The Christmas Triplets

Frankly, daughterhood was no picnic, either. “Hello?” she said, pasting a smile on her face in an attempt to sound cheery and welcoming.

“I can’t believe you let a three-year-old answer the phone.”

“I’m sure Daisy thought she was being helpful. I was busy getting dinner ready.”

“Too busy to speak to your mother?”

Yes. The word hovered on her tongue, but Megan knew she’d never say it. The lasting drama of Beth Ann’s hurt feelings wouldn’t be worth the short-term satisfaction. “What do you need, Mom?”

“The chance to apologize, for starters. I never should have discouraged you from divorcing Spencer. That man is a no-good cheat.”

Megan blinked, stunned by her mother’s sudden about-face. After Spencer’s first affair, Beth Ann had defended her son-in-law, saying he’d acted rashly in his panic over impending fatherhood and had only succumbed to temptation because Megan was on bed rest and unavailable for “marital relations.” Wanting to believe his infidelity was a onetime mistake, Megan had agreed to stay with him on the condition that they see a therapist. But less than a year later, she’d caught him in another affair and left him. Her mother had argued vehemently, claiming Megan was insane to try to raise triplets by herself and that she would regret her decision.

Not as much as I would have regretted setting the example for my girls that it’s okay for a husband to be unfaithful.

And now, two years later, her mother was randomly offering her support? “I accept your apology,” she said cautiously.

“When I urged you to stay with him, I was only thinking of your well-being. I know how hard it is to raise a child alone.” Her own husband, a soldier, had been overseas for much of their marriage. Then, while Megan was in high school, he’d died of a heart attack in his sleep. “But your situation is different than mine. I was almost fifty when Jeremy left me widowed. You’re young enough to remarry.”

Ah. So that was why Beth Ann was suddenly okay with the divorce—she thought Megan should start searching for Spencer’s replacement. No, thank you. “I’m glad you’ve made your peace with the divorce.” She ignored the other half of what her mom said. “Maybe we can talk later in the week? If I don’t concentrate on the girls’ dinner, I may end up burning something.”

“If you were married, your husband could keep an eye on the stove long enough for you to chat with me.”

Yeah, there was great incentive to look for a man—more phone calls like this one. “Mom, I—” A discordant gonging sounded through the house, its warble reminding her that she needed to get her doorbell fixed. “There’s someone at the door.”

“Uh-huh.” Beth Ann’s skepticism was palpable. “Well, I’ll just call back at a more convenient time.”

By the time Megan set down the phone, Daisy was standing on her tiptoes at the baby gate, trying to get a glimpse of who might be outside, and Lily had dashed into the kitchen to cling to her mother. Meanwhile, Iris—very focused for a preschooler—remained on the kitchen floor and continued to color a picture.

Megan distracted anxious Lily with a sippy cup, then stepped over the gate to answer the door, fully expecting someone who would try to sell her lawn care or aluminum siding. Salesmen had a knack for always interrupting right at dinnertime. Still, whoever this person was, he had helped free her from a conversation with her mother, so she was prepared to be friendly as she sent him away. She opened the door, keeping the screen door shut between them, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of Will Trent, holding a ginormous bag and one seriously unhappy baby.

The red-faced infant bore little resemblance to the sleeping cherub she’d seen that afternoon, but she recognized the knit hat with the cute koala. Amy’s son. In certain circumstances, an attractive man holding a baby would be adorable. But since the baby was loudly broadcasting his displeasure and the man in question was Will Trent...

“Can we come in?” he asked.

Preferably not. “Where’s Amy?”

“Visiting an aunt. Tommy will be staying with me for a while.” His expression and stiff body language told her how much he resented the circumstances even before he muttered, “She didn’t give me much choice in the matter.”

Despite her earlier suspicions, Megan hadn’t wanted to believe he was the baby’s father. He was older and more worldly than that vulnerable young woman. Men were scum. Not all of them. She forcibly reminded herself of Jarrett Ross, who’d been so sweet with her daughters at the fall festival, and Sheriff Cole Trent, a man of integrity who clearly adored his fiancée. Unfortunately, Will’s resemblance to his brother seemed to be strictly physical.

“I could use a hand. Please, Megan.” It wasn’t his pleading tone that got to her, but the baby’s pitiful sobs. Tommy was running out of steam, his cries now more bewildered than furious. He seemed perplexed as to why his mother had left him with Will. Biological bond or not, there had to be better babysitters in Cupid’s Bow. Of course, after what Amy had said about expenses, maybe she couldn’t afford to hire one.

With a sigh, Megan opened the screen door. “Last night it was the car alarm during bedtime. Tonight you’ve caught us right at dinner. Maybe tomorrow you can park the fire truck outside the house with sirens blaring at bath time.”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Is that your way of saying that life next door to me is never boring?”

Refusing to be sucked in by his humor and aw-shucks charm, she reached for the baby. “When was the last time you fed him?”

“Technically, never.”

Her eyebrows shot skyward. “You’ve never helped Amy feed him?”

“Until today, I’ve barely even held him.” He said it without a trace of shame, reminding her of Spencer. For all that her ex claimed to love his daughters, he preferred absentee fathering, only seeing them on rare occasions like his upcoming holiday visit. He’d scheduled his own children for an early Christmas so that he could spend Christmas Day with his current girlfriend.

“But I’m a fast learner,” Will added. “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of this in no time.”

“Right, because parenting is such a piece of cake.” She snuggled the baby against her shoulder, feeling sorry for him. You deserve better.

“Well, obviously not. I—”

“Do you know when the last time he ate was?” she asked, reframing her original question.

“At least an hour or so?” His hesitant tone made it sound like a guess. “I wanted to put him in the car seat and look in his bag for formula, but the way he was thrashing around...”

From behind her, Daisy asked, “Who baby?”

Megan wasn’t sure if her daughter was inquiring who the baby was or who he belonged to. She pointed to Will, aware that it had been a long time since the girls had seen a man in the house. “This is Mr. Will, our neighbor, and this is Baby...?”

“Tommy,” Will supplied.

Daisy crinkled up her nose. “Tommy’s noisy.” She turned to pick up her own baby doll from the floor behind her and showed it to Will. “I have quiet baby.”

“You’re obviously better at this child-care gig than I am.” Will set the duffel bag down in the foyer and unzipped it. “Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.”

“Lesson number one,” Megan said, “feed the hungry baby.” Spotting a canister of formula and an empty bottle, she swatted Will’s hand out of her way. But she couldn’t make dinner for Tommy and feed her girls at the same time. “How are you with macaroni and cheese? Someone needs to get back to the stove, preferably before something catches fire.”

He grinned. “The good news is, in case of disaster, the fire department is already here.”

“Save the megawatt smile for someone who’s not immune and go check on the food. Daisy, can you show Mr. Will our kitchen?” She followed right behind them, making sure Lily didn’t panic at the sight of a stranger in the house. The last triplet to be born, Lily had been more timid than her sisters from day one; she also spoke less, struggling with many of her consonant sounds.

“There’s baked chicken in the oven,” Megan said. “Mitts are hanging on the wall behind the sink. And you need to stir the broccoli bits into the cheese—”

“Broccoli? In macaroni and cheese?” His expression was appalled, mirroring the grimace on Daisy’s small face. “Remind me never to have dinner here.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to issue any invitations.”

* * *

JACE WOULD BE so disappointed in me. Where was the fabled Trent Charm? Will should be falling all over himself thanking his neighbor, not criticizing her cooking decisions. It was none of his business if she wanted to screw up perfectly good mac and cheese with broccoli, but Will wasn’t at his best right now.

Obviously, he hadn’t adjusted to the shock of Amy leaving the baby with him, but it was more than that. He was flummoxed by Megan’s continued hostility. Save the megawatt smile for someone who’s not immune. No woman had ever snapped at him for smiling. It would be easy to assume the brunette was tart and hostile by nature—but she was working with Kate and Cole on the wedding and they both liked her. Amy had called her friendly.

He was curious enough that he almost asked about her “immunity” toward him, but he wouldn’t risk antagonizing her while she was giving him much-needed assistance with the baby. Instead, he turned his focus from Megan’s weird personality quirks to the kitchen surrounding him. Her counters were covered with far more supplies and appliances than his; he got by with a coffeemaker and microwave. And the room was a riot of color, from the plastic place mats on the table to the yellow curtains framing the kitchen window to the crayoned drawings displayed on the refrigerator with magnets. In fact, one of Daisy’s sisters was at his feet, coloring another sheet of paper, reminding him of his niece Alyssa, who was never without art supplies.

“Nice picture,” he said to the girl. There were several people-shaped blobs, one covered in red slashes. It reminded Will vaguely of a Mafia movie he’d once seen, but since this was December... “Santa Claus?”

The girl nodded happily.

Watching this exchange, Daisy suddenly declared, “I draw a picture, too!” She plopped on the floor and grabbed a crayon. Her sister shrieked in protest. Meanwhile, the other triplet watched from under the kitchen table, wide-eyed, as she sucked her thumb. As Megan restored peace and sent the girls to wash their hands, he hurried to the stove, hoping that cheesy pasta would soothe tempers.

Will couldn’t help noticing that even though Tommy still hadn’t been fed, Megan had done an enviable job soothing him. “He likes you. A lot more than he likes me.”

“Babies sense tension.” She scooped formula into a bottle. “When you showed up on my doorstep, you were practically rigid with panic. The more relaxed and calm you are, the more he will be.”

The uptight brunette was telling him to be more laid-back? “Maybe you should take some of your own advice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

What are you doing, dumb-ass? Charm had gone completely out the door. “Well, to tell the truth, you’re a little...prickly.”

“Just because I don’t fawn over a pair of broad shoulders and blue eyes—” In her arms, Tommy let out a cry. “Sorry, sweetie. Here you go.” Her tone switched to soft and crooning. Tommy lunged for the bottle and was making hearty slurping noises within seconds.

Keeping her voice low, Megan asked, “I don’t suppose you know how many ounces he normally takes?”

“No clue.”

“How much does he weigh?”

Doubting that “heavier than a sack of potatoes” was the answer she wanted, Will shrugged.

She sighed. “How old is he?”

He leaned down to get the baked chicken while doing some mental calculations. “Five months, give or take.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Her glare was hotter than the inside of the oven. “Were you even there when he was born?”

“Of course not. That would— Wait! You don’t think he’s mine?”

Megan blinked. “It seemed logical, since Amy left him with you. And given your—” her face went bright red “—social habits.”

Unreal. If it had been up to him, he’d be married right now—perhaps with an actual baby of his own on the way—but this near stranger had him painted as some sort of depraved sex addict. “Lady, you don’t know the first thing about me.” Unlike Donovan Anders, Will didn’t seduce nineteen-year-olds.

“I—” She was interrupted by her daughters rushing back into the room.

“Hands clean,” Daisy declared, the entire front of her long-sleeved shirt soaked with water.

Megan pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is really not my night.”

Will felt a wave of commiseration. “If it helps, I know exactly how you feel.”

“It doesn’t.” She met his gaze, giving him the first real smile he’d ever seen from her. “But thank you.”

Chapter Five

Although Megan would normally admonish Daisy to eat more and talk less, tonight she was grateful for her daughter’s chatty presence. Even Iris, excited about their outing to the town’s Christmas tree lighting tomorrow, contributed to the dinner conversation, helping mask what would’ve been an awkward silence between Megan and Will. I misjudged him. She needed to apologize for her rash assumption, but it seemed like bad parenting to discuss his sex life in front of the girls.

She’d invited Will to stay for dinner, partly as atonement and partly because she was reluctant to disturb the baby who’d fallen asleep against her shoulder. Holding him so long was an enjoyable novelty, his breath coming in soft puffs against her neck. When her own girls were babies, Megan had felt like a one-woman assembly line. Just as she got one of the triplets to doze off, another would need a diaper or bottle.

Will stood, picking up his plate as well as Iris’s empty one. He nodded toward Tommy before carrying the dishes to the sink. “The last thing I want to do is wake him and set him off again, but if I let him sleep now, what are the odds he’ll sleep for me tonight?” He paused, his expression alarmed. “Do five-or six-month-olds even sleep through the night?”

“They can.” At least, Megan thought so. The first year had been a blur. Her daughters had kept her so busy she’d barely had time to be heartbroken over the divorce. In retrospect, she could find blessings in the chaos. “But it’s hard to gauge how he’ll react to being in a strange place. Did the notebook say anything about his sleep schedule?” Midway through giving Tommy his bottle, Megan had asked Will to look in the duffel bag for a burp cloth. He’d found a tiny spiral notebook with information like the pediatrician’s phone number and feeding instructions.

“Not that I saw, but I need to read through it more closely.” He returned to the table, pausing by Daisy and raising his eyebrows in Megan’s direction.

Megan sighed. “Are you going to eat any more food?”

Daisy shook her head, her dark curls swishing. “Full.”

“I shouldn’t have given you that chocolate this afternoon.”

“Amy mentioned you were giving out chocolate,” Will said, reaching for Daisy’s dishes.

“It was originally intended for you.” Megan squirmed in her chair, fighting the urge to duck her gaze like a guilty child. “As a peace offering for how short-tempered I was last night.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful grin. “I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior, either. What do you say, neighbor? Fresh start?”

“I’d like that.” Especially since he was helping to clean her kitchen. That was more than fair compensation for her giving the baby a bottle and getting to snuggle him all through dinner. But since Lily would freak out if the tall, broad-shouldered man got too close, it was time for Megan to pitch in clearing the table. “All done?” she asked her daughter.

Lily nodded. She’d barely taken a bite, too busy watching their guest with a mixture of fascination and anxiety. Megan would put the kids’ leftovers in the fridge for lunch tomorrow. Cradling the baby against her with one hand, she took Lily’s plate and crossed the kitchen. Looking into the adjacent living room, at pint-size furniture and toys strewn across the carpet, she tried to think of anything the girls had outgrown that she could lend Will for the next couple of...days? Weeks? He hadn’t said when Amy was coming back, or why she had chosen him as Tommy’s caregiver in the meantime, and Megan hadn’t pressed for details in front of her daughters.

“Since you girls are all done eating, how about we put in that DVD we checked out from the library?” That would give her a few minutes to talk to Will without an audience. She found herself reluctantly curious about him. The last few months had given her an up close view of his social life, and she’d thought she understood him pretty well. But based on his patience with her daughters, his willingness to pitch in with dinner and the huge favor he was doing for Amy, maybe Megan had judged him too harshly. Not all men are Spencer.

True, but she’d been naive about her ex-husband, giving him the benefit of the doubt far more often than he deserved. It was a mistake she wouldn’t allow herself to repeat.

She went around the corner to get the DVD started. When she returned to the kitchen, Will was wiping down counters. “Thanks,” she said, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. I want to make sure I stay in your good graces for the next time I have a Tommy emergency.” He eyed the sleeping baby in her arms. “No matter how peaceful he looks now, I’m sure we’ll face plenty of challenges between now and when his mama gets back.”

“How long will Amy be gone?”

“I’m not sure.”

She recalled the young woman’s tear-streaked face. “Is she all right?”

He was slower to answer this time, the words softer. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re worried about her.” She studied his face, noting the concern in his dark blue eyes and feeling guilty for her assumptions about his selfish, carefree bachelor lifestyle.

“Yeah. She... No offense, but I probably shouldn’t be discussing the details of her personal life. Not that I know many of them. She and I aren’t nearly as close as you imagined.”

“Close enough that she trusts you with her child.” When he stiffened, she clarified, “I meant that as a compliment. I really am sorry I leaped to conclusions.”

“I guess, since she left the baby with me, I can understand why you’d think something so far-fetched. It never occurred to me anyone would make that mistake. Most everybody in town knows about her relationship with Donovan.” His voice was almost a snarl when he said the other man’s name. “I keep forgetting you’re new.”

She’d moved to Cupid’s Bow in January, practically a year ago. In a small town where most of the locals had lived here since birth, she still felt like an outsider. Raising three girls alone didn’t leave a lot of time for a thriving social life.

“What made you pick Cupid’s Bow?” he asked. “I mean, I love this town, but it’s a bit off the beaten path.”

“I needed a change after the divorce. I wanted to be someplace...” Where she didn’t feel ashamed of her failed marriage and where she wasn’t forced to wonder every time she spoke with a female acquaintance, Did Spencer sleep with you, too? She shook her head. “Before the girls were born, I worked at a botanical garden. I’ve always loved plants and flowers. I didn’t know Dagmar well before moving here, but she was my dad’s cousin. When she decided she wanted to cut back on her hours at the florist shop, she offered me a job. So here I am.”

“Just in time to do the arrangements for Cole and Kate’s wedding. You know she’s from Houston, right? Between the two of you and Sierra Bailey moving here, this is the closest thing to a population boom Cupid’s Bow has had since the 1800s.”

She laughed at the idea of a three-woman boom, and Tommy twisted in her arms, his eyelids fluttering. “Oops,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about waking him. I should get him back to my place anyway.”

“Where do you plan for him to sleep tonight? In the car seat? In bed with you?” There was no reason for her cheeks to heat at the mere mention of Will’s bed. But now that her attitude toward him had softened, it was a lot harder to ignore how attractive he was. Get a grip. A hot fireman cleaning your kitchen is no reason to go weak in the knees. Wait, actually, a hot fireman willing to clean was a pretty solid female fantasy. And here Will was, fantasy made flesh.

In a timely reminder that real life was not fantasy, a rude odor began wafting toward her from the general vicinity of the baby’s rear end.

“Amy left some kind of playpen,” Will said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her eyes were starting to water. “I just have to figure out how to assemble it. Then little man can crash in my room with me. I want to be close in case he needs me—not that I’ll necessarily know how to help him. I’ve never even changed a diaper.”

She thrust Tommy toward him. “You’re in luck.”

Will’s nose wrinkled. “That does not smell like luck.”

* * *

WILL COULDN’T REMEMBER the last day he’d had that was so full of surprises. The noxious diaper was an unpleasant surprise; he really could have used a fireman’s mask and self-contained oxygen. But Megan finally grinning at him, after months of guarded glances and sharp tones, almost made up for it. As he knelt over the baby, her eyes danced with amusement.

“Good thing I’m a badass with no insecurities,” he deadpanned, “or all your laughing at me could be highly damaging to the ego.”

Working together, they’d cleaned Tommy up, but Will had insisted he needed the practice of putting on the new diaper alone. That was proving more difficult than expected. At least the girls had fled the room, protesting the smell. He could just imagine Daisy showing him her properly diapered baby doll and shaking her head at his incompetence.

Now that Tommy was fed and rested, he appeared to think it was playtime. He kept rolling onto his hands and knees, as if to crawl away. Will’s challenge was to keep the baby pinned in place without inadvertently hurting him. “I never realized how big my hands are.” They looked massive against Tommy’s small limbs.

“It can’t be that much of a surprise. You’re hu...” When she trailed off, he glanced over his shoulder and caught her studying him. “I mean, you’re even taller than your brothers.”

True. He’d towered over his mother by the time he was in middle school. Did Megan like tall men?

He blinked at the errant thought. I don’t care what kind of man she finds attractive. Until tonight, they’d barely exchanged a civil word. He sure as hell wouldn’t be asking her out.

“Okay.” He sat back on his heels. “I think that’ll hold. You’re free to flip over on your tummy all you want, little man.” Tommy did exactly that, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees. He rocked back and forth, not exactly moving forward but gaining impressive momentum. Will watched with concern. “You don’t think he can actually crawl, do you?”

Real mobility probably required some kind of baby-proofing. Megan’s living room had safety covers in the outlets and gates in the doorways. When she’d unlocked a series of gates for the girls earlier, he was reminded of the weekends he helped on his friend Brody’s ranch, herding cows through pens into the chute. But he’d refrained from comparing Megan’s daughters to cattle out loud.

She was watching the baby’s movements. “Doesn’t look like he’s crawling yet, but it won’t be long. And I warn you, once it happens, they move faster than you’d expect.”

Fantastic. Amy, you’d better get back to Cupid’s Bow soon. More terrifying than anything else—even toxic diapers—was the open-endedness of the situation. He’d been sincere about wanting to help Amy, but he couldn’t keep a baby indefinitely.

What were his other options? He couldn’t stomach the thought of handing over the infant to Donovan or, after reading Amy’s letter, her mother. And calling social services would feel like a total betrayal. So, for now, he’d be patient and take his unexpected guardianship one day at a time.