The Reluctant Fiancée (The Taylor Triplets Book 3)

by Lynne Marshall

  “Are we entering the twilight zone?”

  She nodded in total agreement. “We were identical, and she told me I looked like her twin, Eva, as if I didn’t look exactly like her already. We didn’t have a chance to talk, since Junior was nearly birthing himself on the storeroom floor, but man.” She rubbed her forearms, where gooseflesh had popped up. “Her husband was speechless when I went to pick him up. He said it was uncanny how I looked like his wife, Lacy. The woman I’d just helped deliver. He said there was a long story, but he felt it was only right to let Lacy and Eva tell me.” She shook her head, obviously still in disbelief.

  “What if my mother hid a family from me? Or wasn’t even my real mother? She was always so secretive about her past, and she’d never been married—said she never wanted to be. What if she adopted me? She got sick so quickly, we didn’t have a chance to talk before she slipped into the coma. No chance for bedside confessions. How will I ever know the whole story?”

  “Maybe this woman, Lacy, will clear things up.”

  “The weirdest thing of all was her middle name.”

  He offered a confused, questioning glance, content to be her sounding board.

  “I saw the medical forms. Her middle name is Taylor.” There went the hair on her arms again, and this time he joined her with a whispery chill down his spine.

  “That’s beyond coincidence,” he said. “Definitely twilight zone.”

  “I know!” She rolled onto her back and covered her face. “I’m not ready to think about all of this.” Then rolled back to him. “Make love to me again. Please?”

  With that sweet music to his ears, he got overconfident. “Only if we’re still engaged.”

  She huffed and shook her head, letting him know he’d gone too far, then started to sit up and get off the bed.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” he said, taking her wrist. “We’ll leave that topic aside for now.”

  Then he held her like he might lose her if he let go, while delivering rough kisses down her neck. His hands roamed her body, pulling her hips tight to his lap. As much as she wanted him tonight, and while feeling closer to her than he had since her mother died, he also suspected that after Brynne had met her double, he’d get put on the back burner again. While all he wanted was to bring her into his family as his wife, now she might be drawn into a potential family of her own. Wouldn’t need him anymore. Soon he was as desperate for validation from her as she’d been with him before.

  He pushed into her, completely aware of how much she needed him right now, and soon got lost in her welcoming warmth. But one last thought occurred. She’d called his bluff and broken their engagement. He’d have to eat crow, take back that demand, because he could never give her up.

  The next morning, after their busy night of running from reality with sex, her cell went off before seven. She left his arms, crossing the room to retrieve it. He immediately missed her warmth and comfort.

  Paul watched her, sleek and naked, wavy red hair halfway down her back, hips round and legs thin, pacing back and forth in conversation. Thoughts occurred. First there was her nursing career, then her mother’s death and having to switch gears to become a small-business woman, and now a whole new chapter had opened with one, if not two, long-lost sisters?

  He loved Brynne, no matter what twists and turns her life would take him through, he wanted to be by her side. Preferably married, but...

  Yeah. That was it. First, chuck the ultimatum. Then, get engaged again. After that he’d move ahead with the big surprise.

  Chapter Three

  After Brynne ended the call, Paul tugged her, with little resistance, into the shower with him. “Who was on the phone?” He pulled her close under the large, square rain head, still wanting to touch her everywhere. Being under warm running water intensified his need to keep her near.

  “Lacy. She wants me to come by the hospital so we can talk.”

  “I’ll go with you.” They hadn’t had a night like last night in a long time. Not since her mother had died. Her demanding his attention solidified how much he loved her. It made him more confident than ever that she loved him, too.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve gotta see this woman who looks exactly like you.”

  “We’re not engaged anymore.”

  “Okay, I get it. You’re punishing me for giving you an ultimatum. Okay, I remove it. There. Satisfied?”

  “We’re still not engaged.”

  He pointed toward the bedroom, through the tiled shower wall. “What do you call all that went on last night?”

  “Sex.”

  “You mean you used me?”

  “You see it your way, I’ll see it mine.”

  He took her by the shoulders, slippery with soap. “What’s going on?”

  She slumped into his arms. “My life is spinning out of control. I need to take a breather.”

  “From me?”

  She nodded.

  He stepped out of the shower, reached for a towel and began drying off. “Well, I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

  She shook her head, the water running over her hair and face. “Wouldn’t it be weird if you didn’t think so?”

  “You mean, like having a double was all your imagination?” He dried his pits. “Even though her husband and stepdaughter agreed?”

  “I know, and so did Rory.” She turned to let the water hit her back, watching him through the glass. “Crazy thoughts. I’m still in denial, having a hard time grasping it.”

  “I can understand why.” She’d just been vulnerable and shared her thoughts, which was unusual for Brynne. If there was a way to support her, he wanted to. “Hey, since it’s Sunday, and visiting hours don’t start until noon, let’s go out for breakfast.” Maybe if he pretended things between them were the same as always, they would be.

  “You didn’t hear me, did you?” Her unhappy expression drove the point home; she wanted to do this on her own. It also proved she meant what she’d said yesterday.

  They weren’t engaged anymore, and it was his fault. He’d royally screwed up. What if he tried making light of their situation?

  He wrapped the towel around his waist then leaned both hands on the shower door. “Then I’m not letting you out of the shower until you take me back.”

  With her knowing him, that he could never be a bully even if he tried, his move didn’t faze her. He could’ve predicted that. She gave a deliberate head shake, as if he was dense, and worse yet, immature. “Sorry, but we’re not engaged anymore, and I think for now that’s a good thing.”

  “So you really meant what you said about just sex? You didn’t secretly need my support and comfort?” Which he was hoping meant she wanted to be closer again, the way they’d been when they were planning their wedding.

  She nodded, brazen.

  Disappointed, he dropped his hands and strode to his bedroom, roughly opening a drawer, pulling out his briefs and slamming it shut. Yeah, he was being immature, but damn it, the woman he loved had once been his to marry, then their dreams began to unravel. Little by little he’d lost Brynne, and all he wanted was to get her back. She appeared behind him, wrapped in a towel, dripping on the carpet. “Look,” he said, preempting her from talking first, stepping into his underwear. “If you’re serious, then just go.”

  She stared at him, long and thoughtfully. What he’d give to know what was going on.

  “I need to find out who these people are right now. I can’t handle anything else.”

  Which meant he was supposed to be his usual understanding self and just take it. Okay, Brynne, whatever you say—just yank my chain and I’ll follow. But by his calculations, he was supposed to be married for six months by now. Unfortunately, he was running low on patience. “Can’t handle anything else as in the status of our relationship?” His knuck
les found his hips, his stance wide.

  She didn’t wither but stood up to him, naked beneath the towel, looking beautiful. “For right now. Yes.”

  “So you broke up with me, then came over here making it crystal clear that you needed me. All night, I might add, and now it’s time to drop me, and I’m supposed to be A-OK with that?”

  She shook her head in an obvious you-don’t-understand-anything way. Was she seriously thinking he was the one being difficult? “I’ve got to go.”

  “Well, you better get dressed first,” he said, unable to hide his bitter tone. He turned his back to hunt for a shirt. So he’d do what he always did for Brynne, because he loved her. He’d go the extra mile. “And I’m still coming, engaged or not, because you need some backup, and you don’t seem to understand that.” He yanked open another drawer, retrieved a folded tee, then pushed extra hard to close it.

  Retreating to the bathroom, she slammed the door and matched his tone saying, “Fine.”

  * * *

  Later, when Paul walked into the hospital room, his step faltered at the sight. “Wow.” He sent a quick glance to Brynne. “You’ve got to be twins.”

  “Lacy, this is Paul Capriati. Paul, this is Lacy Gardner.”

  The duplicate of Brynne sat on top of her hospital bed covers in the requisite drab gown with—also hospital-issued—purple no-skid slipper socks. She held a bundle of baby wrapped like a burrito, the only thing showing being a round golden-skinned face with stick-straight copper hair that Lacy had already formed into a faux-hawk. The newborn slept blissfully, his eyelids twitching from the sound of new voices.

  Paul had used the hand sanitizer strategically placed by the room entrance and moved to shake her hand, half expecting her to be a hologram.

  “I know, crazy, right?” Lacy said, obviously reading his mind, her voice sounding so familiar.

  Brynne took a close-up look at the sleeping baby. “Christopher is so beautiful.”

  First, Lacy dipped her head with thanks. “Zack told you that, right?” Then she cast a suspicious glance at Brynne, an expression Paul had seen hundreds of times, but on Brynne’s face.

  Brynne nodded, easily giving up her source.

  “I told him I want this little guy to be named John, after my dad. He’s the one with red hair.”

  Brynne laughed lightly, obviously not wanting to get involved in the name battle. When Lacy joined in, they sounded identical. The sight of the two of them side by side also knocked some air out of Paul’s lungs.

  “Maybe you should both sit down.” Lacy had clearly noticed his reaction, and he automatically followed her suggestion.

  “Where’s Zack?” Brynne asked.

  “He would’ve stayed overnight in the room with me, but the hospital doesn’t allow kids for that, so he and Emma bunked down at a nearby Best Western.”

  “I thought you were here visiting family?”

  “We were, but they live in St. George. I talked Zack into bringing me to Cedars in the City, based on a bit of information my brother-in-law uncovered about our adoption.”

  “Interesting. If you hadn’t come here, we never would’ve met.”

  “I know.” Lacy took a breath, letting the realization sink in. “Anyway, they slept in, and now he’s treating her to a special brunch.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Or maybe I should say lunch, but they should get here soon enough. And this way you and I can get to know each other a little.”

  Boy, one thing was different about Lacy from Brynne—well, two things. Ask her a question and get a detailed answer, and even though she was holding a baby, it was obvious she liked to use her hands when she talked. Conversation with Brynne often felt like prying open a locked box, and in general, she was a calm talker. Lacy was more like his family—lots of hands and words. Paul helped Brynne find a chair and sit, since she seemed to be slipping back into dumbstruck mode, then sat next to her for support.

  “First of all, my twin sister, Eva, is flying in as we speak, so you can meet her, too.”

  Brynne’s hand flew to her forehead. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

  “If I wasn’t so distracted by giving birth yesterday, and now with this little guy—” she grinned down at her baby “—I might feel the same way. Also, after finding my twin, Eva, I’m not nearly as shocked the second time around. Though three is really pushing it.” She nearly knocked the water pitcher over on the bedside table with her wide gesture. Paul leaned in to help, but clearly well practiced with hand gestures gone awry, Lacy righted it before it spilled. “I mean, it’s still crazy, the situation and all, but whether twins or triplets, or some huge cosmic joke, I’m just happy to have found you.” She was a kick to watch talk.

  “You honestly think we’re related? I’ve lived here all my life. And you’re from?”

  “California. I was born and raised in Little River Valley, and Eva, or Evangeline, as her adoption birth certificate says, was raised in Los Angeles.” Lacy snapped her fingers, as though beginning to spin a tale of great wonder. “Okay. So, my father and mother couldn’t have kids, and they hired a surrogate since my mother was nearing menopause. Like I mentioned, my dad has the red hair, and he donated the sperm.” She looked down at the baby. “And that’s why we’re naming you John, not Christopher, huh sweetie.”

  “Your parents never told you about the surrogate?” Paul said, curious about every part of this story.

  “Never. He died almost two years ago, and I stumbled onto the paperwork in our attic. I’d never been told I was even adopted.”

  “But he was your father,” Brynne added, looking confused.

  “Yes, he was our father, I’m willing to bet on it. Anyway, my mother adopted me after I was born. That’s part of the surrogate process when it isn’t your eggs.”

  Brynne nodded, taking it all in. Paul took her hand and held it, and letting him, she glanced gratefully at him, adding a light squeeze.

  See, she did need him here.

  “The only reason I was looking for paperwork was because one of my customers at a wedding insisted that I was someone else. Eva, she’d said. Oh, I should tell you I own and operate a food truck, and that’s the big trend for weddings these day in Southern California, so that’s how that came about.”

  Paul could tell by the amused smile that piece of information tickled Brynne. She also happened to be a big fan of eating from food trucks, especially the grilled-cheese truck that parked at the university every Friday. A food truck. Huh.

  “It was Dad’s. The food truck. I had it revamped after he passed away. That’s also how I met Zack—I set up at one of his construction sites. The truck is definitely good luck.”

  Now Brynne smiled full out. Paul could tell she liked this woman, sister or not. Then it occurred to him. “Can triplets be identical?”

  That snapped Brynne out of her daze—she obviously gave the idea consideration for a second, as though this aspect of the crazy situation had yet to occur to her. “It’s extremely rare, like a million to one, but the fertilized egg has to split twice to get identical triplets. Usually it splits once and the third baby has its own fertilized egg, so they aren’t completely identical.”

  “Well, our egg must have done that. Whatever you just said. Split twice? Here,” Lacy said, after picking up her phone from the bedside table and using her thumb to scroll through some pages, Christopher or John still snug in the other arm. “Let me show you a picture of me and Eva.” Finding one, which brought a smile to her face, Lacy turned the phone for Brynne and Paul to see.

  The wedding picture shot through him like a bolt of electricity. “Uncanny” was all he could manage to say. Still holding Brynne’s hand, though tighter now, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

  “You guys had a double wedding?” Brynne sounded envious, which was encouraging, and Paul wondered how soon before she’d be lament
ing never knowing about family all these years.

  “Yes!” Lacy’s eyes lit up. “Notice we were wearing the same dress?”

  “I did. Different veils, though.”

  “We didn’t pick out that dress together. We each chose it ourselves.” There went the free hand again, palm up, stirring the air.

  “That’s crazy.”

  “I know.” Lacy’s expression turned impish. “We played a dirty trick on Zack and Joe, too. When we have more time, I’ll tell you all about that, too.”

  Which made Paul wonder exactly how much time Brynne would have with Lacy and Eva—a day? A week? And then what?

  “Well, if I’m not some freak of nature, but actually your sister, we definitely all came from the same egg!”

  “Which brings me to ask if you’ve ever had a DNA test? That was the first thing Eva and I did when we found each other. As expected, we share the same DNA. You should have a test done, right away.”

  “I will.”

  “Are Eva’s parents alive?” Paul tried his hardest to put this crazy situation into perspective. “Did they give any background on your birth?”

  “Eva was adopted by a single mom, and believe me, we’ve grilled Bridget as much as she’ll let us.”

  “And your parents didn’t want both babies?”

  Lacy shook her head remorsefully, offering the first glimpse of the emotional cost of splitting up siblings. “Evidently, they couldn’t afford two children, so when they found out the surrogate was carrying twins, they didn’t know what to do. But the surrogate found another person who wanted to adopt, Eva’s mom, so she made twice as much money, or maybe more. Bridget refuses to discuss particulars and insists the adoption was closed and her knowledge was limited.”

  “That’s as far as you got?” Paul couldn’t help his curiosity, being a historian, and Brynne being the woman he loved more than anyone, who had probably just found out she was a triplet at the age of thirty-two.