“Still not a chatterbox, I see.” Liam scrubbed at his face with one hand, and when he dropped it, weariness had replaced the glower. “Keep your secrets about your fabulous life overseas as a badass. I really don’t care. I have more important things to get straight.”
The weariness was new. Kyle remembered his brother as being a lot of things—a betrayer, first and foremost—but not tired. It looked wrong on his face. As wrong as the constant pain etched into Kyle’s own face when he looked in the mirror. Which was why he’d quit looking in the mirror.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning.” Kyle jerked his head toward what he hoped was still the kitchen. “Maybe we can hash it out over tea?”
It was too early in the morning for Jack Daniel’s, though he might make an exception, pending the outcome of the conversation.
Liam nodded and spun to stride off toward the back of the house. Following him, Kyle was immediately blinded by all the off-white cabinets in the kitchen. His brother hadn’t left a stone unturned when he’d gotten busy redoing the house. Modern appliances in stainless steel had replaced the old harvest gold ones and new double islands dominated the center. A wall of glass overlooked the back acreage that stretched for miles until it hit Old Man Drucker’s property. Or what had been Drucker’s property ten years ago. Obviously Kyle wasn’t up-to-date about what had been going on since he’d left.
Without ceremony, Liam splashed some tea into a cup from a pitcher on the counter and shoved the cup into his hand. “Tea. Now talk to me about Margaret Garner.”
Hot. Blonde. Nice legs. Kyle visualized the woman instantly. But that was a name he hadn’t thought about in—wow, like almost a year.
“Margaret Garner? What does she have to do with any—”
The question died in his throat. Almost a year. Like long enough to grow a baby or two? Didn’t mean it was true. Didn’t mean they were his babies.
It felt like a really good time to sit down, and he thought maybe he could do it without tipping off Liam how badly his leg ached 24-7.
He fell heavily onto a bar stool at the closest island, tea forgotten and shoulders ten pounds heavier. “San Antonio. She was with a group of friends at Cantina Juarez. A place where military groupies hang out.”
“So you did sleep with her?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Kyle said noncommitally. They were long past the kiss-and-tell stage of their relationship, if they’d ever been that close. When Liam took up with Grace ten years ago, it had killed any fragment of warmth between them, warmth that was unlikely to return.
“You made it my business when you didn’t come home to take care of your daughters,” Liam countered, as his fists balled up again.
“Take another swing at me and you’ll get real cozy with the floor in short order.” Kyle contemplated his brother. Who was furious. “So Margaret came around with some babies looking for handouts? I hope you asked for a paternity test before you wrote a check.”
This was bizarre. Of all the conversations he’d thought he’d be having with Liam, this was not it. Babies. Margaret. Paternity test. None of these things made sense, together or separately.
Why hadn’t any of Liam’s messages been relayed? Probably because he hadn’t called the right office—by design. Kyle hadn’t exactly made it clear how Liam could reach him. Maybe it was a blessing that Kyle hadn’t known. He couldn’t have hopped on a plane anyway.
Kyle couldn’t be a father. He barely knew how to be a civilian and had worked long and hard at accepting that he wasn’t part of a SEAL team any longer.
It was twice as hard to accept that after being discharged, he had nowhere to go but back to the ranch where he’d never fit in, never belonged. His injury wasn’t supposed to be a factor as he figured out what to do with the rest of his life, since God hadn’t seen fit to let him die alongside Cortez. But being a father—to twins, no less—meant he had to think about what a busted leg meant for a man’s everyday life. And he did not like thinking about how difficult it was some days to simply stand.
Liam threw up a hand, a scowl crawling onto his expression. “Shut up a minute. No one wrote any checks. You’re the father of the babies, no question.”
Well, Kyle had a few questions. Like why Margaret hadn’t contacted him when she found out she was pregnant. While Liam had little information on his whereabouts, Margaret sure knew how to get in touch. Her girlfriend had been dating Cortez and called him all the time. She’d known exactly where he was stationed.
It was nothing short of unforgivable. “Where’s Margaret?”
“She died,” Liam bit out shortly. “While giving birth. It’s a long story. Do I need to give you a minute?”
Kyle processed that much more slowly than he would have liked. Margaret was dead? It seemed like just yesterday that he’d spent a long weekend with her in a hotel room. She’d been a wildcat, determined to send him back to Afghanistan with enough memories to keep him warm at night, as she’d put it.
He was sad to learn Margaret had passed, sure. He’d liked thinking about her on the other side of the world, living a normal life that he was helping to secure by going after bad guys. But they’d spent less than forty-eight hours together and had barely known each other, by design. He wasn’t devastated—it wasn’t as if he’d lost the love of his life or anything. Not like when he’d lost Grace.
“We used protection,” he muttered. As if that was the most important thing to get straight at this point. “I don’t understand. How did she get pregnant?”
“The normal way, I imagine. Moron.” Liam rolled his eyes the way he’d always done when they were younger. “Do you have any interest whatsoever in meeting your daughters?”
Kyle blinked. “Well...yeah. Of course. What happened to them after Margaret died? Who’s taking care of them?”
“I am. Me and Hadley. Who’s the most amazing woman. She’s the nanny I hired when you didn’t respond to any of my calls.”
Reeling, Kyle tried to gather some of his wits, but they seemed as scattered and filmy as clouds on a mild spring day. “Thanks. That’s... You didn’t have to. That’s above the call of duty.”
Liam crossed his arms, biceps rippling under the sleeve of his T-shirt. “They’re great babies. Beautiful. And I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I love them. Hadley and I, we’re planning to keep on taking care of them, too.”
“That’s not going to happen. You’ve spent the last ten minutes whaling on me about not coming home to take responsibility for this. I’m here. I’m man enough to step up.” He set his jaw, which still throbbed. “I want to see them.”
The atmosphere fairly vibrated with animosity as they stared each other down, neither blinking, neither backing down. Something flickered through Liam’s gaze and he gave one curt nod.
“Fine.” Liam called up the stairs off the kitchen that led to the upper stories.
After the longest three minutes of Kyle’s life, he heard footsteps and a pretty, blonde woman who must be the nanny came down the stairs. But Kyle only had eyes for the pink bundles, one each in the crook of her arms.
Sucker punch number two.
Those were real, live, honest-to-God babies. What the hell was he thinking, saying that he wanted to see them? What was that supposed to prove? That he didn’t know squat about babies?
They were so small. Nearly identical. Twins, like Kyle and Liam. He’d always heard that identical twins skipped generations, but apparently not.
“What are their names?” he whispered.
“Madeline and Margaret Wade,” the woman responded, and the babies lifted their heads toward the sound of her voice. Clearly she’d spent a lot of time with them. “We call them Maddie and Maggie for short.”
Somehow that seemed perfect for their little wrinkled faces. “Can I hold them?”
&n
bsp; “Sure. This is Maggie.” She handed over the first one and cheerfully helped Kyle get the baby situated without being asked, which he appreciated more than he could possibly say because his stupid hands suddenly seemed too clumsy to handle something so breakable.
Hey, little girl. He couldn’t talk over the lump in his throat, and no one seemed inclined to make him, so he just looked at her. His heart thumped as it expanded, growing larger the longer he held his daughter. That was a kick in the pants. Who would have thought you could instantly love someone like that? It should have taken time. But there it was.
Now what? What if she cried? What if he cried?
He’d hoped a flood of knowledge would magically appear if he could just get his hands on the challenge. You didn’t learn to hack through vegetation with a machete until you put it in your palm and started hacking.
“You can take her back,” he said gruffly, overwhelmed with all the emotion he had no idea what to do with. But there was still another one. Another daughter. He found new appreciation for the term double trouble.
“This one is Maddie,” the woman said.
Somehow, the other pink bundle ended up in his arms. Instantly, he could tell she was smaller, weighing less than her sister. Strange. She felt even more fragile than her sister, as if Kyle should be careful how heavily he breathed or he might blow her to the ground with an extra big huff.
Equal parts love and fierce devotion surged through the heart he’d already thought was full, splitting it open. She’d need someone to look out for her. To protect her.
That’s on me. My job.
And then being a father made all the sense in the world. These were his girls. The reason he wasn’t dead in a foxhole flopped out next to Cortez right now. The Almighty got it perfectly right some days.
“And this is Hadley Wade, my wife,” Liam broke in with the scowl that seemed to be a permanent part of his face nowadays. “We still introduce ourselves in these parts.”
“It’s okay,” Hadley said with a hand on Liam’s elbow. Her palm settled into the crook comfortably, as if they were intimate often. “Give him a break. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’m done.” Kyle rubbed his free hand across his military-issue buzz cut, but it didn’t stimulate his brain much. He contemplated Hadley, the woman Liam had casually mentioned that he’d married, as if that was some small thing. “I don’t think there’s much more I can take in. I appreciate what you’ve done in my stead, but these are my girls. I want to be their father, in all the ways that count. I’m here and I’m sticking around Royal.”
That hadn’t been set in his mind until this moment. But it would take a bulldozer to shove him onto a different path now.
“Well, it’s not as simple as all that,” Liam corrected. “Their mama is gone and you weren’t around. So even though I have temporary custody, these girls became wards of the state and had a social worker assigned. You’re gonna have to deal with the red tape before you start joining the PTA and picking out matching Easter dresses.”
Wearily, Kyle nodded. “I get that. What do I have to do?”
Hadley and Liam exchanged glances and a sense of foreboding rose up in Kyle’s stomach.
With a sigh, Liam pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call their social worker. But before she gets here, you should know that it’s Grace Haines.”
Grace. The name hit him in the solar plexus and all the air rushed from his lungs.
Sucker punch number three.
* * *
Grace Haines had avoided looking at the date all day, but it sneaked up on her after lunch. She stared at the letters and numbers she’d just typed on a case file.
March 12. The third anniversary of the day she’d become a Professional Single Girl. She should get cake. Or a card. Something to mark the occasion of when she’d given up the ghost and decided to be happy with her career as a social worker. Instead of continually dating men who were nice enough, but could never live up to her standards, she’d learn to be by herself.
Was it so wrong to want a man who doted on her as her father did with her mother? She wasn’t asking for much. Flowers occasionally. A text message here and there with a heart emoticon and a simple thinking of you. Something that showed Grace was a priority. That the guy noticed when she wasn’t there.
Yeah, that was dang difficult, apparently. The decision to stop actively looking for Mr. Right and start going to museums and plays as a party of one hadn’t been all that hard. As a bonus, she never had to compromise on date night by seeing a science fiction movie where special effects drowned out the dialogue. She could do whatever she wanted with her Saturday nights.
It was great. Or at least that was what she told herself. Loudly. It drowned out the voice in her heart that kept insisting she would never get the family she desperately wanted if she didn’t date.
In lieu of a Happy Professional Single Girl cake, Grace settled for a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup from the vending machine and got back to work. The children’s cases the county had entrusted to her were not going to handle themselves, and there were some heartbreakers in her caseload. She loved her job and thanked God every day she got to make a difference in the lives of the children she helped.
If she couldn’t have children of her own, she’d make do with loving other people’s.
Her desk phone rang and she picked up the receiver, accidentally knocking over the framed picture of her mom and dad celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary at a luau in Hawaii. One day she’d go there, she vowed as she righted the frame. Even if she had to travel to Hawaii solo, it was still Hawaii.
“Grace Haines. How can I help you today?”
“It’s Liam,” the voice on the other end announced, and the gravity in his tone tripped her radar.
“Are the girls all right?” Panicked, Grace threw a couple of manila folders into her tote in preparation to fly to her car. She could be at Wade Ranch in less than twenty minutes if she ignored the speed limit and prayed to Jesus that Sheriff Battle wasn’t sitting in his squad car at the Royal city limits the way he usually did. “What’s happened to the babies? It’s Maddie, isn’t it? I knew that she wasn’t—”
“The girls are fine,” he interrupted. “They’re with Hadley. It’s Kyle. He came home.”
Grace froze, mid-file transfer. The manila folder fell to the floor in slow motion from her nerveless fingers, opened at the spine and spilled papers across the linoleum.
“What?” she whispered.
Kyle.
Her first kiss. Her first love. Her first taste of the agonizing pain a man could cause.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. The twin daughters Kyle Wade had fathered were parentless, or so she’d convinced herself. That was the only reason she’d taken the case, once Liam assured her he’d called the USO, the California base Kyle had shipped out of and the President of the United States. No response, he’d said.
No response meant no conflict of interest.
If Kyle was back, her interest was so conflicted, she couldn’t even see through it.
“He’s here. At Wade Ranch,” Liam confirmed. “You need to come by as soon as possible and help us sort this out.”
Translation: Liam and Hadley wanted to adopt Maddie and Maggie and with Kyle in the picture, that wasn’t as easy as they’d all assumed. Grace would have to convince him to waive his parental rights. If he didn’t want to, then she’d have to assess Kyle’s fitness as a parent and potentially even give him custody, despite knowing in her heart that he’d be a horrible father. It was a huge tangle.
The best scenario would be to transfer the case to someone else. But on short notice? Probably wasn’t going to happen.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Liam. It’ll work out.”
Grace hung up and dropped her head down into th
e crook of her elbow.
Somehow, she was supposed to go to Wade Ranch and do her job, while ignoring the fact that Kyle Wade had broken her heart into tiny little pieces, and then promptly joined the military, as if she hadn’t mattered at all. And somehow, she had to ignore the fact that she still wasn’t over it. Or him.
Copyright © 2016 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488001581
Snowbound with the Boss
Copyright © 2016 by Maureen Child
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