His-And-Hers Twins (4 page)

He knew what to do with a sick animal, could perform surgery on a traumatized cat or dog, but would he know what was best for his children?

They needed a mother. And as much as he hated the dating game, he should make himself look for someone suitable. Paige's image quickly surfaced, but he blotted
it away like an unwanted ink stain, then flipped the channel again and groaned as
The Brady Bunch
piped onto the TV. Now, that was exactly the kind of woman he needed. A stay-at-home mom, cook, housekeeper.

But his body curled in distaste. Not very modern thinking. Aggravated with himself, he stood, ready to take Henrietta for a walk and settle down for the night. Henrietta was nowhere in sight.

He noticed his front door swinging open and glanced outside to see a shadow that looked like Henrietta trotting toward Paige's. He groaned, hoping Henrietta hadn't gone in search of more brownies. He certainly didn't want to interrupt Paige, especially if loverboy was still there drooling all over her like a lovesick St. Bernard.

 

“H
ENRIETTA, WHAT ARE
you doing here?” Paige watched in surprise as the bulky dog wiggled through her pet door and sniffed the kitchen floor. Henrietta turned up her nose and her eyelids drooped in a pitiful begging expression. “Sorry, I don't have any brownies tonight,” Paige said sympathetically. She studied the pet door, wondering if she should board it up against the vandals. But the door was so small, only a child could crawl through.

The dog whimpered and Paige stepped from her stool and walked awkwardly toward her, clutching the black satin around her body. After the neighbors had left, she'd decided to experiment with a new design. She barely had the fabric pinned above her shoulder.

Henrietta sprawled on her floor, looking woeful. Feeling sorry for her, Paige unwrapped a leftover biscuit from her counter and handed it to her. The mutt accepted it happily, thumping the floor with her short, stubby tail.

“Come on, Henrietta. I bet the girls are looking for
you.” Paige opened the back door and almost bumped into Zeke.

“She's here,” Page said. “I guess she came looking for more brownies,” Paige said.

Zeke reprimanded the dog. Too late, Paige remembered she was wearing nothing but her panties and the scrap of black silk wrapped turban style around her body. Zeke's gaze flashed with heat as he skimmed her attire. Paige felt exposed, as if the silk were as transparent as cellophane. Her nipples beaded beneath the skimpy fabric and desire curled low in her belly. He had to know she was naked under the fabric. A slow smile spread on Zeke's face, revealing that killer dimple in his left cheek. She was a goner.

Paige backed away, panic bubbling inside. Warning bells chimed in her head like a police siren, screeching for her to run—to avoid impending danger.

“Nice outfit,” Zeke said with a broad grin.

Paige ignored the flutter in her stomach. “It's a project for my clothing class.”

“Hmm.” Zeke folded one arm across his middle and grinned wickedly as his gaze rested on her bare shoulder. “I think you should get an A plus. Maybe even extra credit.”

Paige shivered at the flash of hunger in his eyes, then swept her hands down the sides of the satin. A mistake. The slippery material drooped off her other shoulder, making her feel bare. “It's not finished yet,” she said taking another step back inside her house.

Henrietta must have realized she was being ignored because she suddenly lunged against Paige's knees, begging for another biscuit.

“No, Henrietta,” Zeke ordered.

Paige shrieked, pushing at the animal. But Henrietta's
paws caught the fabric and became embedded. Zeke yanked at the dog, but Henrietta snatched the silk between her teeth and jerked it so hard the material ripped, then dropped completely to the ground. Paige shrieked again and Henrietta took off running with the fabric clenched in her mouth as if she'd found a fresh ham bone. Paige brought her hands up to cover herself.

“Henrietta, come back here!” Zeke glanced at Paige and hesitated. She bit down on her bottom lip as he zeroed in on her skimpy black bikini panties and bare breasts. Then he swallowed visibly, sweat beading on his lip. If Paige hadn't been so utterly mortified, she would have admired the gallant way he brought his face up to hers. “I'll get her.”

“I'll be inside,” Paige said in a voice that squeaked out. Then she ran in her house to safety, her face burning.

 

Z
EKE'S HEART
pounded as he chased Henrietta across the yard. Not only had his children humiliated him, now his damn dog had embarrassed him.

Of course, Paige looked pretty embarrassed herself.

He'd known from her running attire she had a nice figure, but her firm, high breasts had taken his breath away, and her muscular thighs and slim legs stretched out from those bikini panties like a man's dream. Exhausted or not, after seeing Paige half-naked, he'd never be able to sleep tonight.

“Henrietta, give me the fabric!” he ordered.

Henrietta growled, darted into the backyard and dragged it into her doghouse.

He knelt on his hands and knees and crawled toward the entrance of the doghouse. “Here, Henrietta. Here, doggie. Give me the fabric.”

Henrietta growled again. The dog acted as though the
material was a security blanket, like the ones his daughters slept with. A brainstorm hit him and he ran inside, grabbed an old blanket and hurried back. Dropping to his knees again, he stuffed the blanket inside. “Here, nice warm, cozy blanket for Henrietta. Give me the other one.”

After several long minutes of coaxing, he finally exchanged the material for the blanket and examined it. It was wet with dog slobber, dirty and grass stained—what was he going to tell Paige?

Before he faced her, he rushed in to check on the girls. Thankfully they were both snuggled in their beds sound asleep. He practiced an apology as he walked back to Paige's house, trying desperately not to think about how sexy and enticing she looked wearing nothing except black lace, with her auburn hair feathered around her bare shoulders, her dusky nipples pouting for attention.

When he reached her porch, he exhaled a shaky breath. As if she'd been standing with her hand on the doorknob, she opened the door, but only wide enough for him to see her blushing face and the big, green furry housecoat she'd pulled to her chin. He almost laughed, but the memory of her bare breasts remained imprinted in his brain and arousal strummed through his body, throwing him completely off center.

“I'm afraid Henrietta ruined the material,” he said sheepishly. “I'll replace it if you'll tell me where to find the fabric, or I can write you a check to cover the costs.”

Paige narrowed her eyes in disappointment. “No, I don't want money. Besides, the project's due tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” He jammed his hands in his pockets, realizing the stores were probably closed. “Well, um, you want me to wash it for you?”

Paige shook her head. “No, this fabric isn't washable.”

“Paige, I'm sorry. At least let me take it to the cleaners?”

She patted his hand in a sympathetic gesture. Her fingers were soft and warm and he fought the urge to wrap her dainty hand in his. “Don't worry, Zeke. I have some extra fabric. I'll make a short dress instead of a long one.”

Zeke read the uncertainty in her expression as she studied the stained material, but admired her easygoing nature. She should be furious with him.

He felt even more guilty. “Well, I guess I should go then.”

“I guess.”

“Good luck with the project.”

“Thanks.”

He stared into her eyes, a picture of her naked flashing through his head like an erotic magazine photo. “Are you sure there's nothing else I can do?”
Maybe help pin the material around you, then take it off and touch you all over?

“I'm sure,” Paige said softly. “Go on back to the girls.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”
The girls.
Geez, he'd almost forgotten. What kind of father was he?

“Well, I'll see you.”

“Yeah, see you.”

“Good night, Paige.”

“Good night.”

Zeke slowly walked back to his house, his thoughts jumbled. He liked Paige, and he was undeniably attracted to her. But he had to focus on raising his daughters.

Back inside, he yanked off his clothes, took a quick
shower and collapsed into bed. It had been an exhausting day. As he closed his eyes, images of Paige's flushed skin, her rosy lips, her high cheekbones and dainty nose, her glorious auburn hair, her curvy, sexy legs taunted him. He missed having a woman's body snuggled up next to his, his legs tangled with her silky, smooth skin, her soft breath whispering against his face.

Problem was, he didn't just want any woman. He wanted Paige Watkins.

Reality shattered his dreams when he rolled over to the empty space beside him and felt the crisp cool sheets. He couldn't have Paige. And if he pursued her, he'd be on a collision course with trouble.

So once again, he went to sleep. Alone.

 

P
AIGE SHOVED THE
embarrassing memory of Zeke seeing her practically naked from her mind and tried to salvage her project. Unfortunately, Zeke's heated gaze and sexy smile popped into her head at the most inopportune times. She'd stuck herself about twenty times with a pin and had almost sewn her finger on the sewing machine. Finally, around 3 a.m., she finished the dress and sat back to admire her work. She'd fashioned a tea-length semi-formal dress that dipped off one shoulder. The tapered skirt accentuated a woman's normal curves while drawing attention to her best features. Around 4 a.m., she stumbled into bed and closed her eyes.

Zeke's unbidden image drifted through her dreams but this time, Zeke was undressing her. And this time, she blushed from excitement and passion. Then she undressed him, savoring every delightful moment as his bronze skin and rippled muscles were unveiled.

At 5 a.m., Paige woke up from her dream with the sheets tangled around her, her head throbbing from lack
of sleep. Shocked at her lustful thoughts she leapt out of bed, threw on her jogging clothes and ran out the door.

Forty-five minutes later, she returned to the house, her energy renewed. The neighborhood had been filled with early morning walkers and runners and the fresh air had cleansed her senses. She showered, planning to have breakfast and study her marketing before she headed to her 9 a.m. class. But when she stepped into her kitchen, there sat the troublemaker—Henrietta.

 

“C
OME ON, GIRLS
, we need to leave.” Zeke buttoned his white shirt, tucking it inside his pleated navy trousers.

“But I can't find my shoes,” August said.

“Try your feet.” Zeke pointed to her bright yellow sneakers.

“Not these.” August rolled her eyes. “They don't match my blue dress.”

“I see.” Actually, he didn't. Being color-blind definitely had its limitations.

“Here they are!” Summer held up another pair of shoes.

“Bailey's bringing his grandma, too,” August said. “'Cause his mom is a 'portant psych…head doctor.”

Zeke clamped his mouth together to prevent a chuckle, grateful at least one other child had a substitute mom for the tea. The telephone jangled and Summer and August raced to it, fighting over who would answer. After a few seconds of wrestling, they finally compromised and held it between them. But their faces instantly crumpled before him.

“Grammy can't come to the tea!” August wailed.

“She's throwed up her waffles.” Summer's lower lip trembled, then she promptly burst into tears.

His heart jumped into his throat as he grabbed the phone. “Hello, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Listen, Zeke, I'm so sorry, but I have the flu.” His mother's voice sounded weak. “It's one of those twenty-four-hour bugs, but I don't want to expose the girls.”

“Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry you're ill.” Zeke rubbed his temple, trying to talk over the sound of Summer's wailing. “Sure, Mom, I understand. I hope you feel better.”

“Tell the girls I'll make it up to them. They can spend next weekend with me.”

Sympathy for his mother softened his voice. “It's okay. These things happen. The girls understand.” He grimaced, hoping he sounded halfway convincing. He had a feeling his mother could hear Summer bellowing and August kicking her feet against the steps. He expected August to start throwing things any minute.

“You know I'll be glad to keep the twins if you want to go out sometime, son. There's a couple of attractive single women in my church, women who like to stay home—”

“I'm not interested, Mom.”

“You're not still pining for that awful woman, Renee, are you?”

“No.” Zeke gritted his teeth. “I don't care if I ever see her again.”

“Good. I told you she wasn't right for you. But I'll help you find someone—”

“Mother, I don't need you to help me—” he paused to rein in his temper “—except with the girls occasionally. Now get some rest. I'll call you in a day or two.” He hung up the phone, uncertain how to handle his daughters' disappointment.

“I'm not going to school!” August yanked off her
shoes and tossed them into the corner. The shoes banged against the wall and bounced off with a loud thud.

“Me neither.” Summer poked out her bottom lip.

“Girls, listen,” Zeke said, feeling forlorn himself. “Grandma can't help getting sick. I know you're disappointed—”

“You don't know anything!” August yelled. “You don't have to go to school without a mommy, not even a subst…a pretend one!”

Zeke sank into the chair beside the phone and dropped his head, despair momentarily filling him. Maybe he didn't know anything. He kept telling himself he was doing the best he could.
But what if it's not enough?