His-And-Hers Twins (8 page)

If the thought of Paige not being home didn't do it first. He checked his watch.

“Is she home yet?” Summer whispered.

“No.” He winced, realizing he'd given himself away.

“Think she's all right, Daddy?” August asked.

“I'm sure she is. I'm just keeping an eye on her house because of that neighborhood watch thing I told you about.” He hoped his voice sounded sincere.

“Uh-huh.” August giggled as if she'd seen through his white lie.

“I didn't like that man with the 'vertible,” Summer piped in.

“He gots an awesome car,” August said. “But he looks like a girl.”

“And he gots beady eyes.”

“And he stinked, too.”

Zeke thumped his fingers on his watch. “Go to sleep, girls.”

“Night, Daddy,” both girls chimed.

“Night, sweethearts.” Zeke kissed them again, then turned off the flashlight just as headlights beamed in the driveway next door.

“That Paige?” Summer whispered.

“I don't know,” Zeke said in a soft voice. “And we shouldn't keep tabs on her.”

“Don't you like her, Daddy?” August asked.

Zeke glanced through the tent window to watch Paige climb out of the car. “Of course I like her. But she's only a friend.”

“Don't you think she's pretty?” Summer asked.

“Well, yeah, sure.”

“You wanna kiss her?” August said.

Summer made a hissing sound. “Oooh, kissin's yucky.”

“We're not going to talk about kissing. Now, good night, girls.” Zeke chuckled. He had no intention of opening up a can of worms by answering that question. Plus he wanted the girls quiet so he could hear what was happening next door. Straining to see without being too obvious, he arched forward and peeked through the bottom opening, unzipping the tent slightly for a better view.

To his surprise, Paige exited from the driver's side, went around and opened the car door for Dash. Then she leaned over, put her arm around him, and the guy draped his arm over her neck. The man was holding her so close Zeke thought they were going to fall on the ground together. Geez. Was the guy going to paw her right in the yard?

And where were his clothes? He was in his boxers!

“Why's that man got on his underwear?” August asked.

Zeke swallowed.
Exactly what I'd like to know.
“I don't know, honey. Maybe he spilled something on his clothes or something.”

Paige hit the garage opener and the door slid open, then the two of them walked slowly inside, still holding onto one another as if their bodies were cemented together. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, lost his balance and fell forward on his nose.

Just as he righted himself, she must have hit the button again and the garage door descended, blocking their bodies from his view.

“She's home now,” August said.

“Yeah, you can go to sleep, Daddy.”

Yeah, right.
Sleep was the last thing he could do. He glanced over his shoulder to see both girls spying through the tent window. He shot them a stern look and they quickly dropped down and snuggled into their sleeping bags. Within seconds, both girls drifted into sleep. Zeke's gaze once again strayed to Paige's house, his thoughts jumbled and confused.

A light flicked on in the kitchen window and he spotted Paige's silhouette, then Dash's shadow as they walked out of the room. The charred dinner he'd consumed earlier sank into the pit of his stomach.

Paige wasn't the woman for him, but he hadn't pegged her for the party type either. She'd been so sweet and kind to the girls, but he had to face the facts. Attracted to her or not, she had simply been doing him a favor. He yanked his sleeping bag over his legs, wondering why he felt disappointed in her. They weren't involved, had never dated, she hadn't even pretended to want to get involved in his little family. He fisted his hand and punched his pillow, the lumpy bunched up mass suddenly irritating him beyond reason. It was a good damn thing he'd decided not to get involved with her.

Any woman who'd let a strange man spend the night with her wasn't mommy material. At least, not for his daughters.

 

P
AIGE SUDDENLY
jerked awake, startled at the scratching sound from downstairs. Slivers of early morning light sliced the room through the venetian blinds and she glanced at the bedside clock. 6 a.m. Someone was in her house?

A low whine echoed from downstairs. She threw off the comforter, slipped on her bedroom shoes and tiptoed
toward the stairwell, then listened again. Someone, or
something,
was definitely in the kitchen. Was it Dash?

No, she'd called a taxi and sent him out the front door as soon as she'd weaseled his address out of him. A thumping sound drifted up the stairs and she froze again, clutching her robe. What if those vandals had broken in? Or a robber?

Her heart racing, she grabbed her portable phone, spotted a glass vase on her dresser and grabbed it to use as a weapon. She eased her bedroom door open, careful so her footsteps wouldn't make a sound as she quickly scanned the hallway. Then she tiptoed down the steps, barely breathing as they squeaked beneath her feet. When she pushed the door to the kitchen open, soft rumbling filled the air. It sounded as if someone was…was
snoring.

She held her breath, the vase poised at her side, then peeked inside. Henrietta? Zeke's dog was lying in her kitchen, sleeping like a baby. And snoring like an old man.

She sighed in relief, then put the vase on the kitchen table and clutched her stomach as a bout of nervous laughter escaped her. The lazy dog had stretched out beside her kitchen table, making herself perfectly at home. But she'd scared the bejeebies out of her.

“Paige, help!”

Paige swung around at the cry, then covered her hand with her mouth to mask her surprise when Summer's head bobbed through the pet door.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Paige raced over and knelt in front of her, afraid she would get stuck.

“Hunting Henrietta,” Summer said as if her early morning visit made perfect sense.

Paige scooted closer, grabbed the child's arms and tugged her through the doorway. Summer wiggled and
squirmed, finally squeezing through the small opening, and they both fell forward onto the floor from the force.

“That was fun,” Summer said with a giggle.

Paige shoved her tousled curls from her eyes. “Well, next time knock, sweetie. You could have gotten stuck.”

Summer hopped up, brushed off the ends of her pink shorts and petted Henrietta's head.

Paige began making coffee. “Where's your sister and your dad?”

“They was asleep. I woke up and Henrietta was missing so I went looking for her, then I saw your gate open and I came over.”

“So you're the early bird?”

“Yep.” Summer rubbed her stomach. “'Sides, I'm hungry. Daddy burned the hot dogs last night. August and I fedded ours to Henrietta.”

Paige chuckled. “How about some strawberry pancakes? I'm cooking myself some and I can never eat them all.”

Summer's eyes lit up. “Yum.”

“Come on,” Paige whispered. “You can help me. We'll eat before your dad even wakes up and knows you're missing.”

 

“W
AKE UP
, D
ADDY
. Summer and Henrietta's missing!”

Zeke squinted against the morning sun blazing through the tent, then grunted again as August bounced her body up and down on his stomach. “What, who's missing?” Zeke bolted upright as August's words sank in. Then he gently lifted August from his chest, and searched the tent. Panic sent the blood roaring in his ears.

“I bet she's in the yard.” August skipped outside, laughing at the sunshine as it played across her face.

Zeke rushed behind her, scanning the yard. No Hen
rietta. No Summer. He spun in circles, calling her name. “Summer! Summer! Answer me. Where are you?”

After searching the house high and low again, he remembered the last time the girls had sneaked off on their own—the little red wagon and the fliers. He ran to the garage. Nope. The red wagon remained parked beside the lawn mower.

“Daddy,” August yelled. “Maybe she went to Paige's.”

Zeke raked a hand through his hair, then hurried out the back door, praying August was right. But the red Ferrari still sat in Paige's driveway and anger churned in his stomach. Paige's date from the previous night was still there. And it was six-thirty in the morning!

He crossed the driveway in long strides. “I'll be right back, August. You stay here.”

“But why can't I come, Daddy?”

Zeke paused at her innocent expression and bit back the real reason for his request. His girls were too young and impressionable for the kind of scene they might find. Hell, he didn't even want to see it. Just the idea of Paige sharing breakfast with that Dash guy made bile rise in his throat.

“Go get us some orange juice and doughnuts,” he finally said. “I'll get Summer and Henrietta and we'll have a picnic breakfast in the backyard.”

“Yippee. Sugar doughnuts!” August raced into the house.

He stomped over to Paige's, his pulse beating wildly. As soon as he stepped on the landing, he heard voices. And laughter. Paige's and Summer's. So she did have his daughter in there while she entertained a man!

Not that he had any right to tell her what to do, but when his daughter was involved, he certainly did. He
raised his hand to knock, not bothering to mask his anger. His polite knock turned into an incessant pound.

The door swung open seconds later and he stared into Paige's sensuous green eyes, momentarily lost. Her hair lay in a mass of red curls tumbling around her oval face and she was wearing a soft blue robe which parted mid-thigh, exposing her gorgeous slim legs. No bra. He could see her breasts jiggle when she lowered her arm. Damn.

Her sexy early morning rumpled appearance only fired his anger more. While he'd been next door with his girls in a tent sleeping on the hard ground, thinking about her and wishing he was with her, she'd been next door sharing her bed with another man. And from the looks of her puffy eyes, she hadn't been
sleeping
either.

“Summer, you need to come home,” Zeke said, his voice sounding harsher than he'd intended.

“But Daddy—”

“No, buts, Summer.”

Paige folded her arms beneath her breasts, accentuating her curves even more. “Zeke, what's going on? Did you wake up on the wrong side of your sleeping bag?”

He pinned Paige with a mutinous stare, furious with himself for still being attracted to her when she had another man in her house, probably in her bed at that moment. “We'll talk later. Right now I want my daughter to come home.”

Paige took a step backward, her lips parting slightly in surprise at his hostile tone. Summer merely stared at him from Paige's round oak table, a fork hanging in midair over a plate of something that appeared to be homemade pancakes, one of Paige's dolls tucked tightly beneath her arm. The bright cheery kitchen and bench full of country folk dolls irritated him even more. And Paige's wounded expression made him feel like a heel.

But he didn't want his little girl in the house with Paige and a stranger while they were cavorting between the sheets. Another unexplained bout of fury streaked
through him. The man was probably upstairs, waiting for his breakfast in bed. Paige's sleep-flushed skin and near-nakedness advertised her sexuality like a billboard. He needed to leave before he made a fool out of himself.

“I said come on, Summer.” He hooked his thumb toward the door.

“Zeke, what's wrong?” Paige's voice sounded so innocent he wanted to strangle her.

“I don't wanna go, Daddy. I want seconds.”

The door squeaked open and August suddenly ran in, her eyes widening when she saw the plate of hotcakes. “Yum! Can I have some?”

“Sure.” Paige reached for another plate.

“No,” Zeke said at the same time.

August's stomach growled. “But I'm hungry, and you never make us pancakes.”

“Yeah, Daddy, you use those frozen ones in the box.”

Zeke raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, girls, you can't just drop over here any time you want and eat with Paige.” He pointed to Summer. “You aren't supposed to leave the yard without asking my permission.”

Summer's lower lip trembled.

A low sound tore from Paige's throat. “Zeke, maybe she should have told you, but—”

“I don't think
you
should be giving me parenting advice.” Zeke made an exaggerated point of glancing around her kitchen, speaking through gritted teeth. “At least not under the circumstances.”

Paige's shoulders tensed, her mouth tight with anger. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”

“Well, for starters you're not even dressed.” His gaze raked over her satiny robe, pausing briefly on the yellow fuzzy duck bedroom shoes swallowing her dainty feet.

She planted one foot over the other as if the movement could hide the duck's beaded eyes, then looked back at Zeke, arms akimbo. “I'm perfectly covered. And I hardly think there's anything wrong with Summer seeing me in my bathrobe.”

But it's driving me crazy.
He suppressed the erotic images her outfit conjured. “It's not appropriate, Paige.”

August yanked on the leg of his sweatpants. “Daddy, don't yell at Paige!”

Zeke gestured toward the hallway. “August, stay out of this.” He faced Paige, toe-to-toe. “Besides, Paige has company,” he said in a harsh whisper. “You can visit her another time.”

“You're being mean,” August accused.

“Company?”

Paige's perplexed expression riled him even more. Why was she pretending innocence? “The Ferrari,” he snapped, jerking his head toward the driveway.

He saw the minute the light flicked on her in her beautiful head. Her rosy lips curved into a slight smile, adding fuel to his temper. “Oh, you think…you mean—” She pointed her index finger toward the driveway.

“Yes, I mean…” He allowed his voice to trail off, hoping not to blurt out the issue just in case Summer hadn't already seen the man.

“Daddy, the vertible guy isn't here anymore,” Summer said through a mouthful of strawberries.

“We seen him come in last night with you,” August said. “We was watchin' from the tent.”

“Yeah, Daddy fell on his nose—”

“Girls!” Heat climbed Zeke's neck.

“Why was he wearing his underwear?” Summer asked.

Paige chuckled softly. “Because he fell in the pool and got his clothes wet, sweetheart.”

“Girls, we'd better go,” Zeke said tightly.

Paige's gaze locked with Zeke's. “He's not here, Zeke.”

“He's not?”

She shook her head, the tangled curls flopping into her eyes.

“But his car…”

“He took a taxi home last night.”

“Why'd he do that?” August asked.

The aroma of coffee and food and Paige's sweetly scented body wafted around Zeke, dancing through his nerve endings, tying them in knots. She flicked her tongue over her upper lip and he had to fight the temptation to wipe the dollop of syrup from her mouth. She seemed to be having trouble tearing her gaze from him, too, but finally she answered August in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Dash wasn't feeling well last night so he took a cab home, honey. He'll pick up his car later.”

“Oh. Pancakes are yummy.” Summer rubbed her stomach as if Paige's answer completely satisfied her. But Zeke wanted to know what had happened, or rather, what
hadn't
happened.

“Can I have some?” August dropped the box of powdered doughnuts on the counter, eyeing the syrup and hotcakes.

Zeke's tongue felt thick in his throat. He'd made an idiot of himself for no reason. “Uh…I guess it's all right, if Paige has enough, that is. I'll just eat crow.”

“What's crow, daddy?”

“It's a bird,” August whispered in horror.

Summer made a face. “Gross, you're not gonna eat a bird, are you?”

August gulped. “Won't the feathers get stuck in your throat?”

“Yuk!”

Paige and Zeke laughed. “No, sweetie, it's just an expression,” Zeke explained.

Paige narrowed her eyes at him. “You can have crow on top of your pancakes, instead of strawberries, Zeke.”

He winced. “Look, Paige, I'm really sorry.”

She tapped her foot on the floor, hurt lingering in her eyes.

“I don't know what else to say, but I was wrong,” he whispered sincerely.

One corner of her mouth finally lifted into a smile. “All right. Apology accepted.”

Then she turned and dished up fresh hotcakes as if nothing had happened, serving August as she climbed in a chair. His mouth watered.

“Can I help?” Zeke asked sheepishly, finally realizing he'd barged in her house with his T-shirt backward, his feet bare.

“Sure, pour the girls some milk.” Paige added the condiments to the table. “And if you want coffee, mugs are in that top cabinet above the sink.”

Zeke nodded, found the glasses and mugs and sipped his coffee, his gaze mesmerized by the sway of Paige's hips as she casually walked over to join them. He had a sudden image of the four of them settling down to breakfast every morning, Paige sliding her arms around his neck and nuzzling his face with her own, carrying her back to bed to make long, hot love to her after the girls climbed on the school bus. He'd take the strawberries and cream and—

“Syrup?”

The bottle clunked down in front of him, jarring him from his erotic thoughts. He hadn't realized Paige had slipped into the seat beside him. But he did notice she made a big production of tightening the belt at her waist.

The girls were already licking the last of their syrup and hotcakes. “We're taking Henrietta outside and gonna check on the kitties.” August grabbed Summer's hand and they tugged the lazy dog out the door.

An awkward silence filled the room. Zeke fidgeted in his chair, vowing silently to speak to his daughters about getting him into these sticky situations. “Sorry the girls bothered you this morning. And…me, too.”

Paige sipped her coffee. “So, you thought I'd let a strange guy spend the night and invite your girls in while he was here? You must not think much of me, Zeke.”

Zeke immediately regretted his impulsive behavior. “Look, Paige, I'm sorry.” When he saw her lick the sweet syrup from her lips, his hand stilled. “I saw the car and assumed…”

She pointed her fork at him. “I may not be mommy material, Zeke Blalock, but I'm not the kind of girl to hop in bed with just any guy, especially a drunk one. And I certainly wouldn't flaunt a lover in front of a couple of young impressionable children.”

A lover?
“I didn't say you would. And who ever said you weren't mommy material?”

Paige lowered her eyes, refusing to look at him. “That's what you implied.”

“I never implied that.” Zeke hesitated, disturbed on more than one level, but his mind took a fast track back to the man he'd thought had spent the night with Paige. “So, he's your lover?”

“That's none of your business.”

Tension escalated between them as he tried to curb his questions. He didn't know very much about Paige, except judging from her kitchen, she was neat and orderly. Everything tidy and clean and in its place. It was a wonder she hadn't screamed like a banshee when she'd seen his home.

But he wanted to know more, not just the surface Paige with the neat, perfectly decorated house. He wanted to touch her, wanted to see her laugh, wanted to make her pant with passion, wanted to share a lot more than breakfast with her. Wanted her to lose that calm, cool control she wore around her like a cloak of armor. Wanted to assure her she would be a great mother…and an even better lover.

Paige plucked a strawberry from the bowl and popped the end into her mouth, her anger obviously subsiding. The sweet red juice colored her soft lips and he could practically taste the delicious juice as she sucked the ripe fruit. God, she was killing him.

“So, are you involved with this guy? What about that security consultant, Derrick?” How many boyfriends did she have?

“No, last night was our first date. And our last. Derrick and Dash were roommates at Stanford. He wanted me to get to know Dash.”

Zeke's head was spinning from trying to figure out her relationships. Women! Maybe she was trying to make Derrick jealous. Or was Derrick into threesomes? He certainly wouldn't share Paige if she was his woman. “You should be careful, Paige—”

“I can take care of myself,” Paige cut in.

His eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Well, if you ever need anything, I'm right next door.”

She smiled as if she'd understood his double meaning
and might take him up on it, and his heartbeat picked up to an unsteady beat. “Thanks. I'll remember that.”

Early morning light shimmered on the russet strands of her tousled hair casting a softness to her face that added to her vulnerability. Her soft voice almost shattered his control, made him forget about Derrick and Dash. She caught his gaze, and a flicker of desire darkened the centers of her beautiful green eyes. He couldn't resist the impulse to touch her.

His fingers trembled slightly as he gently rubbed her chin with his thumb. He heard her breathe, a soft whisper of desire that coiled his insides with fiery heat, then pulled her mouth to his, teasing her lips with his as he inhaled the sultry scent of her shampoo and feminine sweetness. Then he hesitated, half expecting her to pull away, but he saw the pulse hammering at the base of her neck and realized she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted her.

She tasted of strawberries and cream and a hint of strong, delicious coffee, sweet and luscious. When her lips melded against his, he felt her need in the involuntary way she parted her lips to taste him. With a quiet sigh of feminine yearning, she accepted the invasion of his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth and he seared her lips with his, totally claiming her. Leaning forward, he felt her body press against his, and he thrust his hand deep into the tresses of her already sleep-tousled hair, wishing for the life of him he could bury his whole body inside hers.

Her hand sank into his thick hair and he heard a low moan and realized he'd made the sound. Anxious to be closer, he scooted back his chair and slid his other arm behind her back, stroking the column of her spine, his
body hardening with desire when he felt her breasts press against his chest.

“Daddy!” the girls yelled from outside.

The two of them jumped apart guiltily. He stood so abruptly his chair fell backward and hit the floor with a loud thud. Paige's creamy skin looked flushed and her lips were bruised and swollen from his kisses. Her troubled gaze locked with his, but she quickly averted her eyes and stood, then turned to the stove when August and Summer screamed for him again. He quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The girls banged on the screened door, jerking him back to reality. And reminding him of the very reason he shouldn't be kissing Paige. “Daddy, come check the kitties. Fluffy's climbing out of the box!” August yelled.

“Uh, I guess I'd better go.” He righted the chair, hating the way his husky voice betrayed his calm. Paige nodded, still not facing him.

“Paige?”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

She paused, finally meeting his gaze. Confusion clouded her expression, but he also saw the desire still nestled in its wake and his gut clenched. In spite of all the warning bells clamoring in his head, he wanted to kiss her again.

“Daddy! Hurry!”

“I…I'd better go. Thanks for breakfast.”

Instantly she glanced at her hands and shoved the bowl in the sink. “Sure, no problem.”

He opened his mouth to tell her the kiss was a mistake, but snapped it closed, deciding he couldn't say the words, not when he wanted to repeat the experience all over again. He remembered her hands in his hair, her volup
tuous body pressed against his own rock hard one. “I'll see you later,” he finally said.