Triplets For The Texan

“I see.” It was easy for the doctor to say don’t worry. She wasn’t the one carrying three brand-new lives.

Soon after that sobering conversation, Simone was back outside staring around in a daze at the nicely landscaped grounds of the hospital. Triplets. No matter how many times she repeated the word in her head, it didn’t seem real. She’d had daydreams about pushing a stylish stroller with a tiny infant dressed in pink or blue. It was hard to fathom the reality of taking three babies out on the town.

She sat in her car for the longest time, telling herself everything was going to be okay. Her initial motives in getting pregnant had been less than pure. Was the universe punishing her for playing around with motherhood?

Despite evidence to the contrary, she was stunned to realize that she wanted these babies desperately. Not one of them, or two...but all three. Placing her palm flat on her abdomen, she tried to imagine what she was going to look like in a few months. With triplets, she could be huge.

Oddly, the thought wasn’t as alarming as it should have been. For a woman who wore haute couture as a matter of course and worked hard to keep her body in shape, the fact that she was able to imagine herself as big as a blimp without hyperventilating showed personal growth.

At least that’s what she told herself.

It was getting late. She was supposed to be at Naomi’s condo in less than an hour. Naomi and Cecelia were making their signature jalapeño and shredded beef pizza. Normally, Simone gobbled down at least three pieces. How was she going to make it through the evening when the thought of food made her want to barf?

As she drove to the other side of town, she practiced what she was going to say. By the way, I haven’t had sex in months, but I’m pregnant with triplets. Or how about I ran into Hutch last week. I don’t think I ever got over him.

Already she was reconsidering her decision to keep Naomi and Cecelia in the dark. This was too hard to do alone. She needed someone to talk to...someone who would have her back. If she couldn’t confide in her two best friends, she couldn’t confide in anybody. Naomi and Cecelia had been her closest companions and confidantes since grade school. Still, she wasn’t ready to spill all her secrets at once. She needed time to wrap her head around things. It was happening too fast.

As Simone entered her code on a keypad and rolled through the elegant gate, she noted the perfectly manicured grounds of the luxury condo complex. Naomi’s privacy was protected here. Naomi Price was famous in Royal for any number of reasons. Her cable television show had been picked up nationally, so now she was dispensing style advice to women—and men—coast to coast.

Simone parked and walked up the path. When she rang the buzzer, Cecelia answered the door. “It’s about time. Where have you been?”

Clearly, the question was rhetorical, because Cecelia disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Simone to put a hand over her mouth and gag at the smell of cooking meat. Oh, lordy. She fished a water bottle from the depths of her leather tote and took a cautious sip. If she wasn’t ready to talk about the babies, she had to get her stomach under control. Otherwise, her secret wasn’t going to be a secret for very long.

Gingerly, she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. The room wasn’t huge, but it was as stylish as the woman who hovered over the stove. Naomi had brown eyes and long copper-brown hair. She was charming and extremely pretty, but Simone knew her friend didn’t understand how beautiful she was.

Cecelia, on the other hand, had bombshell looks and knew how to use them. Her platinum hair and long legs drew men in droves. Her company, To the Moon, produced high-end children’s merchandise but had recently branched out to the adult furniture realm with the launch of Luna Fine Furnishings. Simone and her ad agency were currently producing a hard-hitting campaign designed to take Cecelia’s company to the next level.

The other two women barely said hello at first. They were squabbling over the correct ratio of peppers to meat. At last, Naomi looked up. “Hey, hon. What’s the matter with you? I’ve seen ghosts with more color.”

That was the thing about good friends. They didn’t sugarcoat things. “Just an upset stomach,” Simone said. “I think I ate too much at lunch.” Fortunately, meal prep took precedence and no one called her on the lie.

Normally, Simone would have offered to help, but right now she stayed as far away from the food as possible. When the large pizza was in the oven, the three women adjourned to the living room. Simone envied Naomi’s innate sense of style. Her home was stunning but extremely comfortable.

Simone claimed a comfy chair and sat down gingerly. She’d always heard about morning sickness, but she had never imagined how wretched it could be. Tucking her legs beneath her, she tried to get comfortable.

Cecelia, on the other hand, hovered by the window. She was always a high-energy person. Today she practically vibrated with excitement.

Naomi took a sip of her Chardonnay and waved a hand. “What’s up, Cecelia? You said we had to wait for Simone. She’s here now. Don’t keep us in suspense.”

The tall blonde spun around, fumbled in her pocket and held out her hand. “Deacon proposed! And I’m pregnant.”

After that dual announcement, much squealing ensued. Simone and Naomi hugged their friend and admired the ring. Deacon Chase was quite a catch. He’d lived in Europe for a decade, but had returned to Royal and purchased a beautiful country lodge on the outskirts of town. The gorgeous, self-made billionaire hotelier had confidence and charisma and a dimpled smile that broke hearts everywhere. As far as Simone was concerned, he was one of the few men alive who could handle Cecelia and not be intimidated by her looks and personality.

Clearly, now was not the time for Simone to share her own news. For one, she didn’t want to steal Cecelia’s thunder.

When the furor died down, they adjourned to the kitchen and dug into the freshly baked pizza. Simone’s stomach cooperated enough for her to get down most of one piece, though she surreptitiously removed the jalapeños and wrapped them in a paper napkin. No point in tempting fate.

“So who’s your doctor?” Simone asked. Please don’t let it be Hutch.

“I’m seeing Janine Fetter. She’s not real chatty or friendly, but I don’t need that in a doctor. I want someone I can trust to take care of me and my baby. Dr. Fetter fits the bill.”

Naomi shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. This means we’ll have to plan a baby shower.”

Cecelia laughed. “Give it time. I’m still in my first trimester. Plenty of opportunity for that. Deacon and I are going to keep the news to ourselves for a while, but he knew I would have to tell you two.”

“Well, I should think so,” Naomi said. “We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”

Simone grimaced inwardly. The trio’s tight friendship had backfired in Royal at times. Some people referred to them as the mean girls. The label wasn’t fair. They weren’t mean. But when three women were extremely successful, attractive and high-profile, there were bound to be those who took potshots. The criticism had sharpened after Naomi, Cecelia and Simone had been admitted into the Texas Cattleman’s Club.

Some diehards still thought women should be kept out. And somebody had started the rumor that Naomi, Cecelia and Simone could be behind the malicious blackmail messages various residents of Royal had been receiving via social media.

It wasn’t true. Even Cecelia had received one of the blackmailer’s threats. Simone, too, though she hadn’t told anyone.

Later that evening as Simone drove home, she struggled with feelings of envy. Cecelia had a baby on the way and a wedding to plan. That meant Cecelia’s situation was cause for celebration. Simone, on the other hand, was pregnant with triplets whose biological father was an unknown sperm donor.

Lots of people used sperm donors in situations of infertility. But those were loving couples who made a joint decision and were excited about the chance to bring a child into their home.

Simone had done it selfishly because of her grandfather’s stupid, archaic will. Blinking back tears, she clutched the steering wheel and apologized to the three tiny sparks of life in her womb. “I swear I’ll be a good mom,” she whispered. “I would take it all back if I could, but now you’re on the way, and I want to keep you. You’ll find out soon enough that grown-ups make mistakes. Me, in particular.”

It would have been nice to have someone say, “There, there, Simone. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everything will work out for the best. You’ll see.” Unfortunately, unless she confided in Naomi and Cecelia, no one in Royal was likely to fulfill the role of pep squad. She’d have to be her own cheerleader. First order of business would be enjoying a relaxing evening at home.

Her house was welcoming and warm, but in a whole different way than Naomi’s. After the ad agency landed its third big client, Simone had moved out of her bland apartment and purchased a five-acre estate in Pine Valley. The place was ridiculously large for one person, but she loved it.

At least she would have plenty of room for a live-in nanny. Or maybe two. Triplets! How would she ever manage?

When she made the turn from the main road onto her property, she noted with pride the way the flowering cherry trees lined the driveway. When the wind blew, tiny white petals fluttered down like snow. Spring in Royal, Texas, was her favorite time of year.

It was a surprise to see a black SUV parked on the curving flagstone apron at her front door. An even bigger shock was the man who stepped out to face her. Not bothering to put her small sports car in the garage, she slammed on the brakes and slid out from behind the wheel. “What are you doing here, Hutch?”

She hated the way her heart jumped when she saw him. Even without three babies on the way, she shouldn’t get involved again. Given the current situation, it would be emotional suicide to think she had any kind of chance with the good doctor.

In his muscular arms he held a medium-sized box. “I brought you some books from my medical library. I remembered how you like to research things on your own, so I thought you could take a look at these. Plenty of stuff here about multiple births, both from a medical standpoint and from a practical parenting aspect.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Simone said. “Do you offer this kind of service to all your patients?”

His lips quirked in a reluctant smile. “You’re not my patient, remember?”

“True.” She wasn’t exactly sure what the protocol was here. In any case, she couldn’t leave the man standing outside. “Would you like to come in for some iced tea or a cola?”

“Decaf coffee?” he asked hopefully.

“That, too.”

“I’m in.”

She unlocked the front door and tossed her keys on a table in the foyer. Hutch set the box on a chair and looked around with interest. “I like your house,” he said. “It looks like you.”

Simone made her way to the kitchen, painfully aware that he followed closely at her heels. “How so?” She opened the refrigerator to cool her hot face and to hide for a moment. Her heart raced at a crazy tempo.

“Modern. Stylish. Simple. Sophisticated.”

Wow. Was that really how he saw her? While she put the coffee on to brew, Hutch perched on a stool at the bar. “Thank you,” she muttered. Was he thinking about all the money she had spent while he was caring for sick babies in terrible poverty? Was his compliment actually a veiled criticism?

Maybe she was reading too much into a casual comment.

“Where will you live now that you’re back?” she asked. “Somewhere near the hospital?”

“Actually,” he said with a weary grin, “I’m going to be your neighbor. I’ll be closing on the brick colonial down the road soon.”

“Oh.” She knew the house well. It was less than half a mile from her place. Was that a coincidence?

Hutch shrugged. “I’m too old for bachelor digs. I wanted to put down roots.”

“No more Doctors Without Borders?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a young man’s game. I gave it more than five years of my life. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, but it was time to come home.”

“I’m sure your parents are delighted.” Hutch’s mother and father were both lawyers. They had raised their son to believe he could be or do anything he wanted. Hutch had excelled all the way through school, despite the occasional run-ins with bullies.

“They were over the moon when they heard.”

“Must be nice. My mom and dad drop by only when they want to lecture me about something. Of course, you probably remember that.” Her parents had been none too thrilled about their only daughter dating someone they hadn’t handpicked for her. Neither Hutch nor Simone had let the veiled disapproval dissuade them.

Remembering the passionate affair and its inevitable end was something Simone managed to avoid. Mostly. But with Hutch in her kitchen, the memories came crashing back.

The two of them had met at a party at the Cattleman’s Club. Simone had been barely twenty-two and ready to fall in love. The town had thought she was promiscuous—still did—but that was a facade she hid behind. If people wanted to look down their noses at her, she wasn’t going to stop them.

Being introduced to Troy Hutchinson by a mutual acquaintance had been kismet. The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew he was the one. Though he was ridiculously handsome, it was his quiet, steady intelligence that drew her in. Hutch was no callow boy looking for an easy lay.

He had talked to her, listened to her opinions. Danced with her. Laughed at her jokes. And in a secluded corner outside the club, he had kissed her. Even now she could remember everything about that magical moment. The way he smelled of lime and starched cotton. The sensation of feeling small and protected, though she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He was taller than she was and extremely fit, which made sense, of course, for someone who had devoted himself to the pursuit of medicine.

“Simone? Hello in there...”

Suddenly he was standing in front of her, his smile quizzical. “You’ve been stirring that cup of coffee for a long time.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. Did he know what she was thinking? Could he read her mind?

“Here,” she said. “I fixed it the way you like it. Strong enough to peel paint and enough sugar to give you cavities.”

He took the cup and sipped slowly, his eyes closing in bliss. “Now this is good coffee. Might even compete with the real stuff in Africa.”

“I’m sure not everything was great. As I recall, you were a meat-and-potatoes guy, too. Not much prime beef where you were, I’d say.”

“You’re right, of course. I lost twenty pounds after I arrived in Sudan and never quite gained it back.”

“Let’s take our drinks into the den.” She grabbed a package of cookies out of the cabinet and led the way. Hutch chose a wing-backed chair near the dormant fireplace. Simone claimed one end of the sofa.

He sat back with a sigh, balancing his cup on his flat abdomen. “You’ve done well for yourself, Simone. I’m proud of you. Everyone in town sings your praises—well, your ad agency’s praises,” he clarified.

“That might be a stretch, but thanks. Hard work and a dollop of luck.”

“I always knew you’d make your mark in Royal.”

She frowned. Her ambition had been partly the cause of their breakup, but not from her perspective. She hadn’t wanted to stand in the way of Hutch’s dreams. When he’d offered to wait on Africa until her agency was established, she had insisted he should go. Hutch read that as a rejection. He thought she cared more about her business and money than about him. Stupid man.

Still, that was a long time ago.

For several long minutes they drank their coffee in silence. She was tired and queasy and sad. Seeing Hutch again was a painful reminder of how many times in her life she had made mistakes.

Would she ever learn?

At last, the silence became unbearable. She set her cup on a side table. “I think you should go now,” she said. “I don’t feel very well. I’d like to rest. And if I’m being honest, I’d rather not have people see your car in front of my house.”

Three

Hutch grimaced. Her words stung, even though they gave him an easy out.

He had told himself he was indifferent to Simone now, but in his gut he knew the truth. The first moment he laid eyes on her in that exam room a week ago, he’d felt the same dizzying punch of desire he’d always experienced when he was with her.

Panic swept through him like a sickening deluge. He couldn’t do that again. Not after what had happened in Sudan. It was better that Simone knew the score.

She lost patience with his lack of verbal response. “If you have something to say, say it. I’ve had a long, stressful day, and I want to take a bath and get into bed.”

I’d like to join you... His subconscious was honest and uncomfortable.

The dark shadows beneath her beautiful eyes reminded him she was in a fragile state, both mentally and physically.

The fact that he wanted so badly to hold her told him he had to protect himself.

He stood and paced, his hands jammed in his pockets. “I understand why you want me to move my car. Now that I’m back in town and we’re both still single, the gossip mill will undoubtedly have us hooking up any day now. People may even say your triplets are mine.”

Simone swallowed visibly. “Gossip isn’t reality.”

“Maybe not. But I have to be up front with you. I’m not willing to get involved in a relationship.”

She was pale and silent, her sapphire-eyed stare judging him. “I don’t recall asking you to. But to clarify, is your distaste for romance because of our past?”

“Not entirely. I fell in love with a fellow doctor while I was in Sudan. Her name was Bethany.”

For a split second, he could swear he saw anguish in Simone’s eyes. But if it was there, she recovered quickly.

“You said was? Past tense?”

He nodded jerkily. “She died two years ago. Cut her foot on a rock. Doctors make the worst patients, you know. She didn’t tell any of us how serious it was. Ended up with sepsis. I couldn’t save her.” Even now the memory sickened him.

Simone leaned forward. “I am so sorry, Hutch.”

Her sympathy should have soothed him. Instead, it made him feel guilty. “I’ll always be fond of you, Simone...and I’ll care about you. But I need you to know that’s all it will be.”

She blinked. “I see.”

“I suppose you think I’m assuming a hell of a lot to think you would even be interested after all this time.”

“Not at all. You’re a gorgeous man. With a kind heart. I’m sure I won’t be the only woman in Royal who appreciates your sterling qualities.”

“Aw, hell. You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little.” She smiled gently. “Six months ago your virtue might have been in danger. But now I have three babies to consider. Their welfare has to come before anything else in my life.”

“Even romance?”

“Especially romance.”

“Then I guess we’ve cleared the air.”

“I guess we have.”

“I should go,” he said. But he didn’t move.

Simone stood up, swaying a bit before she steadied herself with a hand on the back of the chair. “Yes, you should.”

Squaring his shoulders, he nodded. The urge to kiss her was overpowering.

She kept a hand on the chair, either because she felt faint or because she intended to use it as a shield. Either way, it didn’t matter. He wanted to taste her more than he wanted his next breath.

He put his hands on her shoulders, noting the tension there. She wasn’t wearing shoes, so the difference in their heights was magnified. Winnowing his fingers through her hair, he sighed. “I should have come home a year ago. Then maybe I could have talked you out of this single-mom idea.”

“Not your business, Doc.”

It was as easy as falling into a dream. He had loved Bethany, deeply and truly. And grieved her passing. But this thing with Simone was something else. Did he dare explore the possibilities?

Slowly, he moved his lips over hers, waiting for the protest that never came. She tasted of coffee and wonderful familiarity. But not comfort. Never comfort. There was too much heat. Too much yearning. When she went up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, he groaned. Five years. Almost six. Gone in a flash.

He ran his hands over her back and landed on her bottom. She was thinner, but every bit as soft and appealing as she had ever been. Before he left for Sudan, when they were alone together, Simone had been unguarded...innocent. A far cry from the woman who tilted her chin and dared the world to disrespect her.

Every beat of his heart was magnified. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear...nipped her earlobe with his teeth. Simone did nothing to stop him. In fact, she didn’t even try to hide the fact that she wanted him. Temptation sank its teeth into his gut and didn’t let go. He was hard as a pike. The sofa was close by. Damn. How could he still want her so badly? No. This had to stop. Now.

Dragging in great gulps of air, he broke free of the embrace, stumbled backward and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Does it make you happy to know I still want you?” he snarled. He felt like a fool.

Simone’s expression was gaunt and defeated. “Not happy at all, Hutch. But message received. You have nothing to fear from me. I’d appreciate it if you would let yourself out.”

* * *

She waited until she heard the front door slam before bursting into tears. Sliding down the wall and curling up in a knot of misery on the hallway floor, she cried ugly, wretched sobs that left her throat raw and her chest hollow.

She knew her hormones were all over the map, but it was more than that. Hutch might as well still be in Africa. The gulf between them was so deep and so wide, it was doubtful they could ever even manage to be friends. Yet the same incendiary attraction that had drawn them to each other in the beginning still existed.

The sensation of being wrapped in his strong arms...of feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek...of knowing he wanted her as much as she wanted him brought back such crazy joy. Never in her life had she felt as happy or free as she had when she and Hutch were a couple.

What he said was true. If he had come home six months ago, she would never have embarked on this path of insanity. She’d been angry at her dead grandfather and determined to prove she was worthy of carrying on the family name. It had never been about the money, but more about legitimacy, a sense of belonging.

Now it was too late for second thoughts. The babies were a reality.

Stumbling to her bathroom, she washed her face and sprawled on the bed. She was hungry again, but it was a weird hunger. Beneath the pangs of an empty stomach rolled a sensation of nausea in the offing.

Finally, at midnight, she dragged herself out of bed and went to the kitchen in search of a snack. Milk seemed like a bad idea. Ditto for cheese or yogurt. Craving something salty, she found half a bag of stale, plain potato chips. She gobbled two handfuls and washed them down with ginger ale.

Her hunger appeased, she went back to bed only to jump up twenty minutes later and rush for the bathroom. She threw up violently, so hard that her ribs ached. Even rinsing out her mouth made her stomach heave.

Groaning, she found a damp cloth and pressed it to her forehead. The notion that she might have to endure weeks of this misery pointed out once again how foolish she had been. I’m sorry, she said silently to the three lives she carried.

No matter what sacrifices it demanded, she would make sure this was a healthy pregnancy.

The following morning was no better. Dry cereal and water came right back up as soon as they went down. Her hands began to cramp, signaling possible dehydration. Doggedly, she sipped from a water bottle and forced herself to put on the same dress pants from the day before but with a different top. She couldn’t simply stay home because she felt bad. She had a business to run...a business that would soon support three tiny infants.