The Twin Birthright. Catherine Mann
out.
And yes, he’d also chosen to stick around because the glow on her face mesmerized him. The soft, soothing sound of her voice as she spoke to her babies surpassed any song.
Finally, when Naomi couldn’t keep her head up any longer, a nurse had gently reminded her she would be no good to her children exhausted. She should rest while she could.
Royce had helped her back to her room and watched over her while she slept. The babies were in good hands. Someone needed to look out for Naomi. The best thing would be to walk away, but damn it all, he kept buying in to lame reasons to stick around.
He sure as hell wouldn’t be able to hold off her family for long. They would all be back here en masse soon enough. For now, before the sun rose, he could imagine things were different between them.
Her feet shifted under the sheet in that way he’d learned she did just before the rest of her awoke. Back in the days when they’d shared a bed, when he’d made love to her through the night. When he’d had the right to slide his arm around her and draw her to him. To bury his face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her shampoo.
Naomi stretched her arms overhead, then swept back her hair before gingerly sitting up in bed. “The girls?”
“Anna and Mary are fine. The nurse said they would be brought in after the shift change, which should be happening right now.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Catnaps. I’m fine.” He set his tablet aside and poured her a cup of ice water.
“Thank you.” She took it and sipped. “Catnap, huh? I bet you worked.”
He didn’t bother denying it. The chart he’d been calculating still glowed on the screen.
“Royce, you should rest.”
He could sleep later. She would be taking care of twins. “I will. How do you feel?”
“Like I gave birth to twins in a car.”
“I’ll get the nurse to bring your pain meds.” He started to stand.
“I was joking.” She gestured for him to sit again.
“Right. Guess my brain’s still on stun from everything that’s happened.”
“Understandable.” She picked at the sheets, glancing at him, then away, blinking fast. “I’m sorry if this brought back upsetting memories for you.”
Yes, the delivery had brought back the past, thoughts that would haunt his sleep. But he didn’t intend to worry her with that.
“My thoughts are fully on you and the babies. What about you?” He touched her hand, paused, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist out of habit. “Is everything else, um, okay?”
“Are you referencing hormones?” She skimmed a knuckle under each eye. “Because that could be seriously dangerous to your health.”
He froze, then relaxed. “You were making a joke, right?”
“Teasing you.” She squinted, sizing him up with a playful grin. “Not a joke exactly.”
“Got it.” He tapped his temple, missing this ease between them, not knowing how to keep it beyond sunrise. “I’m working on developing a sense of humor.”
“You’ve always had one. You’re just more literal when you’re stressed.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
The pain in her words cut him to the quick. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
“And yes, to answer your question, I’m thinking about my mom and my sister.” She shrugged, the green hospital gown sliding down one shoulder. “I wish they were here to see the girls, to offer advice. Just to hug.”
He covered her hand with his, stroking lightly.
Ah, there it was. An old familiar spark. The feeling of an electric current running between them, gaining voltage as her eyes caught his.
Memories catapulted through his mind, threatening to tear down the wall between them.
But the moment was short-lived, interrupted by a squeaky hospital door. Back to the present. To the babies being lifted out of the bassinets and into the arms of the nurse.
A cooing noise erupted from the pink lips of one of the girls as the nurse carefully cradled the tiny pink bundle.
“Are you ready, Momma?” the woman asked brightly, her ponytail swinging as she moved closer.
Naomi’s heart was in her eyes as she looked at the nurse and nodded emphatically, her dark hair tumbling forward.
Damn.
Naomi practically glowed with maternal love and happiness. The sight of her reaching for her babies, cradling one and then the other to her chest, nearly knocked him to his knees.
“Are you sure you have them?” the nurse inquired, propping pillows under Naomi’s arms to give her support.
Two babies, even at this young age, were a lot to juggle. Royce hovered. Wanting to help.
Needing to help.
“I’ll make sure,” he answered the nurse, easing past her to give Naomi a hand.
Seeing for himself how much she needed help meant only one thing. He had to be there for her these next six weeks as she recovered and settled into motherhood, or he would never be free of regrets.
* * *
Naomi wrapped baby Anna in her blanket, swaddling her the way the nurses had taught. Mary already slept, her sweet Cupid’s bow mouth moving silently as she dreamed. So far nursing the twins was going well. At least that’s what the staff said. Naomi found it more difficult than she’d expected, but she was determined to try.
It had taken all her skills as a lawyer to convince Royce to step out of the room long enough to visit the cafeteria. She’d convinced him she had to have a burger.
She carefully adjusted the pink cap on Anna and the purple cap on Mary before relaxing in the recliner by her bed. Sitting in a real chair made her feel more like a regular person after all the weeks on bed rest before she gave birth. And after the ordeal of doing so in the SUV. Usually, Naomi thrived on drama and high emotions. But was it too much to ask to have a second of peace without all these feelings crowding her? She’d given birth in a freaking car. She deserved—her babies deserved—a few minutes of calm.
The reactions stirred by Royce were anything but peaceful.
She knew the two of them were over. They had to be. They weren’t good for each other. It had just been infatuation. But he still sent her hormones into a tailspin whenever he walked in the room.
And when he walked out. Even to go get supper.
What would it feel like when he left forever?
As the lump in her throat swelled to an almost unmanageable size—so much for peace—the door cracked open.
Again, anticipation hummed in her veins, made her heart race—hope—to see the eccentric scientist appear.
And yes, there was a man in the entry. But it wasn’t Royce.
Her rugged father, an unwavering—albeit gruff—teddy bear of support through the years. He carried a vase of pink roses.
“Daddy? I can’t believe you’re here.” She pushed on the arms of the recliner to stand.
With a hand on her shoulder, he gently eased her back, then wedged the painted ceramic vase on the counter between a spider plant and a pair of rag dolls. “Of course I’m here to see my girl and her babies. Jeannie’s here, too. She’s just outside the door with the family. She said I should have some time alone with you first. She’s thoughtful that way. Always trying to be considerate when