Twins for the Texan

by Charlene Sands

  Wyatt hadn’t known this much joy since before Madelyn’s accident. It was as if they were a family, similar to the ducks swimming in his pond, sticking together, having a fun time. A knot twisted in his gut. He knew better. He wouldn’t dwell on what couldn’t be. But still...

  Fifteen minutes later, they were back at the stables and off the saddles. The twins were pooped and ready for a morning nap.

  He carried the heftier Brett over his shoulders, while Brooke carried Bri as they headed for the house. Dust kicked up, stopping them midway on the driveway as a slick midnight blue sports car came to a halt right in front of them.

  And Johnny Wilde stepped out of his convertible.

  Nine

  “So that’s Brooke?” Johnny said to Wyatt after they’d put the twins down to nap. Brooke was upstairs getting ready for her outing with his mother and the children. “You finally found someone suitable as a nanny, then?”

  Wyatt gave Johnny a thoughtful look here in the privacy of his study. He’d learned his lesson the hard way and removed the shrine of photos he’d had of Madelyn in the room. Now only a few of his favorites graced the wall. “Not exactly.”

  Johnny was his best friend, someone he trusted, a rancher and part owner of the Dallas-based Wilde Corporation he ran with his brothers. They’d grown up together and once upon a time, Johnny had even had an eye for Madelyn. But Wyatt had won her over.

  “What does that mean?” With the twist of his wrist, ice shuffled around in the glass of lemonade Johnny held.

  “It means, and I know I can trust you...” He eyed him carefully and Johnny nodded. “Brooke is a woman I picked up on the road. We were both going to the same wedding and her car had broken down and...well, it’s a long story.”

  Johnny leaned forward in his chair. “You got my attention at Brooke is a woman I picked up on the road. Trust me, Wyatt, for this, I have the time.”

  Wyatt took a swig of his drink. “I know, it doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

  Wyatt spent the next ten minutes explaining the situation to his best friend. Johnny listened, keeping his thoughts to himself and nodding.

  “So that’s it. Brooke is leaving in two days, right after Mom leaves.”

  “Weird coincidence that she’s Dylan McKay’s sister.”

  “Tell me about it. Are you still working on the set?”

  “Yeah, part-time. The show wraps in less than a week.”

  “That means Brooke will be going back to California.”

  Johnny’s dark brows rose and white lines appeared in his otherwise tan forehead. “And you’re letting her go?”

  Wyatt nodded. “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve already hurt her. And I can’t... I can’t.” He began shaking his head. “Listen, you know how hard I took Madelyn’s death. I’m still grieving. There’s a hole in my heart that will never fill up again. If I got involved with Brooke and it didn’t work out, I... I’m just not ready for that.”

  “Too bad, pal. If it were me, I’d ask her to stay. You said she’s great with the kids, and well, if she’s that hot in the sack...”

  “Watch it,” Wyatt warned, his blood ready to boil over. He’d told Johnny that he and Brooke had a good time together. He hadn’t elaborated, but it was true, Brooke was hot in bed. Yet hearing it come out of Johnny’s mouth rankled him no end. “Don’t make me sorry I confided in you.”

  “Okay, okay. Mellow out, Brandt.”

  “It’s just that, Brooke is...”

  “Special? Amazing? Beautiful? Oh, yeah, I noticed.”

  “You only spoke with her for two minutes.”

  “Two of the best minutes of my life.”

  Wyatt gave a half groan, half laugh. “Johnny, you’re hopeless.”

  “I’m just trying to help. If you’ve got feelings for her, Wyatt, don’t run from them. You may never come across another woman you like as much.”

  “That’s just it, I’m not looking for another woman. I need a nanny for my kids. Preferably someone with warts and knobby knees. Someone who doesn’t distract me every second of the day.”

  Johnny laughed. “Man, you are tortured.”

  “Tell me about it. Come on,” Wyatt said. “Mom’s probably downstairs by now. She’ll want to see you.”

  “She’s the main reason I came by. I couldn’t let your mama leave for home without saying hello.”

  An hour later, Wyatt and Johnny were in the garage helping Brooke load the kids into their car seats. Johnny gave Brett and Brianna high fives and then kissed them on their cheeks. “I’ll see you next time I come by, kids. Love you both,” Johnny said. “Brooke, it was very nice meeting you.”

  “Same here, Johnny.”

  “What do you mean, next time? You’re staying for dinner tonight,” Genevieve said. “I haven’t seen enough of you today and the twins would love to see more of their Uncle Johnny. Wyatt, didn’t you invite Johnny for dinner?”

  “Yeah, Wyatt,” Johnny egged him on. “I didn’t hear anything about dinner.”

  “You’re welcome to stay for dinner,” Wyatt droned.

  Johnny glanced at Brooke and gave her a big smile. “I’d like that very much.”

  Brooke smiled back, and Wyatt’s jealousy radar went crazy.

  “There, it’s settled.” The queen of England herself would stand up and take notice at his mother’s tone. “We’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Sounds good. And hey, will James be sitting down with us? I promised him a visit, too.”

  “No, James doesn’t usually dine with us,” Genevieve was quick to point out.

  “But I’ll ask him to join us,” Wyatt said. He wasn’t about to throw James under the bus because of his mother. James deserved better treatment. He’d been loyal to the ranch for decades.

  “Well, that’s just great.” Johnny glanced at Brooke, then Genevieve. “You two ladies have a fun outing. I’ll see you all later.”

  Deliberately, Wyatt didn’t look at his mother. If she was pissed, she’d aim her wrath at him, and he had enough to worry about lately.

  Dinner at the Brandt house tonight wasn’t going to be dull.

  That was for darn sure.

  * * *

  “Genevieve, your mouth is going to stay that way if you don’t untwist it. At least that’s what I was always told,” Brooke said.

  As Wyatt’s mother slumped on the wrought iron and wood park bench, her face wrinkled even more. The usually strong woman appeared diminutive sitting next to Brooke. “Sorry, I’m lousy company today.”

  The children were playing in the park, shoveling sand into a variety of sifters, pails and animal molds. They were getting filthy and having the best day ever. Horsey rides, ducks at the pond and now the sandbox. Brooke loved seeing the joy in their eyes. They were the sweetest kids.

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Life usually is.” And wasn’t that the truth. She was keeping secrets from Genevieve and Wyatt. And one of those truths was beginning to show in the form of a tiny baby bump.

  Genevieve nodded. “I like my life. It’s full and rich and when I’m helping others, I feel better about myself. I work for charities and foundations and pour my heart and soul into the work. It’s what I love. I’ve made friends. I have a beautiful home in New York.”

  “Why do I feel a but coming here?”

  “It’s just one big fat but. James.”

  Brooke laughed.

  Then Genevieve laughed, too. “I didn’t mean it that way. James is...”

  “Nice? Handsome? Persistent?”

  “Yes, all of it. He and I, well, we began seeing each other and it was marvelous. I mean, we really had a good, good time. But he wanted more.”
<
br />   “And you’re afraid to give it?”

  “He used to work for my husband. He works for Wyatt now. I mean...what would people say? How would it look?”

  “Like maybe two lonely, intelligent people found each other?”

  Genevieve smiled sadly. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why do you care what anyone says?”

  She shrugged and tears entered her eyes. “I don’t. Not really. But it’s taken me all this time to get what I really wanted in life—to live on the East Coast, to be part of society rather than being tucked away on a remote ranch. To have friends, go to the theater and enjoy all the city has to offer.”

  “There are pros and cons to every issue, Genevieve. What if you gave James a chance and found that you were happier than you could ever imagine? You’d be close to your grandchildren and your son. And I’m sure James could be persuaded to do some of those things you enjoy so much with you.”

  Genevieve’s gaze rested on the children playing so heartily in the sand. Little Bri was standing, wearing an accomplished expression and ready to dump the contents of her tiny bucket into a pile. Brett was busy playing with another child’s red toy truck. Behind them, a group of older kids were tossing a football back and forth, their laughter and country music filling the park. “I know. I know. All that might be true,” Wyatt’s mother said. “Lord knows, I’ll never have any more grandchildren. Wyatt is through having babies, and I’m missing out on the ones I do have. I’m just...so afraid.”

  The comment about having babies stuck like a knife in Brooke’s heart. Genevieve had just reaffirmed the reason Brooke was being so cowardly. Wyatt wouldn’t want their child, and it crushed her to face that fact. How could she tell him? How could she possibly confess her pregnancy knowing how he felt about having more children? “Fear is something I understand. It can stifle you and cause you to make bad choices and wrong decisions.”

  But Genevieve’s reply was interrupted when a football sailed over her head. Brooke saw the wild pass heading straight for Brianna and leaped into the sand, tackling her to the ground and then thump! The football smacked the side of her head. Hard. Pain slashed through her temple and her eyes crossed. She closed them until Brianna’s cries reminded her that she had the little one tucked safely beneath her body.

  “Brooke! Are you okay?” Genevieve came rushing over and Brooke slowly gave her a nod.

  “I think so. I’m a little dazed.”

  “Goodness, Brooke. You saved Brianna. That ball would’ve really hurt her. Can you sit up?”

  “Yes, I probably can.” Although everything seemed to be going in slow motion at the moment, with Genevieve’s help, she sat up.

  Brianna was dazed, too. Then startled by Brooke’s quick reaction, she started wailing. “It’s okay, Bri. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  Brett had gone pale. Any minute now, he’d start sobbing, too. Genevieve cradled both children, hugging them to her chest.

  “Gosh, lady. I’m sorry.” It was one of the football players. “Are you okay?”

  “No, she’s not okay.” Genevieve’s voice carried across the playground. “She was hit by your football. But it would’ve been worse if my granddaughter took that hit. Why are you playing so close to the playground? You boys should know better.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry again.”

  The boy, joined by his friends, grabbed up his football and slumped away.

  “My goodness, Brooke. You dived in to save Brianna. I, uh...” Genevieve choked up, shaking her head. “Thank you,” she managed in a whisper.

  “I just reacted,” she said. “I couldn’t let anything happen to Brianna.”

  Genevieve gave her an intense stare. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe I should take you to see a doctor.”

  “No. I’ll be fine.” She touched the sore spot on her skull. Luckily, her arm had come up to partially divert the knock she took to the head. “I’m a little shaken up. You’ll probably have to drive us home though.”

  “Not a problem. Let me get the kids into the car and we’ll get you some ice.”

  One of the mothers from the playground came running over. “Gosh, I saw what happened. I have an ice pack. Here you go.” She handed it to Genevieve. “That was really brave of you,” she said softly to Brooke. “Nice tackle. The momma bear in you came out, didn’t it?”

  She was about to correct the woman. Brianna wasn’t her child, but Genevieve didn’t give her the chance. “It sure did. I’m impressed.”

  “Me, too,” the woman said. “Well, I hope you’ll be all right.”

  “Thank you.”

  The woman gave her a sympathetic smile and walked off.

  Brooke figured she must be dizzy in the head, because her first thought after that was that she’d managed to impress Wyatt’s mother. What would he say to that?

  * * *

  “How about joining me in a glass of wine, Brooke?” Johnny Wilde offered after he’d poured his own glass on the side bar of the dining room. “It’ll help heal that injury you took in the line of duty.” He gave her a smooth smile, the wine bottle tipped and ready to pour. Thanks to Genevieve, everyone around the table had heard about the incident at the park.

  “No thanks, Johnny. I’d better not.”

  Standing beside him, Wyatt held a shot glass to his mouth and downed the liquor in one swallow.

  Brooke looked away. The babies were down for the night and without them as a shield, she had to deal with Wyatt on her own. They’d had a wonderful morning together, taking that ride with the twins. Now he studied her face and head, looking for signs of her injury, no doubt. There was a perpetual frown on his face aimed at her. It was a bit intimidating.

  “You sure?” Johnny asked, ready to put the bottle down. “Being the hero of the day has its perks.”

  “I’m sure. My head is clear and I’d like to keep it that way. Thanks anyway.”

  When they returned home this afternoon, Genevieve had insisted that Brooke take a nap, while she took over tending to the children. The rest had done wonders. Her head no longer ached. And the bump on her head was teeny tiny, hardly noticeable. Still she felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at her as if she’d rushed into a burning building or something. Her save hadn’t been that dramatic, but Brianna would surely have been hurt if that football had knocked her down.

  Genevieve was already sipping wine at the far end of the dining room and speaking with James. It appeared to be a civil conversation from the smile on James’s face. If a man could beam, he was surely doing it, and Genevieve’s occasional quiet laughter was sweet to the ears.

  Wow.

  During the first course of dinner, glazed walnut and pear salad, Johnny entertained them with stories of growing up with Wyatt as his best friend. They’d gone to high school together and were teammates in baseball and football.

  “Rivals is a better word,” Wyatt was saying. “You were always trying to best me.”

  “Trying? I always did,” Johnny added.

  “In whose world?”

  “In my world, Wyatt. Don’t you remember who ran for more touchdowns? Who had more home runs?”

  “I do recall. That would be me. The numbers don’t lie. Maybe your recollections need a little tune-up. Check out the stats.”

  “I bet you still have them.”

  “They’re here somewhere. Madelyn saved them for me.” Wyatt’s voice quieted.

  Johnny’s smirk didn’t falter. He loved the banter, and the mention of Madelyn didn’t stop him from teasing Wyatt. “If you’d told that girl the moon was made of blue cheese, she would’ve believed you.”

  Wyatt didn’t smile. Instead he glanced at Brooke, his soft gaze penetrating her defenses. That’s all it took: one apologetic look from Wyatt to crumble the walls she’d tried so hard to maintain.
He cared about her, she understood that, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  Genevieve and James rose from their seats to help Henrietta serve the entrée. When Brooke stood to lend a hand, both Wyatt and Genevieve stopped her immediately. “Don’t you dare,” Genevieve said.

  Wyatt’s stony stare said the same.

  “I’m fine,” Brooke said to everyone, but she lowered down in her seat.

  “That’s the way we want to keep it, right, Wyatt?” Genevieve gave Wyatt a glance and he nodded.

  “I’ll help, too.”

  “No need. Your mom and I have this,” James said.

  Genevieve gave James a smile and off the two of them went.

  “Well, would you look at that,” Johnny said. “And here I thought Genevieve had no use for good ole James.”

  Good ole James was a silver-haired, intelligent man of the earth. He was no country bumpkin, and maybe Genevieve was finally seeing his merits. If something good had come from this little deception she and Wyatt were engaging in, maybe it would be that those two were finding common ground.

  “Did you have anything to do with my mother’s change of heart?” Wyatt asked.

  “Me?” She thought to refute it, but that wouldn’t be totally true. And she needed to tell as much truth as she could to atone for all the lies. “Maybe. We had a nice talk today. She’s a little confused about some things.”

  “Mom? Confused? She seems to know exactly what she wants.”

  Brooke shrugged. “I noticed a change in her after what almost happened to Brianna. She’s got some thinking to do.”

  Wyatt blinked at the suggestion that he didn’t know all there was about his mother after all. “I suppose. Maybe you saved more than one person today, Brooke.”

  “Deserving of a Purple Heart,” Johnny said, giving her a winning smile. “Or at the very least a pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek.”

  Johnny leaned over, put his hand on her shoulder and then brushed a kiss to her cheek. It was short and quick, a chaste kiss, yet he’d stunned her. Heat climbed up her neck and one glance at Wyatt’s murderous stare at Johnny had a bubble of laughter erupting from her lips. Only Johnny Wilde could get away with something like that.