To Have And To Hold: Made for Marriage / To Wed a Rancher / The Mummy Proposal. Helen Lacey
to the spot, absorbed by the way he looked in worn jeans and a soft white T-shirt. His feet were bare and it seemed incredibly intimate somehow. His hair was damp, too, and she figured he’d just showered. Which made her think of soap and skin and water cascading over strong muscles. Before Callie could say anything the twins scrambled into the room on fast little feet and planted themselves in front of her.
The little girl touched the hem of her dress. “Callie’s here!” she announced excitedly. “You look really pretty. Daddy won’t let me wear nail polish.”
Callie smiled, amused despite the fierce pounding of her heart. “I wasn’t allowed to wear it either until I was …” She paused, looked at Noah and took a gamble. “Sixteen.”
Noah smiled. “Good answer.” He dropped off the step and took a few paces toward her, his eyes not leaving hers. “You do look lovely.”
Eaten up with nerves, she almost told him that he looked lovely, too. But didn’t. Because lovely wasn’t the word. He looked … hot. And so incredibly sexy in his jeans and bare feet that she had to swallow a few times to regain her composure.
“Okay, guys—give Callie some room to breathe.” He moved forward and took Matthew’s hand. “I have to get these two in the bathtub. I won’t be long. Make yourself at home.”
“Where’s Lily tonight?”
“At a sleepover at Maddy’s,” he replied as the trio padded off down the hall.
Callie relaxed fractionally. Until Jamie repeated his question about liking spiders. She had an awful thought he might have one in a jar for her to inspect. Within seconds he was off down the hallway. Callie dropped her tote by the sofa and moved toward the mantel. About a dozen framed photographs caught her attention. Most of them were of the children, and one was of three women. Callie recognized Evie and could see the resemblance in the striking woman beside her with dark hair and perfectly symmetrical features. The other woman, clearly younger, looked familiar, and Callie remembered M.J. from the Twilight Fair. An older couple, his parents for sure because she recognized his mother, filled another shot and then there was a picture of Noah with Cameron, both holding up a fish on a hook and both laughing in a way that only best friends could.
There were no pictures of his ex-wife and she wondered why she thought there might be. Perhaps she just wanted to get a look at the woman who had borne his children and the woman he had loved.
Callie looked at the picture of the twins again and a familiar ache filled her heart.
But she wouldn’t think about Ryan tonight … she wouldn’t make comparisons. And she wouldn’t envy Noah his beautiful, perfect children.
Jamie returned with a heavy book and patted a spot on the sofa. Callie sat down and spent ten minutes listening to him talk about and show pictures of the most hideous-looking arachnids she felt certain would give her nightmares for weeks. But he was a charming boy, polite and very smart and quite mature for his age.
Noah came back into the room without the twins. “They’re playing in their bedroom until dinner,” he said. He looked at Jamie and smiled. “Hey, mate, how about you go and join Hayley and Matthew?”
“But, Callie has—”
“Seen enough crawlies for one night. Off you go.”
Jamie disappeared without another protest and the air thickened between them almost instantly.
“I hope he didn’t freak you out too much.”
“A little.” she said, shuddering. “He’s a lovely child. You should be proud of him.”
“I am,” he replied. “Join me in the kitchen?”
Callie stood and followed him down a short hallway.
The Tasmanian oak kitchen impressed her as much as the rest of the house. She walked to the window and glanced outside. Beyond the patio there was a pool, a hot tub and a gloriously lush garden.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked and grabbed two bottles from a rack above the refrigerator. “Red or white?”
She chose the Merlot and watched as he pulled the cork and poured two glasses.
“Thanks.” She took the glass and leaned against the granite countertop. She sipped her wine. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. We’ve only been here a couple of years.” He drank some wine, then grabbed a pot and filled it with water. “I bought the place after my divorce.”
So his ex had never lived here? She was instantly curious. “Did you have a bitter breakup?”
Surprisingly, he answered. “I guess you could call it that.” He flicked on the gas.
Still curious, she asked another question. “Why doesn’t she see the children?”
He pulled out a few items and dumped them on the counter. “She lives in Paris with her elderly mother. When she’s not in rehab.”
Callie gasped.
“Prescription meds,” he explained. “Or at least that’s how it started for Margaret.”
She had a name. “Is that why she left?” Callie asked.
Noah stopped what he was doing and turned toward her. “She left because she didn’t want to be married to me anymore.”
He smiled then but without humor. “Hard to imagine, eh? The addiction started afterward.”
Callie allowed herself to hold his gaze.
She felt a strong surge of compassion and deep feeling. But before she could say anything he passed her a paring knife. “Can you make the salad?”
Callie took the knife. “I … I guess. But I should warn you, I’m not much of a cook.”
He laughed. “It’s salad, Callie—it doesn’t need cooking.”
“I could still mess it up,” she said, trying to push back the color tinting her cheeks.
“Watch and learn.”
They worked in silence for a while. Callie chopped and diced vegetables while Noah stirred the sauce simmering in a large saucepan and popped linguini into boiling water.
“That smells good,” she said and sipped her wine.
He replaced the lid on the same container. “I can’t take the credit, I’m afraid.”
She placed a hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Store-bought? I’m devastated.”
“Evie,” he corrected. “She often doubles up on portions when she has guests staying at the B and B. She takes pity on my single-father status. Actually, I’m pretty sure she thinks I feed the kids macaroni and cheese five nights a week.”
“And you don’t?”
“Only three nights. Gotta squeeze the frozen pizzas in, too.”
Callie chuckled. “Please tell me you’re not serious?”
Noah put up one hand in a Boy Scout salute. “I’m not serious. They eat vegetables—even those horrible slimy green ones.”
As if on cue, the children returned to the kitchen. Callie remained by the countertop, working on her salad but also watching as Jamie set the table, so serious in his task, his little tongue clicking in his mouth as he straightened cutlery and placed paper napkins beside each place setting. The twins hovered, one each side of her, stepping back and forth on small feet, as though wanting her attention.
She smiled and asked them about their daycare teachers, and Hayley immediately began to tell her everything about a usual day in the classroom. Callie listened, still chopping.
“Can I have some of that?” Hayley asked as Callie cut a carrot.
She nodded and gave them