And Babies Make Five / At Long Last, a Bride: And Babies Make Five

Had he?

As she’d turned away from the fogging glass, she wondered if he’d struggled with the same urge she’d had, if he’d felt compelled to take one last look at her, too.

Then she’d scolded herself for having such a wild and crazy thought. How could a man like that be attracted to a pregnant woman?

He’d probably just felt her eyes on his back and looked over his shoulder. Or maybe he’d heard a sound, a branch falling or something.

Either way, she had no business thinking about any man in that way, let alone a handsome and successful attorney who would be considered an eligible bachelor by any woman with a pair of eyes and good sense.

Her only focus in the world right now should be in creating a home for the triplets. So with that in mind, she’d shut herself in for the night.

She’d read for a while, then went to bed, where she slept fairly well, considering she was alone in a house that seemed to have more than its fair share of creaks and groans. Placing an extra pillow over her head had helped some.

In the morning, she’d had fruit, yogurt and granola for breakfast, then spent the bulk of her day going though closets and boxing up Peter’s clothes and belongings, as well as the other things she no longer needed or wanted. She’d stacked the boxes along the far wall of the garage before she’d filled them. She would have to make arrangements for the Salvation Army or another charity organization to pick them up next week.

But even though she’d been careful not to lift anything heavy, her efforts had caused a slight muscle twinge in her lower back.

It was nearly four when she slipped off to The Green Grocer to stock up on all the things she would need to run a household. And when she returned, her car was loaded down with groceries, paper goods and cleaning supplies.

As she slid out from behind the steering wheel, she decided that her back felt better, but it still nagged at her. So she again massaged the pesky muscle. Then she circled the car, opened the trunk and surveyed her many purchases, which had been packed lightly into bright yellow reusable canvas shopping totes with The Green Grocer logo.

Before she could reach inside for the first bag, Hector drove up and parked in his driveway. She waved, and he headed her way.

He was wearing gym shorts and a Harvard Law School T-shirt, which appeared to be damp from a workout. She couldn’t help noting that he was toned and buff. His hair was mussed in an appealing way, and she found it difficult not to stare at him. But she’d already been caught gawking at him once, so she wasn’t about to let him see her doing it again.

“Here,” he said as he approached. “Let me carry those for you.”

She really ought to shoo him off, to tell him she could take in the groceries by herself, yet it was nice that he’d offered to help, and since her back was only feeling marginally better, she decided to take him up on it. “Thanks, Hector. I’d appreciate that.”

“No problem.” He made easy work of the chore, taking several totes at a time, and before she knew it, he’d brought them all into the kitchen and placed them on the table, as well as the countertop.

“You sure have a lot of those reusable shopping bags,” he said.

She’d had to purchase more than she’d probably ever use again, just to restock her pantry and cupboards. “I’ve got a few I can spare, if you would like to have them.”

“I guess it’s better than using the plastic sacks they provide at the store. So, yes, I could probably use one or two.”

“Don’t you recycle?”

“I would, but I don’t do a lot of shopping. I eat most of my meals out.”

Did that translate into: I date a lot? Or did that mean he was so caught up with work at the office and meetings he had to attend that he didn’t have the time or the inclination to prepare meals at home?

Either way, she supposed it wasn’t any of her business.

As she reached into one of the two bags that contained her frozen food, Hector did, too, and their hands grazed each other. She jerked back, more from the sizzle of his touch than the surprise of it.

“Whoops,” he said, tossing her a smile. “It looks like we were both thinking the same thing.”

That the frozen food needed to be put away before it thawed?

Or that that they were fated to catch each other’s eye repeatedly, and drawn to touch?

Hector took several packages of vegetables to the freezer and put them away.

Samantha peeked into yet another tote bag, pulled out a loaf of wheat bread and placed it in the pantry.

After Peter died and she’d gone to stay with her mom, she’d paid someone to go into the kitchen, to empty the cupboards and donate the canned food and the dry goods to a local soup kitchen. So the shelves had been bare for years. But just last week, when the cleaning crew had been here, she’d asked them to wash all the dishes and wipe down the entire kitchen prior to her arrival.

She found herself actually looking forward to filling the shelves. Maybe a growing urge to nest was a side effect of her pregnancy. It made sense.

While closing the pantry door, she stopped to rub the small of her back, which was still a little tender. She suspected her pregnancy and her growing girth made her think about every little ache or pain more than she otherwise might.

Still, in hindsight, she probably should have asked the cleaning crew to pack up Peter’s belongings and haul them all out to the garage, too. But she hadn’t liked the idea of a stranger digging in her closets and drawers and sorting through all of the personal items.

Yet even though the house and furniture were familiar, she felt a little … uneasy about being back on Primrose Lane. So much had changed.

“What’s the matter?” Hector asked.

She offered him an unaffected smile as she removed her hand from her back. “Nothing.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.

“Not really. I was just shuffling a few boxes earlier and might have strained a muscle. It’s actually feeling better now.”

His expression grew concerned. “You shouldn’t have moved things around in your condition.”

No, she probably shouldn’t have. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Sit down,” he told her. “I’ll put away the rest of this stuff.”

For some reason, she didn’t object. Instead, she took a seat at the table and watched him put the groceries and cleaning supplies where they belonged, instructing him whenever he asked—and sometimes even when he didn’t. She hated to admit it, but she’d always been a little fussy about her kitchen.

He pulled out a small container of cinnamon, as well as the nutmeg and sea salt, and headed for the pantry.

“No, not in there,” she said. “I put the herbs and spices in the cupboard to the right of the stove. I like having them handy when I cook.”

His movements slowed as he turned to face her, and his head tilted to the side. “You’re not planning to cook tonight, are you?”

“I was. But I’ll probably just fix a bowl of cereal—something light and easy.” She really didn’t need anyone to tell her she might have overdone things earlier today.

“I’ve got an idea.” His eyes, a pretty golden brown shade, brightened, and he tossed her a crooked smile. “I’ll take you out tonight. There’s a new bistro down on the corner of Fourth and Highland that I’ve been meaning to try. And I hate eating alone.”

So he did have a lot of dates. She meant to tell him no thanks, which was the wisest thing to do. Yet she was giving his invitation a lot more thought than she should have. Although that was probably because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually gone out, been waited on and pampered since her return from Europe.

“Come on,” he said. “You’d like something tastier than cereal tonight, wouldn’t you?”

Actually, she would. But did she really want to have dinner with him again? At a restaurant?

She should have made an excuse, told him that she preferred having a bowl of the Raisin Bran she’d just bought, but for some strange reason—loneliness, boredom or something else altogether?—she agreed. “When do you want to go?”

“I just got back from the gym, so I’ll need a shower. But it won’t take me long. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Unless you need longer than that.”

“Give me twenty, okay?”

“You’ve got it.” He tossed her a boyish grin, and her heart tumbled in her chest.

Uh-oh. She needed to get a grip. He was just being friendly and extending a neighborly gesture.

Or was he?

The next thing she knew, she was heading for the closet to find an outfit to wear. Then she would jump in the shower and put on fresh makeup. She probably ought to shampoo her hair, but she’d said twenty minutes, and she hated to make him wait on her.

Besides, going out with Hector was no big deal, she told herself on the way upstairs. It was just two neighbors trying a new restaurant in town.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that this seemed to be a whole lot more than that.

For some crazy reason, it felt way too much like a date.

Chapter Three

Hector couldn’t believe he’d asked his pregnant neighbor out to dinner, but at the time he’d made the offer, it had seemed like a natural thing to do.

His sister, Yolanda, had told him about The Old World Bistro, saying that she and her husband had really enjoyed it and recommending it highly. So he’d planned to check it out, anyway. It didn’t seem to be the kind of place he’d want to dine alone, so he’d asked Samantha to come along.

Now, after showering, splashing on a dab of aftershave and slipping on a pair of black slacks, a white button-down shirt and a sports jacket, he was heading over to Samantha’s house to pick her up.

The storm had finally passed by, leaving the lawns and grounds wet, but as he walked next door, he savored the earthy, after-the-rain scent that clung to the plants and shrubs.

When he reached her stoop, he rang the bell and waited for her to answer. She was an attractive woman, so he’d expected that she would look nice when she swung open the door. But he hadn’t been prepared to come face-to-face with a beautiful, statuesque blonde who could put Katherine Heigl, his favorite Grey’s Anatomy actress, to shame.

She’d pulled her hair up into a twist, revealing pearl studs in her ears. And she’d applied a light coat of mascara that emphasized the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Expressive eyes that boasted a warmth he rarely saw in people these days.

The adolescent in him wanted to utter “Wow …” but the man in him bit his tongue.

Had a woman ever appealed to him more?

He couldn’t help scanning the length of her, completely forgetting she was pregnant until he noticed how her classic black dress fit snugly over her baby bump. Yet he still found her as sexy as hell.

But he’d be damned if he’d ogle her any more than he probably already had.

“You’re ready,” he said, making light of it all.

Her lips, which bore a pretty shade of pink lipstick, parted, and she glanced at her bangle watch. “You said twenty minutes …?”

Yes, he had. But he’d never known a woman who could pull off getting dressed within the time allotted, especially when it appeared as though she’d been fussing in front of the bathroom mirror for hours.

“You look great,” he said.

“Thanks.” Her face lit up, as if she hadn’t been complimented in ages and had taken it to heart. Then she reached for her purse, which had been sitting by the door on an entryway table, locked up the house and walked with him to his car.

The soles of their shoes—his Italian leather loafers and her sling-back heels—clicked upon the sidewalk and echoed in the evening air, which was clean and fragrant after the rain.

Her shoulder brushed his upper arm, setting off a rush of hormones in his blood, and he had the strangest compulsion to take her hand in his. He didn’t, though, and the fact that he’d wanted to made him realize he might have made a big mistake by asking her out to dinner.

But there was no way to backpedal now, so he shook it off, determined to enjoy a casual, carefree evening with his neighbor—even if he wasn’t feeling the least bit neighborly.

Once inside his car, he stole a glance at her, saw her profile as she glanced out the passenger window.

Damn, she looked good sitting across the console from him.

Nevertheless, he turned on the ignition, started the car and backed out of the driveway.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the bistro. He parked at the curb, just two shops down from the entrance, and escorted her to the front door.

A hostess in her mid-thirties stood at a podium and welcomed them.

“Reservations for Garza,” he told the woman.

“Yes, sir. Right this way.” She reached for two faux-leather-covered menus and led them to a linen-draped, café-style table in back, where a violinist played softly. Votive candles and a single red rose in a bud vase added to a romantic ambience Hector hadn’t expected.

He pulled out Samantha’s chair, and before taking a seat, she scanned the white plastered walls, the dark wood trim and the various pieces of art that had been tastefully placed throughout the restaurant.

“What a nice place,” she said. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“It opened up about six months ago.” He sat across from her. “I was told the service was excellent and the food even better than that. So I’ve been meaning to try it.”

“Who told you about it?”

“My sister and her husband found it one day while they were shopping, and they’ve been raving about it for weeks.”

“Your sister?” she asked. “The pregnant one?”

He nodded. “Her name is Yolanda, and she’s my only sister.” He chuckled. “She’s three years younger than I am, but you’d never know it. She’s been mothering me for as long as I can remember.”

Samantha smiled and leaned into the table, clearly engaged in the conversation. “Do you have any brothers?”

“One. His name is Diego.”

“So your parents had three children?”

“Yes.”

Her smile broadened, and her blue eyes glimmered in the candlelight. “That’s a nice family size.”

He shrugged. “I guess it is.” He’d never thought about his family in terms of the number of siblings he had.

Was she thinking about having another child down the road, maybe giving her baby a brother or sister?

He couldn’t blame her for wanting to create a family, but you’d think that she’d consider adding a husband for herself, and a father for the baby. Yet that didn’t seem to be part of her game plan, and he wondered why.

Had she loved Peter too much to consider replacing him in her life?

That was hard to imagine. But then again, maybe that was because Hector hadn’t really liked the guy. Either way, it wasn’t any of his business.

Silence settled over them until the maitre d’ arrived. “Can I start you out with a bottle of wine?” he asked.

“Not for me,” Samantha said. “I’ll stick with water.”

Hector ordered a glass of merlot from his favorite California winery.

“Good choice, sir.” The maitre d’ motioned for one of the other waiters to bring water for the table, then left.

When they were alone, Samantha leaned forward again and said, “I’m curious about your sister.”

“What about her?”

“How’s she feeling? When is she due? Has she taken any childbirth classes?” She gave a little half shrug. “Just that sort of thing.”

“Oh,” he said. “I get it. Being pregnant means the two of you have a lot in common. And now that I think about it, I’ve noticed that expectant mothers tend to gravitate toward each other at every opportunity.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been with Yolanda at a couple of social events recently, and she’s drawn to any other pregnant woman within fifty feet of her.”

Samantha chuckled. “I’d probably do that, too. I’m going through so many physical and emotional changes right now. It would sure be nice to have someone to share it all with.”

But not a husband?

Why had she gone the sperm-donor route to get pregnant? A woman as beautiful as Samantha shouldn’t have had any trouble finding a man willing to donate his sperm—especially the old-fashioned way.

Hector certainly would have been tempted.

“You know,” he said, resting his forearm on the table, “this really isn’t any of my business, but I’m surprised that you went to the Armstrong Fertility Institute.”

“Why would that surprise you? They’re one of the most reputable and successful fertility clinics around.”

Fertility? He hadn’t realized that she might not have been able to get pregnant without the help of doctors.

“So it wasn’t a matter of not finding a suitable man to father your baby?”

“No.” She lifted her glass of water and took a sip. “Actually, I haven’t dated anyone since Peter died.”

That struck him as odd, and he couldn’t help saying so. “I would have thought that a woman as attractive as you would have eventually found another man and gotten married.”

“Thank you.” She lowered her glass and her gaze at the same time, and he wondered if his compliment had somehow surprised or embarrassed her. When she glanced up, she said, “Actually, I never gave dating much thought.”

“Why not?”

Hector’s latest question caught Samantha off guard, and she pondered her answer.

For one thing, she’d been grieving Peter’s loss that first year. Then she’d been so caught up in her mother’s illness, in her suffering, in the failed attempts to beat the cancer, that thoughts of romance had been the last thing on her mind.

Looking back, she had to admit that she’d never even considered replacing Peter in her life. At least, not right away.

But then again, she hadn’t been looking for a husband when she’d first met him, either.

Her experience with marriage had been a dysfunctional relationship between her mother and stepdad, so she hadn’t seen a relationship as a catch-all/end-all. But Peter began to court her, which had slowly worn down her reluctance and proven to her that some relationships could be healthy and happy.

“There aren’t many men like Peter,” she finally answered. He’d had a kind heart and a gentle touch. He’d also saved her from a life of poverty and shown her that not all men were physically and mentally abusive.

“You must have really loved him,” Hector said.

“Yes, I did.” Peter had been a wonderful human being, a good husband, and she would never forget all he’d done for her. Still, she supposed, if she met the right guy, she might be able to love someone again. But with the babies coming … Well, there wouldn’t be any men in her life for a very long time. She couldn’t imagine anyone willing to take on an instant family of triplets.

“Lucky guy,” Hector said.

Touched by Hector’s comment, yet doubting it, Samantha smiled. “I was the lucky one.”

As she glanced across the table and caught Hector eyeing her with an expression she couldn’t read, something stirred deep within her, something she couldn’t quite understand. Something that made her question what she’d actually felt for Peter, which was silly. She’d loved him, of course. How could she not?

“So you’re not interested in dating anyone?”

She placed a hand on the upper ledge of her pregnant belly. “Come on, Hector. Who’d be interested in me now? Before you know it, I’ll be bigger than a house. Besides, I have a lot more on my mind than romance.”

“Like what?”

“For one thing, I have a nursery to decorate.” And since she’d need three of everything, it was going to take all of her organizational skills to get the kids’ room ready for their homecoming.

A grin tugged at her lips as she thought about how much fun she was going to have getting ready for her babies.

The wine steward brought Hector’s merlot, stayed long enough to ask if they needed anything else, then left them alone again.

“You’re obviously happy to be pregnant,” Hector said. “And that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“You have no idea how thrilled I am to be expecting. Unlike you, I was an only child. My dad took off when

I was a preschooler, and for the first half of my life, it was just my mom and me. So I’m really looking forward to having a family of my own.”

The pregnancy was also her way of thanking Peter, of saying goodbye to him without ever forgetting him. Of course, she’d never forget how he’d rescued her, how he’d offered her a life of luxury that she’d never even imagined, how he’d loved her in a way no one else ever had.

Having the babies would also mark a new beginning for her, but Hector didn’t need to know all of that.

Besides, what would he say if he learned that the father of her babies was her late husband, a man he hadn’t liked? A man who’d been dead for five years?

No one, especially Hector, would be able to understand her decision. She wasn’t entirely sure she understood the complexities herself.

“Hey,” a cheerful female voice called out. “What a surprise. Look who’s here, honey.”

Samantha turned to the woman, a petite Latina who appeared to be about six months’ pregnant. The man with her was tall, lanky, and fair-haired. He, too, seemed bright-eyed and cheerful as they approached the table where Hector and Samantha sat.

“You said you really liked this restaurant, but I didn’t expect to run into you here tonight.” Hector rose to his feet and extended a hand to greet the man. “We were just talking about you.”

The woman offered Samantha a friendly smile. “We’ve been telling Hector all about this place, so I’m glad he took our advice. I’m Yolanda, his sister. And this is my husband, Chad.”

Samantha had already made that assumption, noting a family resemblance between the siblings, even if there was a definite difference in size. “It’s nice to meet you, Yolanda. I was hoping we would. I just hadn’t expected to meet you here tonight.”

“Really?” Yolanda turned to Hector and smiled in a you’ve-been-holding-out-on-me way.

Obviously, she thought the two of them were an item, so Samantha decided to explain. “Hector said you were expecting, too. I thought it might be fun to compare notes sometime.”

Yolanda, who hadn’t yet noticed Samantha’s pregnancy, since it was hidden behind the table, zeroed in on her baby bump now. As she did so, her eyes widened, and her lips parted, clearly unable to hold back her surprise. “Oh, my goodness. So you are.” She glanced at Hector, then to Samantha and back at Hector again.

It was, Samantha supposed, an easy conclusion to jump to: that Hector and Samantha were dating; that he was the expectant father. But she thought it was best if he clarified things. In fact, he’d probably be fielding a lot of questions from his sister when she got him alone, which seemed fair. After all, he’d been quizzing Samantha all evening.

Yet he seemed oblivious to his sister’s assumptions and did nothing to set her at ease.

“How about lunch someday?” Yolanda asked. “I’m free on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Samantha hadn’t expected such a quick response, but her calendar was clear. “Sure.”

“If you give me your number, I’ll call later in the week, and we can choose a day that works for both of us.”

Samantha reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and the little notepad she carried, and scratched out her cell number. Then she tore out the small sheet and handed it to Hector’s sister.

She wasn’t sure if the two of them would actually get together. People often said things like that upon meeting, but then dropped the ball for one reason or another. Either way, whether they met for lunch or not, she’d be okay with it.

It’s not as though she was desperate to find friends, although in a sense she needed to connect with someone. For the longest time, her life had revolved around Peter and his family, then her mom. So she’d lost a lot when her husband died and even more when her mother passed away.