Mitzy nodded, her expression changing from concern to feminine understanding. Clearly, Poppy noted, her childhood friend had another idea why that might be.
Trace’s expression reflected a light-bulb moment on his part, too. “And if either one of you makes a crack about early menopause...” Poppy warned.
Because that absolutely was not happening here!
Trace lifted both hands in abject surrender. “Hey! I would never be that dumb.” He mugged at her comically. “I’m Bitsy’s son, remember?” And his mom was forever ageless.
Poppy couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“Okay, you two quit horsing around and answer the question. Poppy, you first,” Mitzy demanded in a stern voice. “Why have you never considered marriage up ’til now?”
Having had ample time to compose herself, even though she was still sweltering from the inside out, Poppy finally said, “I never found the right man at the right time.” Out of the corner of her eye, Poppy could see that Trace looked...was that hurt?
Mitzy noticed, too. “Trace?” she prodded.
He flexed his broad shoulders. “I’m not sure I believe in the traditional version of marriage, and that’s all most women seem to want.”
Nice and vague. And hurtful, too. What had he meant by “most women”? Had he thought about hooking up with or marrying anyone else? Even in the abstract?
Mitzy tapped her pen. “You didn’t want family?”
“I have one. In the military.”
“Do you think this one with Poppy and the twins will work?”
Trace nodded, exuding confidence. “Yes, because we’re not going to be locked into the usual domestic situation where we both have to sacrifice everything we care about just to make the other person happy.”
“But if a situation arises where Poppy or the children need you there—say if one of them gets ill—do you intend to be there?”
“Of course,” Trace said immediately.
“Although that sort of depends on where you are stationed and whether or not you can get emergency leave, correct?” Mitzy pressed.
Trace nodded, a flash of something that might have been guilt—or worry—flashing in his eyes.
“Which means you’ll likely miss most of the routine stuff. Like the first ear infection, or cold, or sleepless night due to any number of things.”
Trace shrugged. Although Poppy could see the thought of leaving her to handle absolutely everything on her own with the kids was beginning to get to him. Her, too, really, although there truly was no need. She jumped in, “I have plenty of family in the area to assist me with all the challenges. And let’s not forget that both my parents, as well as a sister and brother-in-law are all doctors.”
Mitzy asked Poppy, “So you don’t mind that the four of you are going to spend a lot of time apart?”
Of course she wished the situation were otherwise! Poppy thought in frustration. She hated knowing that Trace likely would not see—in person anyway—the twins first steps, or their first emerging tooth, or hear them utter their first word. But they did have Skype! And email. And Instagram, and all manner of social media tools to help them stay connected.
But of course, that wasn’t what Mitzy was asking.
Poppy smiled, demonstrating she and her new husband were on the same page. “Trace and I both like our freedom. That doesn’t mean we won’t be good parents or good parenting partners, because we will.”
Mitzy paused. “So there was never a point in which marriage seemed that it might be a possibility for you two, before now?”
The two of them exchanged looks. Poppy could tell they were both thinking the same thing. “No,” they said at the same time.
“And yet,” Mitzy continued, “when I spoke with your commanding officer, Trace, he told quite a different story.”
Poppy tensed.
“What do you mean?” he asked with a frown.
“He said you never intended not to be here to marry Poppy in person.” Mitzy gestured affably. “That the paperwork for the proxy was only put through as a failsafe measure, in case you got hung up somewhere along the way—due to inclement weather or a canceled flight—and didn’t make it in time for the ceremony.”
Poppy looked at Trace in astonishment. To her frustration, he was poker-faced.
The social worker leaned forward. “Your CO said that the minute you heard someone else was going to be standing in for you during the ceremony, you were adamant you be here.”
Heart pounding, Poppy noted Trace did not deny it.
Mitzy turned to her. “Did you know this, Poppy?”
Her feelings in turmoil, she said, “No.” The situation Mitzy described didn’t sound like the man she knew. Or thought she knew. He had never been jealous. Territorial. Possessive.
“Which is why I’m surprised to see you’re not wearing a wedding band, Trace,” Mitzy continued.
At least this was something they could easily explain! “We haven’t actually had time to get one, although we did talk about it,” Poppy said at the same time Trace said, “We’ve got a band that matches Poppy’s on order.”
Another shocker. She blew out a breath. “We do?” She thought he had forgotten all about it, since he hadn’t mentioned it again.
Not that it really mattered in any case.
Trace slid her a look. “I went Monday, while you were working at the Chamberlain Ranch. I guess I forgot to tell you.”
“Well.” Mitzy smirked, triumphant. “Seems like you two have a lot to talk about and catch up on.”
No kidding, Poppy thought, still a little dazed by all that had been revealed.
Mitzy slid her notes into a thick manila folder and stood. “Look, I know you two are due over at the elementary school at eleven-thirty to work on the Cards for Soldiers project. So how about we finish this on Friday, if that works better?”
* * *
POPPY WAS SILENT as they left the social services building and made the short drive to the elementary school. He could hardly blame her. Frankly, he felt as if they had been put through the wringer, too. Although he supposed it was par for the course. Mitzy Martin had to make sure he and Poppy knew what they were doing. And they did.
“Sorry I forgot to mention the wedding band,” he said gruffly as they gathered up the art supplies they were donating to the project. Shutting the tailgate of his rented SUV, he turned to face her.
“That’s okay.” She shifted a shopping bag to each hand. He did the same. She slanted him a look as they walked through the sea of cars in the school parking lot. “I’m more interested in what your commanding officer had to say.” Her voice had a little catch in it. “Did you really plan to be here for our wedding all along?”
Trace inhaled a ragged breath, suddenly at a loss for words. He was surprised she didn’t know by now. He would do anything for her. She meant that much to him.
Aware they had a little time and this was something that needed to be talked about in private, he slowed his steps accordingly. “Yeah. I mean, there were a lot of variables that could have thrown a monkey wrench into the plans. I was thousands of miles away. Transportation needed to be arranged, leave okayed, orders put through. I honestly wasn’t sure I could pull it off in time and, given what happened during your sister Maggie’s first wedding—”
Poppy grinned. “Her legendary bolt as she started to walk down the aisle?”
“I didn’t want to be the groom that didn’t show—or appeared to change his mind.” And he especially hadn’t wanted to disappoint Poppy.
She searched his face, her heart in her eyes. “So why go to so much trouble, then?”
“Put yourself in my situation, darlin’. Would you have wanted another woman standing in for you during our wedding ceremony, if we’d conducted a proxy wedding where I wa
s stationed instead?”
She pursed her lips. He waited.
“No. I really wouldn’t have wanted any other woman in my place,” she finally admitted. “Even if you hadn’t kissed ‘the bride.’”
He grinned at the territorial look in her pretty brown eyes and then immediately sobered as a disturbing thought hit him. “Were you planning to kiss my stand-in?” he demanded.
She squared her slender shoulders, the movement making her breasts stand out. Delectably. “No. Of course not.”
“Not even a peck on the cheek?”
“Not even a handshake,” she affirmed in a way that left him feeling much, much better. “You, on the other hand—” her glance trailed over him seductively “—would have received a kiss blown your way via Skype.”
Good to know she felt that way.
Poppy came to a dead halt as they neared the entrance to the school. She stepped back, so they were standing next to the lawn. He moved back, too.
“We never talked about being exclusive,” she murmured, her eyes darkening in the way they always did when she felt ill-at-ease. “We just sort of were in that ‘best friends turned lovers’ way.” She set her shopping bags down and shrugged. “But at the same time, I knew that if you ever did meet the love of your life,” she said, her voice going abruptly hoarse, “I’d do the honorable thing and let you go, wishing you only the best.”
He nodded, not sure what she was asking him, only knowing what he felt deep inside. “And up to now,” he admitted, cupping her cheek in his hand, “I’ve always known that I would do the same for you.” Even if he sure as hell would not have wanted to. “Because,” he pushed on, his voice sounding a little rusty, too, “all I’ve ever wanted, Poppy, is for you to be happy.”
“Only now we’re married,” she said.
Yes, they were.
And as long as they were...
“So maybe it’s time we shut down that avenue for good,” he declared.
* * *
TRACE’S MATTER-OF-FACT pronouncement was as practical as he was. So why, Poppy wondered, was she disappointed?
What had she expected? That he would use this moment to tell her his feelings had begun to change, just as hers had? That all of a sudden he found himself falling in love with her?
That wasn’t him.
It wasn’t her, either.
The notion that it might be...well, it was just a sentimental time of year. And an emotional one, too, now that she was finally about to get off the waiting list and adopt twins and have the family she had wanted since...forever.
“Poppy? You okay?” Trace’s handsome face was etched with concern.
She nodded. “Yes. I just have a lot on my mind.”
Very little of which I can share.
Fortunately she had no more time to think about it as she and Trace went in to help the fifth-grade classes with their Holiday Cards for Soldiers project.
The teachers made introductions and Poppy explained where the cards were going and why. Then Trace took the floor for questions while the kids worked.
“Tamara and Bobby are going to be so sorry they missed this,” one of the little girls said.
Curious, Poppy asked, “Where are they?”
“Stomach flu,” one of the teachers said. “It just started going around. Hopefully, that’s the beginning and end of it.”
Poppy hoped so, too. “I hope they feel better soon.”
“Maybe we could make them Get Well Soon cards when we finish,” the head teacher suggested. “In the meantime, who has questions for Lieutenant Caulder?”
A sea of hands quickly shot up. Trace took the floor. Looking incredibly handsome and buff in his military fatigues, he pointed to a pudgy child in the front row.
“Do you like being a pilot?” the child asked.
He nodded. “Very much.”
“Don’t you get scared, being around sick people so much?” a bespectacled kid wondered.
“No. They need my help. And I’m glad to give it.”
“Where are you stationed?” another girl asked shyly.
The teacher pulled the map of the world down over the chalkboard. Trace showed them.
For a moment all was silent.
It was an awfully long way away, Poppy thought wistfully.
A little girl raised her hand. “How long does it take to get there?”
“Usually around a day or a day and a half,” Trace responded patiently. “It depends on the travel arrangements, but...a long time.”
And he was always gone a long time, too, Poppy thought, her heart panging in her chest.
“What about at Christmas?” another boy asked.
“I’m usually there during the holidays, too,” Trace admitted. He tossed an affectionate look Poppy’s way. “Not this year, though.”
She was happy about that, too.
“Isn’t it hard being so far away from your family all the time?” a little girl asked. “Especially at Christmas?”
Yes, Poppy thought, for her it would be.
For Trace?
“The military is my family,” he said gruffly.
“Except now,” a teacher interjected quickly to amend, “you have a family here in Texas, too. Since the lieutenant and Ms. Poppy just got married last week.”
A chorus of excited “Ohs” followed. Poppy blushed despite herself. Trace just looked...satisfied, in that distinctly male way.
“And rumor has it,” another teacher said, “they’re about to adopt twins!”
“Twins!” The kids’ eyes lit up.
“Cool,” declared one.
“That’s a lot of babies,” warned one student.
“A lot of dirty diapers, too,” giggled another.
“So will you take Ms. Poppy and the babies with you when you go back to the Middle East?”
“No. It’s too dangerous over there right now for that.”
A contemplative silence fell as the kids went back to decorating the holiday cards for the servicemen and women.
Finally one of the kids frowned and piped up, “So does that mean you won’t get to see your new babies at all, Lieutenant.?”
“I’ll see them,” Trace said in a low, determined tone.
Just not as much as either of them would like, Poppy thought sadly. And that was something their kids, like her, would just have to learn to deal with.
Chapter Nine
“Problem?” Trace asked.
Their stint at the Holiday Cards for Soldiers session finished, goodbyes and thank-yous said, they walked out to the parking lot.
Poppy lifted her phone for him to see. “The usual. Several emails from clients who, having been unable to make up their minds for months now, suddenly have decided and want everything done yesterday.”
Knowing how much he liked to drive when he was back in the States, she handed him the keys to her minivan.
He opened the passenger door. “What are you going to do?”
Smiling at his sudden show of gallantry, Poppy slid into her seat. “Write them back and tell them what the time frame is for delivery of services. And then see what they want to do. Move forward or find somebody else.”
He shut her door then circled around and settled behind the wheel. “Are you going to be able to work once the babies come home?” He fit the key in the ignition.
Acutely aware how “familial” this conversation was, how much they had already started acting like husband and wife, Poppy shifted toward him. Her eyes briefly holding his, she admitted, “I’m not going to take on any new clients for a few months. I’ll have my team of contractors and painters and stagers finish out the existing work. Then go from there.”
Trace draped his arm behind her as he backe
d out of the space. “Are you going to be okay financially?”
Please tell me he’s not going to try to call the shots now that he’s slipping into the husband role.
“Yes, dear,” she teased at his too protective tone.
Wanting him to continue to see her as his equal in every way, she told him, “I’ve been putting money aside for this for years. So I’d be able to take as much time off as I need when I finally became a mom.” And not have to worry about anything but savoring the moment. Just as she was trying to do now with Trace.
Trace frowned. “Like I said before, if you need assistance...”
“No, really, it’s okay. I’ve got it covered.”
He nodded, believing in her, as he always did. “So where to?” he asked casually.
Poppy turned on the car radio. The nostalgic strains of “Silver Bells” filled the air. “Home. At least for me. I’ve got twelve dozen chocolate-crinkle cookies to make before tonight’s cookie swap with the family over at my mom and dad’s house.”
He flashed her a wolfish grin. “Am I invited?”
“Of course.” Which would make one of her favorite holiday events all the more special this year.
* * *
“DON’T LAUGH.”
Poppy couldn’t help it. “You look ridiculous in that frilly apron.” The print featuring reindeer and Santa’s sleigh was okay. Sort of. But the ruffles along the straps and edges was not. Plus, something that was meant for a woman of average height and weight did not exactly fit a solidly muscled, six-foot-four man.
He turned this way and that, preening comically. “I think I look rather dashing.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“Just not the correct one?” he teased back.
She grinned. Both of them had changed into jeans and flannel shirts the moment they’d walked in the door and then headed for the kitchen to get right down to business. Or so she’d thought.
Poppy shook her head at him remonstratively, then put baking chocolate over the double boiler to melt. She motioned him closer. He complied with a masculine ease that made her heart pound.
“Stir this.” Hand over his, she demonstrated what she wanted him to do.
Lone Star Twins Page 10
