“What the hell?” Wyatt rasped.
“What?” Johnny feigned innocence and chuckled.
Brooke couldn’t contain her laughter, either. But Wyatt was not amused.
The conversation halted when James walked into the room with a sizzling platter of Blue Horizon prime rib roast. “Here we go,” he said, setting the platter down carefully in the center of the table. “Wyatt, I’ll do the slicing, if you don’t mind. And Gen can serve the roast up. Is that okay with you, Gen?”
Genevieve gave him a smile and nodded. “I’d love to.”
It was almost comical watching Wyatt struggle to keep his mouth from dropping open. Admittedly, from what Brooke gathered, James and Genevieve hadn’t been this civil with each other in quite a while.
Henrietta walked in with a side dish casserole and then retrieved a basket of home-baked buttermilk biscuits. The room immediately filled with mouthwatering aromas.
It was time to concentrate on the scrumptious meal that looked and smelled delish.
With her stomach on the fritz and her head a little sore, Brooke only hoped she could hold it down.
* * *
The knock on her bedroom door came at precisely nine thirty. From her bed, Brooke stared at the door, fearing who was on the other side. She didn’t want to speak to Wyatt tonight. She had two more days here, and she was trying to make the best of them. Wyatt seemed to have other plans.
“It’s me, Genevieve. Are you awake?”
Surprised, she set her novel down and tossed off her blanket. “Just a sec, Genevieve. I’m coming.”
She slid her arms into her robe and tied it before opening the door. “Hello.”
Genevieve had a helpless look on her face. “I’m sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute?”
“Of course I do. Come in.”
Genevieve entered her room and Brooke led her to the pair of wing chairs that looked out onto Blue Horizon property. The night was dark but for a sliver of moonlight. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” She sat.
So did Brooke. “What’s on your mind?”
Genevieve tilted her head to one side. “James. We took a walk after dinner.”
“Yes, I saw the two of you leave after dessert. So how was it?”
Genevieve inhaled a deep breath. “Wonderful. So sickeningly wonderful, I can’t describe it. I, uh, well, I hope you don’t mind me confiding in you. I can’t imagine talking about this with Wyatt. But James kissed me good-night and it was beyond amazing. It was bells and whistles going off.”
“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“I hope so. We talked at length and decided to take it slow. But I am going to continue seeing him. Do you think that’s the right move?”
“I do, Genevieve. I think taking it slow is a good thing. You can spend more time here in Texas, and maybe he’ll come to visit you in New York.”
“That’s what we’re going to try to do. Maybe split our time and see how it goes. It’ll give me more time with the twins, too.” She nibbled on her lip. “Brooke, is it crazy to do this at my age?”
Brooke smiled. “Not at all. My goodness, Genevieve, if you see what I see when James looks at you, I’d say it’d be crazy not to. If you have feelings for each other, why not explore them?”
Wyatt’s mother began nodding, taking in her suggestion. “I don’t think I would’ve come to this conclusion without you.”
“Me?”
“You’re easy to talk to. I know I can be bitchy at times, but I respected how you managed me.”
“You’re not bitchy, exactly. And I wasn’t managing you.”
“Saying how calling me Mrs. Brandt might confuse my grandchildren? That was just the right comeback for me. And well, after your quick reaction with Brianna today, it was like a boulder being dropped on my head.”
Brooke rubbed her sore skull. “Make that a football and I’d understand.”
“Oh, dear, and I haven’t even asked you about your head.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Go on,” she said.
“Okay, I won’t keep you much longer, I promise. But I wanted to thank you for listening and for your advice today. I have been sort of lost, coming here and seeing James again.”
“Well, if I helped you in any way, I’m glad.”
“You did. I realized today how badly I want more time with my grandchildren. It all seems to fit now. James and me, more visits to the ranch, less city, more country. I think I can do it.”
“I’m happy for you, Genevieve.”
“I’m sad I have to leave day after tomorrow. I haven’t spent any time getting to know you. It’s all been about me. Next time I come out I plan to spend time getting better acquainted with you.”
“Uh, well, that would be nice.” She felt like a heel, letting Genevieve Brandt believe she’d be here when she returned. Not only wasn’t she really the twins’ nanny, she was carrying Wyatt’s baby and couldn’t confide in Genevieve. The woman would probably end up hating her once she found out about all the lies Brooke had told.
What a deep hole she’d dug for herself.
Another soft knock came at her door and she froze. Her heart beat like crazy in her chest. Before her new visitor—more than likely Wyatt—could say something, Brooke called out. “Just a minute!”
Genevieve appeared genuinely surprised. “Who could that be?”
“Probably your son. I promised to give Mr. Brandt my...my schedule for next week. I have to take a few days off and he’d wanted to check with Henrietta to make sure she could cover.”
“Goodness, I wish I could help out. I’d love to, but I’ve had this commitment in Dallas on the books for months.”
Brooke swept over to the door. “It’s going to work out, don’t worry,” she said, opening the door to Wyatt’s somber face. “Mr. Brandt, I’m sorry I forgot to give you my schedule.”
Wyatt stared at her as if she’d grown bull horns, and then noticed his mother walking toward him. He scratched his chin, buying time, and finally catching on. “No problem, I just wanted to remind you. And see how you’re feeling. Hello, Mom.”
“Wyatt. It’s late for Brooke. Don’t keep her up too long. Gosh, you are so much like your dad. He couldn’t go to bed until he dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s.”
“Yeah, the hazards of being a Brandt, I guess.”
“Good night Brooke, get some rest.” Genevieve patted her shoulder gently and then eyed her son for a moment. “Remember, you can discuss business in the morning.”
Wyatt nodded and waited until his mother walked down the hallway and closed the door to her room. Then he sighed. “What was that all about?”
“Mostly about James, but I can’t discuss it.”
Wyatt didn’t press the point. “May I come in?”
“If you have to.”
He frowned and stepped inside her room.
Ten
Brooke tightened the ties on her robe and hugged herself around the middle. Wyatt was giving her his signature devilish blue-eyed look that threatened to devour her in one huge gulp. She didn’t need any more private time with him. She’d told him to stay away, but he didn’t listen very well. “Why are you here?” she asked on a sigh.
He frowned at her bluntness. “I’d like to see your bruise, Brooke.”
“Why? The last time I checked, you didn’t have ‘MD’ behind your name.”
“Are you saying you need a doctor?”
“No, it’s just a bump. It hurt like hell before, but the pain’s gone now.”
“Well, then. Show me. I couldn’t see a damn thing at dinner.”
“What’s the point of having long hair if I can’t cover up my wounds?” She was being deliberately obtuse with him tonight. Because..
.because, darn him, he was standing in her bedroom like her miracle cowboy again, with doggone sympathy and admiration in his eyes. The two didn’t at all mesh, but on him, it looked appealing.
He stood with feet planted wide, hands on his hips, his jaw made of granite. “How bad is it?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Wyatt.” She stepped closer to him and under a halo of lamplight angled her head slightly, pushing her hair to the side. “See, it’s not that bad.”
He winced and his breath rushed out. “There’s definitely a bump there. Dammit. I wish to God you hadn’t gotten hurt.”
She believed him, because Wyatt was a decent man. That was the good news and the bad news.
“I told you at dinner, I’m fine now.”
“What you did for Brianna...” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the words.
“I’m happy she wasn’t hurt,” Brooke said softly. “There’s no need for you to be here worrying about this.”
“Thank you for protecting her.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re making it impossibly hard for me to find a real nanny, you know.”
“You’re just saying that because your mother likes me.”
I even impressed her today.
“You’re likeable, but Mom never takes a shine to people this quickly.”
“She’s not that bad, Wyatt. I feel terrible lying to her about all this.”
“Just for another full day. Then she’ll be on her way.”
Brooke backed up a step and stared into his eyes. “And so will I.”
Wyatt cleared his throat and nodded. “I know. Brooke, listen,” he said, his voice deep and raspy. He came toward her, all iron-jawed handsome, and she closed her eyes.
“Don’t, Wyatt.”
“There are things I need to say to you. Things that need explaining.”
“Look, you’re off the hook, okay?” She smiled, softening her words. “I don’t need to hear all about your heartache and your undying love for your wife. I don’t need you to say nice things to me. I’ll be leaving soon and...and...”
I’m having your baby.
God, it was on the tip of her tongue. But she held back. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d be gone from Blue Horizon. She needed more time before she told him. She needed to gain some perspective. She needed to discuss her situation with Emma and Dylan. Why hadn’t she done that yet? Why had she jumped in with both feet without seeing how deep the bottom was? Without knowing how far she would fall?
Her decision made, she walked to the door and opened it. “Wyatt, I’m tired. I really should get to sleep.”
“All right,” he said, striding to the door. “Good night, Brooke,” he said quietly, and then landed the softest kiss on her cheek. “Sleep well.”
She gazed into his eyes. “You, too.”
He shot her a dubious look, as if the last thing he would do was get a good night’s sleep. He left her at the door and sauntered away. She fixed her focus on his retreating form, all cowboyed up, tight-jeaned and hunky.
Then she closed the door and put her hand to her tummy as tears spilled down her cheeks.
* * *
Brooke sat cross-legged in the great room among wooden alphabet blocks, dolls and two little people cars, playing with Brianna and Brett. The twins were a lot of work, but they were also adorable and sweet and Brooke’s heart broke thinking she’d be leaving them tomorrow. Not only had she fallen for Wyatt, but she’d fallen for his kids, too.
“Here you go, Breezy Peezy.” She handed Brianna a red block.
Brianna flung it across the room.
“No, we don’t do that.”
Brett giggled and it only egged Brianna on. She picked up another block and tossed it as hard as she could. It nearly hit Wyatt’s gazillion-inch flat-screen TV. “Bri. No!”
She grabbed Brianna’s hand and the little girl’s face turned cherry red and she broke down in sobs. “Oh, it’s okay, Bri. It’s okay. Come here.” Brooke cradled her in her arms, absorbing her genuine, honest-to-goodness tears. They soaked her blouse.
She’d been having so much fun playing with them, she didn’t realize their nap time had come and gone, and the twins were both on the verge of hysteria.
Wyatt walked into the room, took one look at Brooke with Brianna and then scooped up Brett. “Nap time.”
“Yeah, it’s overdue. My fault.”
His eyes warmed on his daughter and he ruffled her hair. “They’re just having too much fun with you. It’s hard not to.” He kissed the top of Bri’s head and she immediately stopped crying. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetie.” Then he planted a kiss on Brett’s head. “Up we go.”
They climbed the stairs and entered their nursery, his compliment humming through Brooke’s system. “My mom thinks it’s time for the babies to have their own rooms.”
Brianna had nearly conked out in her arms during the climb up the stairs. Brooke lowered her down gently and the little one curled her body up, nestled down and fell fast asleep. “Well, I’ve told you before, I don’t think there’s any rush. You can do it in a year or so when they develop different tastes.”
“You mean like blue for boys and pink for girls?”
She chuckled quietly. “Only if it’s their choice. Boys do tend to prefer trucks and tractors over princesses and castles. At least that’s how it worked in my family.”
He nodded. “So you think I’ve got some time? They’ve had so many changes in their young lives, I don’t want to make things harder on them.”
“Yes, I think there’s time.”
“Book?” Brett’s tiny voice rang in her ears.
“I’m here,” she whispered. It was so cute how the babies called to her.
He put out his chubby arms and Wyatt made the transfer. Brett liked the way she rocked him to sleep. She bounced him up and down, to and fro, and slowly his inquisitive blue eyes closed. She laid him down.
“You’re good for my kids,” Wyatt said, almost as if he was thinking aloud.
Brooke bit down on her lip to keep from crying herself. She’d been weepy lately, and only part of it was due to her pregnancy. She left the nursery and Wyatt followed her into the hall.
“I’m taking Mom out for dinner on her last night here. James is going and I’d love for you to join us,” he said.
“Oh, Wyatt...no, I don’t think so. I’ll stay home and watch the twins so you can have a peaceful meal.”
“The babies are coming. It’s nothing fancy, but it was my mom and dad’s favorite barbecue place.”
“Suddenly, I have a craving for barbecue again,” Genevieve said, walking up to them. “And I insist you join us, Brooke. It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, uh?” What could she say; it was two against one. “Okay, sure.”
“I’ll drive with James and you and Wyatt can bring the twins.”
* * *
Three hours later, the four of them were seated in a booth at the Brickhouse, James sitting next to Genevieve and Wyatt next to Brooke. She was as close to him as she wanted to get tonight, breathing in his incredibly rich scent of musk and lime. At times, they brushed shoulders. At times, they brushed thighs. It was hard not to react. Hard to pretend there wasn’t more between them. Being here with his family, it dawned on her she really didn’t fit in. She wasn’t part of the love they shared. Even James belonged here more than she did. He’d known the Brandt family for decades.
A pitcher of beer sat on the table, and all three of them had offered at one time or another to pour her a glass. She shook off their attempts, claiming to prefer lemonade to quench her thirst.
But when the ribs were served, with coleslaw, mashed potatoes and corn soufflé, oddly, her stomach didn’t rebel. She dug in as heartily as the others. “Mmm,
this is good.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Genevieve said.
“How long have you been coming here?” Brooke asked.
“Since the place opened,” Genevieve said.
“I think it’s going on forty years, right, Mom?”
Genevieve smiled. “I worked here as a hostess.”
“You did?” James seemed to eat up anything he learned about Genevieve. “I didn’t know that.”
“It was only for a few months. But I got to eat all the free food I wanted. It was my first job.”
They shared a sweet glance.
“My first job was mowing lawns in Ohio. Hostessing sounds like more fun,” Brooke said.
The babies were indulging in mashed potatoes and cut-up chicken tenders.
Everyone seemed content.
Until Brooke looked across the restaurant and nearly spit out her lemonade. There, seated in a booth in the far corner of the place, sat Dylan and his very pregnant wife, Emma. Dylan’s disguise, a cowboy hat and thick glasses, might fool some, but Brooke would know her brother anywhere. She froze in her seat. She couldn’t panic. Thinking fast, she glanced at Wyatt. “Uh, would you excuse me for a second? I need to use the restroom.” She shrugged. “Too much lemonade, I’m afraid.” TMI, too, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Sure thing.” Wyatt scooted out of the booth and she slid out after him.
“Thanks.”
She strolled down the aisle and hoped like hell no one at the Brandt table was watching her. Luckily, she heard the twins begin to whine and grumble, which usually drew all attention their way.
Thankful the restaurant was crowded, with not a single table empty, she made a quick turn to the left, passed two booths and then scooted in next to her brother. He jumped, his eyes going wide seeing her suddenly sitting beside him. “Brooke? What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you. Having dinner and hoping not to be recognized.” She slid a quick glance at her bestie. “Hi, Emma. How’re you feeling?”
“Hungry. Seems I’m always feeling that way lately. It’s good to see you, Brooke. We miss you.”
Twins for the Texan Page 15
