession?”
Her body went rigid. Fueled by anger, her brown eyes lit up. “I didn’t lie to you about anything but my name.”
“Yeah, and why was that? You feel like telling me now?” he asked softly, trying to tread carefully. He’d pissed her off unintentionally, but he really wanted to know.
Her shoulders relaxed some, and she studied him a moment, then nodded. “All right. I’ll explain.”
“Great. Let’s talk downstairs.” He took her arm and led her to the parlor sofa. “Have a seat.”
She sat on the couch and he took a seat on the opposite end.
“It’s not a big deal,” she began, “that I lied about my last name. My brother is famous and it gets old real fast, having people act nice to me only because of him.”
“That’s it? That’s why you lied? You get tired of answering questions about him?”
“No, Wyatt. I get tired of men using me, getting my hopes up and pretending to care about me only to get close to him. I get tired of men giving me scripts or screenplays to show him or using me to ask him to invest in their pet projects.”
Wyatt shook his head, finally getting the picture. It wasn’t pretty. It would take a strong, secure woman not to be affected, but then, Brooke was all those things, which made the creeps using her horrible slugs. “You’ve been burned.”
“To a crisp.”
“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry. Was it someone in particular, someone special?”
“I thought he was special at the time. It was a man who worked in finance, a real pencil pusher, a numbers man, a guy I thought wouldn’t care who my brother was. As it turned out Royce was a closet wannabe screenwriter. And when he lowered the boom I didn’t see it coming. It floored me and hurt me, and coming to Texas was a way to mend and heal. And gain some perspective. So, what I did that day by lying to you wasn’t too different than what you’d done. I just wanted a day without questions. One day to be me. Just plain Brooke.”
“You could never be plain,” he said, and realized how much he meant it. From the get-go, he’d found something unique in Brooke.
“Thanks.” She shrugged and looked away as if she didn’t believe him, as if what he was saying to her was merely a platitude to make her feel better. Yes, he wanted her to feel better, but he wasn’t lying.
“It’s the truth. And I do understand. I’m sorry you got hurt, Brooke. Honestly, it makes me feel awful about running out on you the way I did.”
She snapped off a quick smile. “Story of my life.”
“You’re terrific, Brooke. I mean that. And any creep who would use you isn’t fit to call himself a man.”
“Present company excluded?”
“I didn’t use you. Tell me you don’t think that.”
Her eyes squeezed closed and she shook her head. “No. I don’t think that. Not anymore.”
Which meant she’d gone the entire month thinking he had. Crap.
Wyatt closed the gap between them on the sofa. He had to get closer to her now, and make sure she was okay. Hell, she was more than okay. She was amazing. It wasn’t easy being this close without touching her, holding her in his arms and making her feel better. But sanity prevailed just in time and took over his brain. Touching her again would be a colossal mistake. A change of subject was needed.
“You’re very good with children. Do you have a big family?”
“Not really. I’m Dylan’s foster sister—his folks are my folks. It was just me and him growing up. He’s always been my rock, my best friend, and sometimes, my bitter enemy. You know, your usual brother/sister dynamic.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Yeah, it was. Still is. I love him to death. What about you? Brothers or sisters?”
“Nope, just me and those two powerhouses you helped put to sleep. They’re a handful and a half. I don’t know how people with big families do it. One boy, one girl, and I’m done. Especially now.”
“You mean because you’re doing it without their mother?” Brooke’s voice lowered and nearly cracked. She wouldn’t look him in the face.
“Two’s enough, when both parents are in the picture. But yeah, I suppose it’s because I’m trying to move on and it’s tough going sometimes. That’s why when I met you...well, it was nice. You were nice, and I suppose I—”
“Don’t, Wyatt. I get the picture.”
She went rigid all over and lowered her lids to her red suede shoes. They looked great on her feet, but weren’t exactly perfect footwear for a rainy night. “Maybe you don’t.”
“Oh, believe me, I do.” Her voice was stronger now, but pained, as if he’d hurt her all over again.
Just then, lightning flashed, and a second later thunder cracked, the loud boom shaking the house. Wyatt bounded up quickly and moved to the window. Rain was coming down in buckets. This raging storm wasn’t moving on anytime soon. “Dammit. I should’ve been paying closer attention.”
“To what?” Brooke asked.
He turned to her while releasing a you’re-a-fool sigh aimed at himself. “The rain. The storm. This isn’t good, Brooke.”
“Won’t it pass?” She rose and marched over to the window.
“Not before doing a lot of damage. The bridge is washed out by now. Happens every time we have a major storm.”
“What bridge? Not that pretty little bridge I drove over a couple of hours ago?”
“That’s the one. It’s the only way in and out of the ranch. Can’t get to the highway without it. You’re going to have to spend the night here.”
Her face twisted up, and those chocolate eyes went dark as coal. “That’s ridiculous, Wyatt. I. Am. Not. Spending the night here.”
“Hey, I know you don’t want to, but this storm is dangerous. And you won’t get over that bridge. Trust me.”
She shook her head. “I’m betting it’s not too late. If I leave now, I’ll make it. The rain only just started coming down hard.”
“Nope, not happening. I can’t let you do it.”
“You can’t order me to stay here.” Her voice rose. “I’m going to try, Wyatt.”
She found her purse, grabbed her car keys and made a dash for the front door.
He followed her. “Brooke, be reasonable.” But the determined look on her face said reason wasn’t a factor.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“You didn’t eat a thing.”
“Thanks anyway. I’ll...we’ll talk. I have to go.”
He blocked the door with his arm. “Don’t. It’s not safe.”
It wasn’t safe for her to stay overnight either, but he wasn’t going there.
She gazed into his eyes. There was something more going on with her. Something that he didn’t understand. Was she worried about a repeat of the night they’d shared? He’d hurt her, and she wasn’t forgetting that anytime soon, but for some reason he didn’t believe that was it. He thought they’d cleared the air. They’d talked openly and honestly, but something had jarred her and he wasn’t sure what it was.
“You don’t have to worry about, about...”
“Don’t be an idiot, Wyatt. You think you’re that irresistible?”
She blinked her eyes; her sarcasm was hi
ding something else. Something she wasn’t saying. Having her spend the night here wouldn’t be easy on him. He wasn’t immune to her, the way she claimed to be to him. She was the only other woman beside Madelyn to touch something deep inside him and bring out his protective instincts. Was it a bad case of lust? He’d gone months without sex, and Brooke had been the perfect partner, guileless and beautiful and giving. Having her here would test his willpower, but the very thought of her going out in that storm gave him hives. She didn’t know the roads like he did. She didn’t know the treachery that lay in her path. She came from California, where a few sprinkles meant storm watch. But here in Texas, they had real storms, ones that could wipe out entire towns.
“Brooke, listen to me. You’re being stubborn.”
“And you’re wasting my time. You can’t keep me here against my will,” she hissed out.
Holy hell, she was right. “I am trying to keep you safe.”
“I don’t need you to rescue me anymore. You’re through being my miracle cowboy, Wyatt. Now, unblock the door.”
Slowly and against his God-given good judgment, he stepped away from the door.
She exited quickly, and he watched her get into her car, start the engine and pull away.
* * *
The windshield wipers weren’t doing a very good job. Or was it her tears causing her vision to blur? She slowed the car down to a snail’s crawl and inched her way along the dark road leading her away from Wyatt, his kids, his grief and his declaration that he wanted no more children. Period. Two’s enough. Two, as in his adorable twins who were motherless now, and being raised by a dad who was lost in his own way.
And where did that leave her?
More tears spilled onto her cheeks, mingling with the raindrops that had slashed across her face just minutes ago as she got into her car. Damn her hormones. She was usually stronger than this. But usually, she wasn’t pregnant by a virtual stranger whose only sin, other than running out on her in the morning after a one-night stand, was that he had no clue how her heart had shattered and was still shattering when she realized that he wasn’t going to jump for joy at having another child.
Twins for the Texan Page 6
