The Twin Birthright. Catherine Mann
if help didn’t arrive soon. “As much as it seems we have these somewhat similar crazy turns in our lives, a lot is different.”
She chuckled hoarsely. “Like the fact that there’s not a chance we’ll be having sex this time.”
He tapped his temple. “I’m intuitive that way.”
Except he hadn’t been so intuitive at the start. He’d fallen for the deception that brought her into his life. She’d hidden her identity as a Steele, hoping to get an inside scoop on his research, and ultimately lure him into signing on with her family business. He’d seen only her, wanted her, was determined to have her. And he’d ignored all the warning signs. In fact, he could see now how they’d both used sex to avoid talking about the deeper issues that would later tear them apart.
Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “Thank you, so much. You were amazing and calm. I can’t believe everything went okay. They’re healthy and alive and I’m still here.”
“Yes, you are.” He swallowed hard.
“They’re beautiful.” Her voice rang with awe and love.
“That they are.” Like their mama. “Have you settled on names yet?”
“Mary for my mother...” She pressed a kiss to the forehead of her firstborn, still wrapped in his jacket. “And I was thinking Breanna and call her Anna—” she kissed the clenched fist of her baby wrapped in her pink parka “—in honor of my sister.”
Both of whom had died in a plane crash.
He knew well what a mark her sister and mother’s deaths had left on her ability to believe happiness could last. Her teenage bout with cancer had piled onto that doubt, chipping away at what remained of her capacity for trust in happy endings.
“That’s a lovely tribute. What about middle names?”
“Mary Jaqueline, after both of my parents, Mary and Jack. And I hope you won’t mind if I name the other Breanna Royce.” Naomi’s eyes filled with emotion and a sheen of regret. “You’ve been here for me, but I understand if—”
“That’s perfect. Thank you. I’m honored.” Emotion, too much, threatened to steal his focus. He sealed it off and looked for tangible, logical facts. “I would guess they each weigh nearly six pounds. That’s remarkable for twins a month early.”
She studied him for an intense moment before blinking and glancing away. “No wonder I looked as big as a house.”
“You were—and are—beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s nice not to be arguing with a woman who just gave birth in a car.”
“I don’t fight.”
“True.” She crinkled her nose, shadows chasing across her face. “But you seethe, holding it in either out of some reclusive habit, or fear of spiking the blood pressure of the pregnant woman.” She touched his arm lightly, her nails short and painted a pale pink. “I mean that nicely. You’ve been kind when you had every right to hate me.”
Her words stabbed him clean through. “I could never hate you.”
“We’re just wrong for each other.”
He couldn’t deny that, as much as it hurt to admit. Things had moved so fast with them. And then they were done.
“Life’s complicated.” He studied each baby’s face, their features imprinting themselves in his mind. In his heart. “But right now, it feels blessedly simple.”
Or at least he wanted it to be. Here in the dimly lit car, the whistle of the wind cutting through the Alaska night. A dream he’d entertained more than once in the past. Before. A whimsical thought that wasn’t like him.
She’d insisted he was trying to replace the fiancée who’d walked out on him after miscarrying their child years ago. That he’d been trying to replace that baby, as well. He couldn’t deny those losses had hurt like hell. But the breakup with Naomi had been exponentially worse.
Maybe she was right about his need to fill a hole in his life that had never healed after the baby he’d lost. But all he’d known after breaking up with Naomi was that no matter what had happened between them, he needed to usher the twins into the world before he could walk away.
Light sparked behind his eyes. Becoming stronger and stronger until he couldn’t blink it away. He frowned, sitting up, looking outside.
Car lights approached, twin beams streaking ahead, an emergency light strobing. Help had arrived. Thank God. Yet with that help came another realization.
As much as he’d thought he could cut ties once the babies were born, he still couldn’t walk away. Not tonight.
Naomi shivered under the blankets in the ambulance as she stretched out on the gurney. She had no reason to be cold. The heater was blasting and the emergency technicians had piled blankets on top of her.
Supposedly it was the aftermath of childbirth making her teeth clatter together. That and relief. Her two little girls—Mary and Anna—had been checked over thoroughly and both declared healthy miracles.
Twins, born in a car, in a snowstorm.
Amazing.
Both her babies were bundled up and being secured by the younger of the two techs in preparation for the ride to the hospital. A pediatrician would be waiting for them there.
Her teeth chattered faster and she searched beyond the open back door for Royce. He stood a few feet away, under a spotlight the techs had placed outside. The halogen beam shone down on his hair, made all the darker by the dampness from a fresh sprinkle of snowflakes collecting and melting. She heard the low, confident rumble of his voice. The tones grounded her with reassurance far more than the blankets. Holding strong to keep him at a distance proved hard right now, with her emotions so close to the surface.
“Thank you,” he said to the older of the two techs. “I appreciate your coming out on roads as messy as these.”
“That’s what we’re here for.” The medic tugged his knit cap more firmly over his head, wind whipping flurries sideways.
“And they’re all really okay.” Royce’s broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh so heavy she couldn’t miss it.
“Mom’s blood pressure is a little higher than we would like, but we’re monitoring her and we’ll be on the road shortly.” He nodded. “You handled everything very well, especially considering the circumstances. The babies both have a ten Apgar score.”
“That’s good to know. When they were born, they both had blue hands, but they came out crying, actively kicking.”
“That’s excellent. You did a great job in a tough situation. There’s really nothing more anyone could have done in those circumstances.”
Royce scrubbed the back of his neck, a gesture she recognized as weariness. “Other than not go for an impromptu scenic ride with a pregnant woman.”
“You can beat yourself up later, Dad.” The older man clapped Royce on the shoulder.
Dad? Naomi’s throat closed and she bit her lip against a tremble.
Royce shrugged. “I’m not...their dad.”
The pain in his voice tore at her heart. For him, for herself and for her children. She and Royce had made such plans for the future. He was a good man who would have loved her children as much as if they were his own. If only she could have escaped the feeling he was filling a void left by the loss of his own child.
By the loss of his fiancée, a woman he’d known so much longer than his and Naomi’s few, intense months together.
Turning,