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Authors: Lois Faye Dyer

BOOK: Triple Trouble
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The tabby seemed twice its former size, the fur all over its body standing on end, including its tail, which looked like a bottle brush. It stuck straight up in the air and seemed to quiver with outrage. Rufus barked again, his ears alert with interest. The cat narrowed its eyes and spat, hissing in fury. “Rufus, I don’t think the cat wants to play,” Nick said dryly.

The big dog whined, paws dancing against the grass beneath the tree.

“Maybe the cat isn’t feeling sociable, but Rufus clearly thinks he’s found a friend,”

Charlene observed.

“Good thing the cat’s up there and he’s down here,” Nick said. “Or Rufus might learn a lesson about unfriendly cats.”

Rufus barked and the triplets pounded on the stroller tray, their excited shrieks adding to the noise.

Nick winced and grabbed Rufus’s collar, towing him away from the tree while pushing the stroller ahead of them and several feet down the sidewalk. Still holding the big dog’s leash, Charlene gave one quick glance at the tree behind them, where the cat continued to hiss and glower.

“I’m not sure who’s more disappointed that the cat wouldn’t come down,” she said with a laugh when the dog and the triplets had subsided into relative quiet, “Rufus or the girls.”

“If sheer noise could tell us, I’d say it’s a toss-up.” Nick released Rufus’s collar and the big Lab ambled along, apparently having given up on the cat.

“Rufus is loud,” Charlene agreed. “But I think the triplets outweigh him when it comes to the length of time they can sustain decibels at an earsplitting level.”

“That’s because there are three of them and they can pace themselves. Two can keep yelling while the third one breathes,” Nick argued. “Rufus has to stop barking to drag in air, and he doesn’t have a backup buddy to keep the sound going.”

“Who knew chaos could have such a logical analysis?” Charlene said, amused.

“I’m an analyst. It’s what I do.”

“And you apply the basics of your work to humans? And dogs,” she added belatedly when Rufus tugged on her leash.

“Sometimes,” Nick acknowledged.

She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but she knew there were laugh lines crinkling at the corners.

When they reached the corner coffee shop, Nick tied Rufus’s leash to a metal ring set into the wall. Charlene dropped into a chair at one of the little bistro tables, facing the triplets in their stroller.

“Are you okay here?” Nick asked, adjusting the sunshade atop the stroller seat to shade the triplets.

“Absolutely,” Charlene replied, laughing at Jessie as she tried unsuccessfully to grab a handful of Rufus’s tail.

“What do you want with your coffee?” he asked, grinning as Rufus managed to lick Jackie’s face.

“Surprise me.” Charlene eased the stroller out of the big dog’s reach. Nick disappeared into the shop just as both dog and babies grumbled their disapproval of their forced separation. “Here, you three, have some water.”

She handed each little girl a small sippy cup and they went silent, each sucking industriously on the opening in the lids.

“This is a healthy habit to develop, girls,” Charlene told them. “Drink lots of water—

it’s good for you. And don’t forget to eat lots of fruits and vegetables.”

Three pairs of bright blue eyes watched her, apparently entranced, totally absorbed in what she was saying.

This is the thing about babies, she thought as she smiled at them. They’re fascinated by adults. They pay attention. Too bad they outgrow it later on. A small blue sports car zipped past on the street, slowing to wedge into a parking space halfway down the block. A couple got out, doors slamming, and walked toward Charlene.

The sun was at their backs, making it difficult for her to see them clearly, but there was something very familiar about the man. He walked with his arm slung over the woman’s shoulders as they strolled nearer, apparently absorbed in each other and their conversation.

It wasn’t until they drew nearer that Charlene realized the man was Barry. Too late to run—and nowhere to hide. She knew precisely the moment when Barry recognized her, because he stopped abruptly, his jaw dropping in surprise.

“Charlene?”

“Hello, Barry,” she said coolly, laying a restraining hand on Rufus’s collar as he rose to his feet. A low growl rumbled in the dog’s throat, his stance protective. “It’s all right, Rufus,” she soothed.

Barry looked from the dog to the three little girls in the stroller, and then back at Charlene, clearly puzzled.

“I thought you were in Amarillo.”

“I was—for a day.”

“And now you’re back in Red Rock?”

“Obviously.”

“With a dog and three kids?” The disbelief coloring his tones was palpable. Since confirmation seemed unnecessary, Charlene looked at his companion and smiled. “Good morning.”

The blonde eyed Charlene with a distinctly antagonistic narrowing of her eyes before she looked back at Barry. He was still staring as if dumfounded at the girls in their stroller. “Good morning,” the blonde said finally, her tone cool but polite.

“Where did you get the kids?” Barry demanded.

“In Amarillo.”

He glared at her, clearly annoyed by the brevity of her response. She smiled back at him but didn’t elaborate.

“I think I deserve an explanation.” His voice held controlled impatience.

“Really?” she said coolly, lifting an eyebrow consideringly. “I can’t imagine why.”

Barry’s face turned a deeper shade of red. Before he could say anything further, the door to the coffee shop opened and Nick stepped out.

He set down two takeout cups of coffee and a bag on the tabletop. His eyes were still hidden behind the designer shades, but she knew with certainty that he’d swiftly assessed the situation. The two men couldn’t have provided a stronger contrast—Nick with his dark hair and eyes, black T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders and chest, faded jeans outlining the powerful muscles of thighs and long legs. Barry’s more slender frame seemed almost effeminate compared to Nick’s well-toned body, while his blond hair seemed washed out in the bright sunshine, his skin pale next to Nick’s California-sun-tanned features.

“I hope you like chocolate doughnuts,” Nick said, shifting so he stood on her left and slightly in front of her, effectively placing himself between her and Barry. The move was subtle but Barry clearly got the message. His face turned even ruddier and he fairly bristled at Nick.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Nick Fortune,” he said with easy confidence, smiling at the woman with Barry. Charlene had no trouble understanding why the blonde nearly melted into her hotpink flip-flops.

“Hello,” the woman breathed, clearly dazzled. “I’m Gwen.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gwen.” Nick smiled at her again and she batted her eyelashes, her smile widening.

Barry stiffened. The blonde met his angry stare with cool aplomb before she looked back at Nick, ran her fingers through her hair and swept it back over her shoulders.

Well, well, Charlene thought. Instantly annoyed at the flirtatious gesture, she glanced at Nick. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but he seemed to have missed the blonde’s invitation. He was turned toward Barry and his big body seemed to radiate menace.

Barry looked at Nick, his frown deepening.

“Fortune?” he said, unable to hide his disbelief. “Not one of the Fortune Foundation family?”

“Guilty, I’m afraid,” Nick said.

Gwen seemed to suddenly become aware of the tension in the air. She glanced uneasily at Charlene. Charlene shrugged to indicate she was staying out of what appeared to be a brewing storm.

The blonde frowned and clasped her hands around Barry’s arm, just above the elbow. “I’m dying for an ice cream, Barry.” Gwen tugged determinedly. “Let’s go in.”

“I don’t…” Barry began, resisting her urging as if he wanted to say more. The triplets had been surprisingly quiet during the exchange. Jessie chose that moment to bang her sippy cup on the stroller tray, interrupting Barry as she babbled imperiously. Charlene turned to the girls, and out of the corner of her eye saw Gwen draw Barry away. A moment later, she heard the bell on the shop door jingle.

“Well, that was interesting.” Nick dropped into the chair next to her and took the lid off one of the cups. He slid the other coffee across the small tabletop to her and opened the bag. He took out a doughnut and bit into it, waiting until Charlene finished calming Jenny and turned back to pick up her cup before he continued. “So, who was he?”

“My ex-fiancé,” she said calmly.

He paused, the doughnut halfway to his mouth, and stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” She frowned at him. “Why would you think I’m kidding about having an ex-fiancé? Do you find it impossible to believe that someone would want to marry me?”

“Hell, no.” He frowned back at her. “I’m just surprised you said yes—he looks like a jerk.”

“He’s not,” she denied. Then she considered her response and shrugged. “Okay, maybe he is kind of a jerk.”

She had the distinct impression that Nick was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“No kidding.” He finished his doughnut in one bite. “How long were you engaged?”

“We weren’t actually officially engaged. He never gave me a ring. But we were together for three years.”

“Three years, huh?” He took a drink of coffee and studied her over the cup rim.

“Where did you two meet?”

“In college.” She picked a doughnut from the bag and broke off a bite, popping it into her mouth.

“Let me guess—I bet he was in a drama class with you. Or was it a poetry class?”

She narrowed her eyes at him consideringly. “It was poetry. How did you know that’s where we met?”

“Just a wild guess. He looks like the kind of guy who’d pick up girls in poetry class.”

“He does?” Charlene considered Barry’s blond hair, classically handsome features, a frame that might be called lanky but never muscled, and narrow, scholarly hands, without a callus to be found on the smooth, soft skin. “Hmm, I think I see what you mean.”

“You said he was your ex-fiancé. What happened?”

“I suppose you could say we drifted apart in the years since college and grew to have different goals for our lives,” Charlene said slowly, thinking about his question. The breakup with Barry had been coming for months. Their final argument had followed weeks of escalating bickering over a variety of issues, including whether they should pool their money and buy a house. It had ended with her walking out, their relationship over.

She could hardly believe only a few weeks had passed since they’d officially parted ways. So much had been packed into the last week with Nick and the triplets that it seemed much longer.

She’d dreaded running into Barry. She’d been sure it would be an awkward, emotionally painful encounter. But in fact, she realized, she’d felt very little beyond mild regret and annoyance.

What did that say about the depth of their attachment? Had she really loved him—

or had they drifted into a relationship through sheer convenience and habit?

“When did you break up?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“So that’s why you were leaving Red Rock and flying to Amarillo?”

Charlene nodded. “I was going to stay with my mother while I found a new job and an apartment.”

She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, feeling a headache coming on.

“You okay?” Nick asked.

His words interrupted her reverie, yanking her back to the present. She immediately ceased rubbing her temples and picked up her coffee.

“Of course. I’m fine. What was I saying?” She paused to sip her coffee, gaining a moment to recall his earlier question. “Oh, yes—being engaged. Actually, becoming un-engaged.” She shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for couples to discover they’re not well-suited during a long engagement.”

“If you say so.” Nick looked at her over the rims of his sunglasses, his eyes intent.

“Three years is a long time to be engaged.”

“We wanted to establish our careers, save money for a house and so on.”

“Couldn’t you have done that after you were married?” His deep voice held a touch of derision.

“I suppose so, but it seemed wiser to wait until we were more settled.” She frowned at him. “I suppose you would have leaped straight into marriage?”

“Damned straight,” he said with emphasis. “If I cared enough about a woman to ask her to marry me, I wouldn’t be willing to put off the wedding for three years.”

“And if she wanted to wait, I’m suppose you’d toss her over your shoulder and haul her off to your cave?”

His mouth quirked and he laughed. “No, I’m not that much of a caveman—although I’d be tempted.” He stared at her for a moment. “Charlene,” he said bluntly, “your ex-fiancé is a fool. He should have hustled you off to the altar the day you said yes. I’d never make that mistake.”

Charlene felt her eyes widen. Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her rib cage. There was something about the intensity of his stare beneath lowered eyelids and the curve of his mouth that was more sensual than amused.

“I don’t…” she began. She had to pause and clear her throat, her voice husky with the effort to speak. She lost track of what she’d been going to say when his gaze shifted from her eyes to focus on her mouth, lingering there for a long moment. His lashes lifted and his gaze met hers. Charlene caught her breath. Focused male desire blazed in his eyes. She felt caught, unable to look away. Behind him, the door to the coffee shop burst open and a crowd of teenagers poured out onto the sidewalk. Their laughter and raised voices was boisterous and loud, but it wasn’t enough to break the web that Charlene felt spun out between her and Nick.

But then one of the boys bumped the back of Nick’s chair and he looked away from her, over his shoulder at the kid.

“Sorry.” The teenager raised his hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“No problem.” Nick’s voice was clipped.

When he turned back, his face was blank and Charlene could no longer read his eyes.

“Ready to go?” he asked, rising to take his cup and the empty doughnut bag to the trash can.

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