The SEAL's Secret Heirs (2 page)

He was sad to learn Margaret had passed, sure. He'd liked thinking about her on the other side of the world, living a normal life that he was helping to secure by going after bad guys. But they'd spent less than forty-eight hours together and had barely known each other, by design. He wasn't devastated—it wasn't as if he'd lost the love of his life or anything. Not like when he'd lost Grace.

“We used protection,” he muttered. As if that was the most important thing to get straight at this point. “I don't understand. How did she get pregnant?”

“The normal way, I imagine. Moron.” Liam rolled his eyes the way he'd always done when they were younger. “Do you have any interest whatsoever in meeting your daughters?”

Kyle blinked. “Well...yeah. Of course. What happened to them after Margaret died? Who's taking care of them?”

“I am. Me and Hadley. Who's the most amazing woman. She's the nanny I hired when you didn't respond to any of my calls.”

Reeling, Kyle tried to gather some of his wits, but they seemed as scattered and filmy as clouds on a mild spring day. “Thanks. That's... You didn't have to. That's above the call of duty.”

Liam crossed his arms, biceps rippling under the sleeve of his T-shirt. “They're great babies. Beautiful. And I didn't do it for you. I did it because I love them. Hadley and I, we're planning to keep on taking care of them, too.”

“That's not going to happen. You've spent the last ten minutes whaling on me about not coming home to take responsibility for this. I'm here. I'm man enough to step up.” He set his jaw, which still throbbed. “I want to see them.”

The atmosphere fairly vibrated with animosity as they stared each other down, neither blinking, neither backing down. Something flickered through Liam's gaze and he gave one curt nod.

“Fine.” Liam called up the stairs off the kitchen that led to the upper stories.

After the longest three minutes of Kyle's life, he heard footsteps and a pretty, blonde woman who must be the nanny came down the stairs. But Kyle only had eyes for the pink bundles, one each in the crook of her arms.

Sucker punch number two.

Those were real, live, honest-to-God babies. What the hell was he thinking, saying that he wanted to see them? What was that supposed to prove? That he didn't know squat about babies?

They were so small. Nearly identical. Twins, like Kyle and Liam. He'd always heard that identical twins skipped generations, but apparently not.

“What are their names?” he whispered.

“Madeline and Margaret Wade,” the woman responded, and the babies lifted their heads toward the sound of her voice. Clearly she'd spent a lot of time with them. “We call them Maddie and Maggie for short.”

Somehow that seemed perfect for their little wrinkled faces. “Can I hold them?”

“Sure. This is Maggie.” She handed over the first one and cheerfully helped Kyle get the baby situated without being asked, which he appreciated more than he could possibly say because his stupid hands suddenly seemed too clumsy to handle something so breakable.

Hey, little girl
. He couldn't talk over the lump in his throat, and no one seemed inclined to make him, so he just looked at her. His heart thumped as it expanded, growing larger the longer he held his daughter. That was a kick in the pants. Who would have thought you could instantly love someone like that? It should have taken time. But there it was.

Now what? What if she cried? What if
he
cried?

He'd hoped a flood of knowledge would magically appear if he could just get his hands on the challenge. You didn't learn to hack through vegetation with a machete until you put it in your palm and started hacking.

“You can take her back,” he said gruffly, overwhelmed with all the emotion he had no idea what to do with. But there was still another one. Another daughter. He found new appreciation for the term
double trouble
.

“This one is Maddie,” the woman said.

Somehow, the other pink bundle ended up in his arms. Instantly, he could tell she was smaller, weighing less than her sister. Strange. She felt even more fragile than her sister, as if Kyle should be careful how heavily he breathed or he might blow her to the ground with an extra big huff.

Equal parts love and fierce devotion surged through the heart he'd already thought was full, splitting it open. She'd need someone to look out for her. To protect her.

That's on me. My job.

And then being a father made all the sense in the world. These were his girls. The reason he wasn't dead in a foxhole flopped out next to Cortez right now. The Almighty got it perfectly right some days.

“And this is Hadley Wade, my wife,” Liam broke in with the scowl that seemed to be a permanent part of his face nowadays. “We still introduce ourselves in these parts.”

“It's okay,” Hadley said with a hand on Liam's elbow. Her palm settled into the crook comfortably, as if they were intimate often. “Give him a break. It's a lot to take in.”

“I'm done.” Kyle rubbed his free hand across his military-issue buzz cut, but it didn't stimulate his brain much. He contemplated Hadley, the woman Liam had casually mentioned that he'd married, as if that was some small thing. “I don't think there's much more I can take in. I appreciate what you've done in my stead, but these are my girls. I want to be their father, in all the ways that count. I'm here and I'm sticking around Royal.”

That hadn't been set in his mind until this moment. But it would take a bulldozer to shove him onto a different path now.

“Well, it's not as simple as all that,” Liam corrected. “Their mama is gone and you weren't around. So even though I have temporary custody, these girls became wards of the state and had a social worker assigned. You're gonna have to deal with the red tape before you start joining the PTA and picking out matching Easter dresses.”

Wearily, Kyle nodded. “I get that. What do I have to do?”

Hadley and Liam exchanged glances and a sense of foreboding rose up in Kyle's stomach.

With a sigh, Liam pulled out his cell phone. “I'll call their social worker. But before she gets here, you should know that it's Grace Haines.”

Grace
. The name hit him in the solar plexus and all the air rushed from his lungs.

Sucker punch number three.

* * *

Grace Haines had avoided looking at the date all day, but it sneaked up on her after lunch. She stared at the letters and numbers she'd just typed on a case file.

March 12. The third anniversary of the day she'd become a Professional Single Girl. She should get cake. Or a card. Something to mark the occasion of when she'd given up the ghost and decided to be happy with her career as a social worker. Instead of continually dating men who were nice enough, but could never live up to her standards, she'd learn to be by herself.

Was it so wrong to want a man who doted on her as her father did with her mother? She wasn't asking for much. Flowers occasionally. A text message here and there with a heart emoticon and a simple
thinking of you
. Something that showed Grace was a priority. That the guy noticed when she wasn't there.

Yeah, that was dang difficult, apparently. The decision to stop actively looking for Mr. Right and start going to museums and plays as a party of one hadn't been all that hard. As a bonus, she never had to compromise on date night by seeing a science fiction movie where special effects drowned out the dialogue. She could do whatever she wanted with her Saturday nights.

It was great. Or at least that was what she told herself. Loudly. It drowned out the voice in her heart that kept insisting she would never get the family she desperately wanted if she didn't date.

In lieu of a Happy Professional Single Girl cake, Grace settled for a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup from the vending machine and got back to work. The children's cases the county had entrusted to her were not going to handle themselves, and there were some heartbreakers in her caseload. She loved her job and thanked God every day she got to make a difference in the lives of the children she helped.

If she couldn't have children of her own, she'd make do with loving other people's.

Her desk phone rang and she picked up the receiver, accidentally knocking over the framed picture of her mom and dad celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary at a luau in Hawaii. One day she'd go there, she vowed as she righted the frame. Even if she had to travel to Hawaii solo, it was still Hawaii.

“Grace Haines. How can I help you today?”

“It's Liam,” the voice on the other end announced, and the gravity in his tone tripped her radar.

“Are the girls all right?” Panicked, Grace threw a couple of manila folders into her tote in preparation to fly to her car. She could be at Wade Ranch in less than twenty minutes if she ignored the speed limit and prayed to Jesus that Sheriff Battle wasn't sitting in his squad car at the Royal city limits the way he usually did. “What's happened to the babies? It's Maddie, isn't it? I knew that she wasn't—”

“The girls are fine,” he interrupted. “They're with Hadley. It's Kyle. He came home.”

Grace froze, mid-file transfer. The manila folder fell to the floor in slow motion from her nerveless fingers, opened at the spine and spilled papers across the linoleum.

“What?” she whispered.

Kyle
.

Her first kiss. Her first love. Her first taste of the agonizing pain a man could cause.

He wasn't supposed to be here. The twin daughters Kyle Wade had fathered were parentless, or so she'd convinced herself. That was the only reason she'd taken the case, once Liam assured her he'd called the USO, the California base Kyle had shipped out of and the President of the United States. No response, he'd said.

No response meant no conflict of interest.

If Kyle was back, her interest was so conflicted, she couldn't even see through it.

“He's here. At Wade Ranch,” Liam confirmed. “You need to come by as soon as possible and help us sort this out.”

Translation: Liam and Hadley wanted to adopt Maddie and Maggie and with Kyle in the picture, that wasn't as easy as they'd all assumed. Grace would have to convince him to waive his parental rights. If he didn't want to, then she'd have to assess Kyle's fitness as a parent and potentially even give him custody, despite knowing in her heart that he'd be a horrible father. It was a huge tangle.

The best scenario would be to transfer the case to someone else. But on short notice? Probably wasn't going to happen.

“I'll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Liam. It'll work out.”

Grace hung up and dropped her head down into the crook of her elbow.

Somehow, she was supposed to go to Wade Ranch and do her job, while ignoring the fact that Kyle Wade had broken her heart into tiny little pieces, and then promptly joined the military, as if she hadn't mattered at all. And somehow, she had to ignore the fact that she still wasn't over it. Or him.

Two

G
race knocked on the door of Wade House and steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. Which was what she'd been doing in the car on the way over. And at her desk before that.

No one else in the county office could take on another case, so Grace had agreed to keep Maddie and Maggie under the premise that she'd run all her recommendations through her supervisor before she told the parties involved about her decisions. Which meant she couldn't just decide ahead of time that Kyle wasn't fit. She had to prove it.

It would be a stringent process, with no room for error. She'd have to justify her report with far more data and impartial observations than she'd ever had to before. It meant twice as many visits and twice as much documentation. Of course. Because who didn't want to spend a bunch of time with a high-school boyfriend who'd ruined you for dating any other man?

Hopefully, he'd just give up his rights without a fight and they could all go on.

The door swung open and Grace forgot to breathe. Kyle Wade was indeed home.

Hungrily, her gaze skittered over his grown-up face.
Oh, my
. Still gorgeous, but sun worn, with new lines around his eyes that said he'd seen some things in the past ten years and they weren't all pleasant. His hair was shorn shorter than short, but it fit this new version of Kyle.

His green eyes were diamond hard. That was new, too. He'd never been open and friendly, but she'd burrowed under that reserve back in high school and when he really looked at her with his signature blend of love and devotion—it had been magic.

She instantly wanted to burrow under that hardness once again. Because she knew she was the only one who could, the only one he'd let in. The only one who could soothe his loneliness, the way she'd done back then.

Gah
, what was she
thinking
?

She couldn't focus on that. Couldn't remember what it had been like when it was good, because when it was bad, it was really bad. This man had destroyed her, nearly derailing her entire first year at college as she picked up the broken pieces he'd left behind.

“Hey, Grace.”

Kyle's voice washed over her and the steeling she'd done to prepare for this moment? Useless.

“Kyle,” she returned a bit brusquely, but if she started blubbering, she'd never forgive herself. “I'm happy to see that you've finally decided to acknowledge your children.”

Chances were good that wouldn't last. He'd ship out again at a moment's notice, running off to indulge his selfish thirst for adventure, leaving behind a mess. As he'd done the first time. But Grace was here to make sure he didn't hurt anyone in the process, least of all those precious babies.

“Yep,” he agreed easily. “I took a slow boat from China all right. But I'm here now. Do whatever you have to do to make it okay with the county for me to be a father to my daughters.”

Ha. Fathers were loving, caring, selfless. They didn't become distant and uncommunicative on a regular basis and then forget they had plans with you. And then forget to apologize for leaving you high and dry. Nor did they have the option to quit when the going got tough.

“Well, that's not going to happen today,” she said firmly. “I'll do several site visits to make sure that you're providing the right environment for the girls. They need to feel safe and loved and it's my job to put them into the home that will give them that. You might not be the best answer.”

The hardness in his expression intensified. “They're mine. I'll take care of them.”

His quiet fierceness set her back. Guess that answered the question about whether he'd put up a token fight and then sign whatever she put in front of him that would terminate his parental rights. The fact that he wasn't—it was throwing her for a loop. “Actually, they're mine. They became wards of the state when you didn't respond to the attempts we all made to find you. That's what happens to abandoned babies.”

That might have come out harshly. So what. It was the truth, even if the sentiment had some leftover emotion from when Kyle had done that to her. She had to protect the babies, no matter what.

“There were...circumstances. I didn't get any of Liam's messages or I would have come as soon as I could.” His mouth firmed into an inflexible line. “That's not important now. Come in and visit. Tell me what I have to do.”

“Fine.”

She followed him into the formal parlor that had been restored to what she imagined was Wade House's former glory. The Victorian furniture was beautiful and luxurious, and a man like Kyle looked ridiculous sitting on the elegantly appointed chair. Good grief, the spindly legs didn't seem strong enough to support such a solid body. Kyle had gained weight, and the way he moved indicated it was 100 percent finely honed muscle under his clothes. He'd adopted a lazy, slow walk that seemed at odds with all that, but certainly fit a laid-back cowboy at home on his ranch.

Not that she'd noticed or anything.

She took her own seat and perched on the edge, too keyed up to relax. “We'll need to fill out some paperwork. What do you plan to do for employment now that you're home?”

Kyle quirked an eyebrow. “Being a Wade isn't enough?”

Frowning, she held her manila folder in front of her like a shield, though what she thought it was going to protect her from, she had no idea. Kyle's diamond-bit green eyes drilled through her very flesh and bone, deep into the soft places she'd thought were well protected against men. Especially this one.

“No, it's not enough. Inheriting money isn't an indicator of your worth as a parent. I need to see a demonstration of commitment. A permanency that will show you can provide a stable environment for Maddie and Maggie.”

“So being able to buy them whatever they want and being able to put food on the table no matter what isn't good enough.”

It was not a question but a challenge. She tried not to roll her eyes, she really did. But if you looked up “clueless” in the dictionary, you'd see a picture of Kyle Wade. “That's right. Liam and Hadley can do those things and have been for over two months. Are you prepared for all the special treatments and doctor's visits Maddie will require? I have to know.”

Kyle went stiff all at once, freezing so quickly that she got a little concerned. She should really stop caring so much but it was impossible to shut off her desire to help people. This whole conversation was difficult. She and Kyle used to be comfortable with each other. She missed that easiness between them, but there was no room for anything other than a professional and necessary distance.

“Doctor's visits?” Kyle repeated softly. “Is there something wrong with Maddie?”

“Maddie suffers from twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. She has some heart problems that are pretty serious.”

“I...didn't know.”

The bleakness in his expression reached out and twisted her heart. She wanted to lash out at him. Blame him. Those girls had been fighting for their lives after Margaret died, and where was Kyle? “Just out of curiosity, why did you come home now? Why not two months ago when Margaret first came looking for you? Or for that matter, why not when she first found out she was pregnant?”

She cut off the tirade there. Oh, there was plenty more she wanted to say, but it would veer into personal barbs that wouldn't help anything. She had a job to do and the information-gathering stage should—and would—stay on a professional level.

Besides, she knew he'd been stationed overseas. He probably hadn't had the luxury of jetting off whenever he felt like it. But he could have at least called.

Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the gold velvet cushions of the too-small chair, biceps bulging. He'd grown some interesting additions to what had already been a nicely built body. Automatically, her gaze wandered south, taking in all the parts that made up that great physique. Wow, had it gotten hot in here, or what? She fanned her face with the manila folder.

But then he eyed her, his face a careful mask that dared her to break through it. Which totally unnerved her. This darker, harder, fiercer Kyle Wade was dangerous. Because she wanted to understand why he was dark, hard and fierce. Why he'd broken her heart and then left.

“You got me all figured out, seems like,” he drawled. “Why don't you tell me why I didn't hop on a plane and stick by Margaret's side during her pregnancy?”

Couldn't the man just answer a simple question? He'd always been like this—uncommunicative and prone to leaving instead of dealing with problems head-on. His attitude was so infuriating, she said the first thing that popped into her head.

“Guilt, probably. You didn't want to be involved and hoped the problem would go away on its own.” And that was totally unfair. Wasn't it? She had no idea why he hadn't contacted anyone. This new version of Kyle was unsettling
because
she didn't know him that well anymore.

Really, she wasn't that good at reading people in the first place. It was a professional weakness that she hated, but couldn't seem to fix. Once upon a time, she'd thought this man was her forever after, her Prince Charming, Clark Gable and Dr. McDreamy all rolled into one. Which was totally false. She'd bought heavily into that lie, so how could she trust her own judgment? She couldn't. That's why she had to be so methodical in her approach to casework, because she couldn't afford to let emotion rule her decisions. Or afford to make a mistake, not when the future of a child was at stake.

And she wouldn't do either here. Maddie and Maggie deserved a loving home with a family who paid attention to their every need. Kyle Wade was not the right man for that, no matter what he said he wanted.

“Well, then,” he said easily. “Guess that answers your question.”

It so did not. She still didn't know why he'd come home now, why he'd suddenly shown an interest in his daughters. Whether he could possibly convince her he planned to stick around—if he was even serious about that. Kyle had a habit of running away from his problems, after all.

First and foremost, how could she assess whether the time-hardened man before her could ever provide the loving, nurturing environment two fragile little girls needed?

But she'd let it slide for now. There was plenty of time to work through all of that, since Maddie and Maggie were still legally in the care of Liam and Hadley.

“I think I have enough for now. I'll file my first report and send you a copy when it's approved.” She had to get out of here. Before she broke down under the emotional onslaught of everything.

“That's it, huh? What's the report going to say?”

“It's going to say that you've expressed an interest in retaining your parental rights and that I've advised you that I can't approve that until I do several more site visits.”

He cocked his head, evaluating her coolly. “How long is that going to take?”

“Until I'm satisfied with your fitness as a parent. Or until I decide you're unfit. At which point I'll make recommendations as to what I believe is the best home for those precious girls. I will likely recommend they stay with Liam and Hadley.”

Without warning, Kyle was on his feet, an intense vibe rippling down his powerful body. She'd have sworn he hadn't moved, and then all of a sudden, there he was, staring down at her with a sharpness about him, as if he'd homed in on her and her alone. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

It was precisely the kind of focus she'd craved once. But not now. Not like this.

“Why would you give my kids to my brother?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Well, the most obvious reason is because he and Hadley want them. They've already looked into adoption. But also because they know the babies' needs and have already been providing the best place for the girls.”

“You are not taking away my daughters,” he said succinctly. “Why does this feel personal?”

She blinked. “This is the opposite of personal, Kyle. My job is to be the picture of impartiality. Our history has nothing to do with this.”

“I was starting to wonder if you recalled that we had a history,” he drawled slowly, loading the words with meaning.

The intensity rolling from him heightened a notch, and she shivered as he perused her as if he'd found the last morsel of chocolate in the pantry—and he was starving. All at once, she had a feeling they were both remembering the sweet fire of first love. They might have been young, but what they'd lacked in experience, they made up for in enthusiasm. Their relationship had hit some high notes that she'd prefer not to be remembering right this minute. Not with the man who'd made her body sing a scant few feet away.

“I haven't forgotten one day of our relationship.” Why did her voice sound so breathless?

“Even the last one?” he murmured, and his voice skittered down her spine with teeth she wasn't expecting.

“I'm not sure what you mean.” Confused as to why warning sirens were going off in her head, she stared at the spot where the inverted tray ceiling seams came together. “We broke up. You didn't notice. Then you joined the military and eventually came home. Here we are.”

“Oh, I noticed, Grace.” The honeyed quality of his tone drew her gaze to his and the green fire there blazed with heat she didn't know what to do with. “I think we can both agree that what happened between us ten years ago was a mistake. Never to be repeated. We'll let bygones be bygones and you'll figure out a way to make this pesky custody issue go away. Deal?”

A mistake. Bygones
. Her heart stung as it absorbed the words that confirmed she hadn't meant that much to him. Breaking up with him hadn't fazed him the way she'd hoped. The daring ploy she'd staged to get his attention—by letting him catch her with Liam, a notorious womanizer—hadn't worked, either, because he hadn't really cared whether she messed around with his brother. The whole ruse had been for naught.