by Reese Ryan
“Everything okay?” Benji tapped her leg, drawing her attention back to him. He’d been wearing the same big grin from the moment the doctor had released them from the hospital. She only wished she felt as ready as he did to begin this thing in earnest. To be the full-time parents of two little people who were dependent upon them for everything.
This was something she couldn’t afford to screw up. The stakes were much too high.
It had been easy to judge her own parents. To play Monday-morning quarterback and point out all the ways in which they’d failed. But now that the responsibility was hers, she felt the enormity of the weight upon her, even as her heart expanded with love for the twins and affection for their father.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I’m just a little tired. That’s all. Hopefully, they’ll sleep for a couple of hours so I can get a nap in. Maybe take a hot shower.”
Benji frowned, his hands tightening on the wheel. “You said you were tired of lying in bed all day at the hospital. And before that you’d spent so much time isolated at the cabin. I thought maybe you’d want to—”
“You thought maybe I’d want to do what?” She looked up as they approached the cabin. There were five or six cars parked in the long drive.
Sloane recognized several of the vehicles. Delia’s car and Rick and Connie Bennett’s SUV were notably absent.
“You invited all of these people here as soon as we got home?” Her face flushed with heat and her spine tensed. She raked her fingers through her hair, which was just short of a hot mess after her hospital stay.
“They wanted to welcome you, Beau and Bailey home.” He sounded so apologetic that she shifted the focus from her rising anger to how he must be feeling.
Sloane shut her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. “This was thoughtful of you, Benj. Really.”
“Are you sure? Because if you just want to crash, I’m sure they’ll understand. I’ll explain that I hadn’t considered that you’d be wiped out.”
“It’s okay. I know they’re eager to meet the twins. I’ll catch up on my sleep later.”
He smiled uneasily and nodded. “Okay, great. Because everyone is excited to see you, too.”
He pulled in front of the cabin and parked, then came around the car to help her out, refusing to allow her to carry the babies’ car seats.
He ushered her inside where her mother, Blake, Savannah and Blake’s sister, Zora, warmly greeted her. Her grandfather hung back, seated on the sofa watching television and drinking a beer, wearing his typical frown. Parker greeted her with a curt, but polite nod, then went out to help Blake and Benji bring in the babies in their car seats, her bag and the collection of baby things they’d gathered while in the hospital.
“So how does it feel being a mother now?” Zora asked, guiding her to take a seat on another sofa. “It must seem surreal, right? Especially since you weren’t really expecting it.”
Sloane had always appreciated that Zora was pretty straightforward. She was similar to her brother Parker in that way. But Parker’s directness often made him come off as an arrogant asshole, particularly to those who didn’t know him well. Zora’s honesty, on the other hand, had the charm and sweetness of the lone girl raised in a house full of boys.
“It was a strange but also kind of wonderful experience.” Sloane smiled as her mother and Savannah lifted the babies out of their car seats and fussed over them. “I’ve been talking to them since the first time I felt them move. But once I saw their little faces...” Tears stung her eyes and her voice broke, but her smile deepened. “Well, it’s just really hard to explain.”
“Not to me.” Savannah sat beside her holding Bailey. “I know exactly what you mean. Davis was completely unexpected and the situation between me and Blake was so dire when I learned I was pregnant. I’m thrilled that everything worked out between me and Blake.” She smiled at him adoringly as he helped Benji and Parker carry items to the nursery. “But even if it hadn’t, I could never regret having Davis. Blake is the love of my life. My rock. But Davis is my heart. And Blake feels the same.”
“You guys seem very happy.” Sloane was glad for her friend Blake. He’d had a relationship go terribly wrong a few years earlier, then his relationship with Savannah had nearly blown up when he discovered who she really was—the granddaughter of a man who believed he rightfully deserved half of the Abbott family’s distillery.
Despite all of the drama over Savannah having surreptitiously come to town to exact revenge on the Abbotts, they’d managed to reconcile. They’d been mature enough to realize that despite the circumstances, they were meant to be together. And little Davis was a happy surprise.
“Speaking of Davis, where is he?” Sloane looked around the cabin.
“He’s with his Grandpa Duke and Grandma Iris. They’re spoiling him to death, I’m sure. I guess it pays to be the first grandchild in a family this big.”
Sloane watched her mother fussing over Beau. It had been sweet seeing how much she loved and adored the twins. Sloane couldn’t ever remember having a relationship like that with her own grandfather. Even in her earliest memories of him, he was wearing the same scowl he wore now as his gaze periodically drifted in her direction.
“My grandfather isn’t going to make his way over here, so I guess I’ll go over and say hi to him.” Sloane groaned, slowly getting up from the sofa. Her body was still sore.
“While you’re gone, maybe Savannah will share the baby since she’s already got one of her own.” Zora eyed her sister-in-law, who brushed her lips over little Bailey’s forehead.
“They’re so sweet and they smell so good at this stage,” Savannah said dreamily. “Makes me want another one.”
“We have a spare, so you can always borrow one.” Benji grinned, approaching them. He held a hand out to Sloane. “Hey, come here. Let me show you something.”
She slipped her hand in his, conscious of everyone else in the room watching them and of the knowing looks they shared.
“I was just about to say hello to my grandfather. Give me a sec?”
“Sure.” Sloane could tell he was trying not to sound disappointed. “Meet me in the nursery when you’re done.”
She nodded, then made her way across the room to the other sofa and sat beside her grandfather, who hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge her approach.
“Hey, Granddad.”
“Sloane.” He polished off a little meatball on a toothpick. Marcellus had outdone himself putting together this little spread for their guests. “Glad you and the twins made it home and that you’re all okay.”
“Thanks, Granddad.” She swiped one of the little meatballs, a fried ravioli and a potato-cheese-and-onion fritter. They were all foods that Marcellus knew to be favorites of hers.
Her grandfather gave a disapproving groan but didn’t object. With his dietary restrictions, he shouldn’t be eating half of the food on his plate.
“No more beer,” she admonished sternly. “Or do you want me to text your doctor a picture of your plate?”
He grunted more loudly this time. “Fine.”
It was as close as Atticus Ames was going to get to saying he loved her, a fact of life she’d accepted and convinced herself she was okay with. But she was moved by how deeply and immediately her mother had bonded with the twins. And by hearing Savannah gush about the relationship little Davis had with his grandparents.
Would her life have been different if she’d had that kind of relationship with her grandfather?
“I notice those uppity Bennetts still haven’t come around yet.” He added an indignant humph. “They always did think that girl of theirs was too good to be friends with you. Connie is probably about to pop an artery because her grandbabies share a bloodline with the likes of us.”
“We’re surrounded by their relatives and the subject is a sensitive one for Benji, so please refrain
from badmouthing them here.” Sloane glanced around the room to see if any of the Abbotts had overheard their conversation. “You and Mama can bellyache about my choice of in-laws in the truck on the way home.”
“Unless you two stopped at the local magistrate on the way here, them ain’t no relatives of mine.”
Sloane wondered how long it would take her grandfather to bring up the fact that she and Benji weren’t married. She wouldn’t take the bait. Not today.
“I have to see what Benji wants.” She swayed a little as she stood. Her grandfather nearly dropped his plate to steady her.
Sloane thanked him and headed down the hall to join Benji in the nursery. If Atticus Ames was willing to sacrifice food that good to keep her from falling, maybe he cared a little more than she thought.
* * *
Benji snapped a photo as the nursery door opened and Sloane stepped inside.
Her mouth fell open and she pressed her fingers to her parted lips. A range of emotions played out on her lovely face as she surveyed the room, which had still been undone when she’d been admitted to the hospital to have the twins.
“Oh, my God. It’s completely finished.” Her voice relayed surprise, but none of the joy he’d expected. “It’s beautiful.”
Her smile seemed forced as she ran her fingertips along the edge of one of the handcrafted cribs made from locally sourced birch. He’d commissioned them from Zora’s best friend, Dallas Hamilton, a local who’d turned his passion for making handcrafted furniture into an international, multimillion dollar business.
Benji had stalled on finishing the twins’ nursery because Dallas’s commissioned pieces were in high demand, and there was a long waiting list.
The cribs were placed against one wall, separated by a different changing table than the one they’d previously purchased. The shiplap walls had been primed and painted a soft green, and there was a new mural of birch trees, similar to the ones outside of the nursery window. Each of their names was spelled out in handcrafted wooden letters that appeared to hang from the branches of the trees in the mural over their individual cribs. Bailey’s letters were painted pink and Beau’s were blue. Luxe two-toned silk was suspended over each crib from a rustic cornice, also made from birch. The fabric fanned out to form an elegant little canopy over each crib.
The dressers and changing table were also constructed of matching birch. A luxurious half rocker upholstered in a sage-green fabric completed the furniture in the room. Every piece of furniture in the room was a Dallas Hamilton original.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said finally, standing in the center of the room and turning slowly as she took it all in. “It’s very different from what we’d discussed...but it’s beautiful. More so than anything I could’ve come up with.” There was almost a hint of sadness in her voice.
“But you like it, right?”
“It’s stunning. How could I not like it?” Her expression was neutral, as if she were stating an indisputable fact. She looked at the cribs again. “What happened to the cribs I bought?”
“They were really nice. But when Zora mentioned that Dallas does custom cribs, I thought it’d be really special to have heirloom pieces made just for them.”
“And they’re lovely,” she agreed, her arms folded. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Since we weren’t using them, I thought you’d want them to go to someone who could. I donated them to a women’s shelter in Gatlinburg.” He took a few steps toward her, trailing his fingers down the outside of her arm. He could feel the tension vibrating off her. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, but her eyes looked watery. “They were just wood veneer, purchased at a discount retailer. These are much better.”
She stepped beyond his reach and surveyed the room again with her back to him. As if she needed the space. “How’d you come up with the design?”
“I brought in Kamilla Price, the new interior decorator I told you about. She shot a few ideas past me. I liked them, so I gave her carte blanche to do whatever she liked, as long as she could get it completed before you were released. I’m glad I did. It’s better than anything I could’ve imagined.”
Sloane turned to him wearing a polite smile. “Thank you for taking care of everything, but we’d better get back to our company. Beau and Bailey are probably ready for another nap, so we can take their new cribs for a test spin.”
She gave him an awkward hug and a kiss on the cheek.
He followed her back to the great room to get Beau and Bailey and they put them down for a nap. Then they returned to the impromptu celebration of the twins’ arrival home, both pretending it didn’t hurt that Benji’s parents and his sister weren’t there.
Eight
Sloane lifted her head and checked the clock beside the bed. It was almost noon.
She nearly fell off the bed scrambling to get out of it. The last thing she remembered was feeding the twins in the early morning hours, before the sun rose. But that was several hours ago. Why hadn’t she heard their cries?
The proximity of her room to the nursery was the primary reason she’d returned to her own bed rather than sharing Benji’s. But since they used state-of-the-art video baby monitors, Benji didn’t seem convinced by that argument.
Sloane slid her feet into her slippers and shuffled to the bathroom. Teeth brushed, hair tamed, she made her way to the twins’ room next door.
Beau and Bailey weren’t in their beds. Her heart raced.
Don’t panic. I’m sure Benji has them.
She peeked into his bedroom. He wasn’t there. Sloane stepped out into the hall and heard someone singing softly, but it was a female voice. And not one she recognized.
Sloane padded down the hallway quickly but cautiously. She peered into the kitchen. The babies were in their carriers, perched on the kitchen counter. A woman with long, blond hair pulled into a single messy, one-sided braid was singing to them as she stirred something on the stove.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing with my kids?” Sloane edged closer, casing the room for something she could use as a weapon in case this chick was some bat-shit crazy stalker who was here to steal her babies.
“Please don’t be alarmed, Sloane.” The woman held her hands up, her shoulders tensed. “You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Olivia Henderson—Mrs. H’s niece from Chicago. But please, call me Livvie.”
Sloane’s hackles went down, but only slightly. She vaguely remembered the girl who’d spent a few weeks visiting her aunt during summers growing up. The woman before her bore no resemblance to the gangly, awkward girl with braces and bad skin who sometimes helped her aunt out at the general store.
“Well, Livvie from Chicago, that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my kitchen with my children.” Sloane was standing a few feet from the woman. She’d quickly surveyed the twins to make sure they were fine. They both seemed content.
“Maybe it would be better if Benji explained.”
“Since he’s not here and you are, maybe you’d better explain.” Sloane didn’t like the idea that Benji and this woman shared some conspiratorial secret.
“I had an appointment to meet with both of you this morning, but you were sleeping so soundly that he didn’t want to wake you.”
“If the appointment was with both of us, why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”
Sloane moved in closer, struck by how beautiful the girl was. She was closer to Benji’s age than hers. Her blue eyes were stunning, the color of the Caribbean Sea. And her bronzed skin glowed as if she’d spent more than her share of time on a sandy beach. Her teeth were brilliantly white and perfectly straight.
The braces had obviously paid off.
“Benji wanted to surprise you, I think,” the woman explained. “He had to make a quick run into town, but he’ll be back shortl
y.”
“What was the appointment about?” Sloane pressed. Her tone made it clear she expected a direct answer.
“Surprise.” Livvie shrugged her shoulders, her expression racked with apprehension. “I’m your prospective nanny.”
“You’re my what?” The blood pumped through her veins more quickly.
“Your prospective nan—”
“I heard what you said, obviously.” Sloane clenched her teeth. “But Benji and I talked about this. I was clear that I didn’t need a nanny.”
Sloane pressed a hand to her forehead and paced. She felt hot and cold at the same time and her hands were shaking.
First there was the housekeeper, then a chef and now a nanny?
Was this what their year together would be like? Benji would call all the shots under the guise of surprising her, while completely ignoring her input?
“I’m sure it would’ve come off better had he been here to explain himself,” the girl said apologetically, returning to the stove. She stirred the pot, inhaling the savory scent.
Beau got fussy and started to cry.
“Hello, handsome.” Livvie smiled as she turned off the stove.
She wiped her hands on a rag and reached for the baby, but Sloane stepped in and lifted him from his seat.
“Hey there, Bubba. Did you miss your mama?” She cradled him in her arms. The tension drained from her shoulders when one side of his mouth seemed to pull into a grin. Sloane was fully aware that it was probably just gas. Still, the timing of the pseudo smile made her feel much better.
Sloane kissed Beau’s forehead and slipped her finger into his little hand. Despite being barely more than one week old, Beau had quite the grip.
