The Matchmaking Twins. Christy Jeffries

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The Matchmaking Twins - Christy Jeffries Mills & Boon Cherish

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only feigning her annoyance. His dimpled smile struck again.

      “Now, now, Kylie. You couldn’t ever get mad at me. That’s just the hormones talking.” When his sister-in-law chuckled, Luke finally moved back into the line of fire. “I remember when Samantha had just given birth to the boys and she called my commanding officer in the middle of the night, reading him the riot act because I was still on deployment and she was out of baby wipes and didn’t have any clothes not covered in spit-up that she could wear to the store.”

      “Your wife was a saint for putting up with you gone on all that secret assignment mumbo jumbo. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d do if Drew got deployed before the girls go off to graduate school.”

      Luke rocked back on his heels but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The sadness in his blue eyes and the steeliness of his jaw did the talking for him.

      “Oh, my gosh, Luke.” Kylie must’ve seen the same hurt expression cross his face because she tenderly stroked his arm. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

      “It’s okay, Kylie. I know what you meant. And you’re right. Samantha did put up with a lot.”

      If Carmen had felt mildly awkward before, she was downright uncomfortable at being a witness to his heartache. What was she doing here, anyway? Should she even be listening to them reminisce about his deceased wife, a woman who obviously deserved the pedestal they’d all placed her on?

      “So, Mia,” Carmen said, trying to verbally tiptoe her way out of the emotional land mine. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

      “Oh, that’s right. Sorry, I have pregnancy brain and can barely hold on to a passing thought.”

      Carmen, knowing she would never be able to personally relate to such a symptom, had no response to that statement. Instead, she forced a smile toward the sweet woman.

      “You know how we do group exercise classes at the dance studio?” Mia asked but didn’t wait for a response. “Well, I normally teach a yoga class on Monday mornings, but with the baby due soon, I’m trying to find some substitute instructors while I’m on leave.”

      “But I’ve never taught yoga.”

      “Delgado’s a Marine,” Luke said, apparently listening in on their conversation. Kylie must’ve decided to distract him from his grief because now he was holding both babies, one nestled against each thick bicep. Whoa.

      “She’s a devil dog,” he continued. “They don’t do sissy yoga. Right, Delgado?”

      She cringed slightly at the Marine nickname and his inaccurate assessment of her.

      “Easy there, skipper,” Carmen said, throwing a naval moniker right back at him. His use of her last name was all the proof she needed that she’d been placed in the Friendzone. It was also a good reminder that she shouldn’t be lusting over him. “You just got out of trouble with Kylie and now you’re trying to pick a fight with Mia, as well? I think you’re underestimating your battle odds.”

      Mia’s hand shot between them like a white flag of surrender. “That’s not what I meant. I was actually moving yoga to a different day, which leaves Mondays open. So, I was thinking that maybe you could lead some sort of kickboxing type class or teach self-defense. You know, that type of thing?”

      “Oh,” Carmen said, at a loss for words. She hadn’t been expecting the request. She was flattered that the dance instructor thought her capable of teaching, and a little pleased that the small community was beginning to welcome her into their folds. But still. Would other ladies in town even be interested in such a class?

      “Give it some thought.” Mia, probably sensing her hesitation, quickly added, “I have the recital tonight, and then the girls and I normally get together on Thursdays for dinner. Why don’t you meet with us tomorrow and we can discuss things more?”

      “And by discuss things,” Kylie added, “she means maybe we can help her talk you into it.”

      “Uh-oh, Delgado.” Luke smiled showing a single dimple. “These women are trying to get you to come over to the dark side with them. I’m sure you’d rather hang out with us tomorrow at poker night.”

      And there she had it. She knew he was part of the group of men who got together with Chief Cooper once a week to play cards. Which meant Luke Gregson definitely thought of her as one of the guys.

      It should feel good that both groups wanted her presence at their Thursday night rituals. But there was still the underlying reminder that the man she couldn’t stop thinking about didn’t reciprocate her feelings—and probably never would, considering the loving way he spoke of his late wife. It was enough to dash all hope of her ever finding a man who would accept a damaged woman.

      In the past ten years, Carmen had had her share of poker nights and locker-room jokes and testosterone-fueled bragging. A night out with the girls actually sounded like a nice change of pace.

      So she looked at the two women and, for the first time, stepped over the invisible line she believed had been drawn in the sand. “What time should I be there, ladies?”

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      Could Officer Delgado try any harder to avoid him?

      As Luke stood outside the bakery, he had to wonder what he’d done to annoy the beautiful cop. Sure, he enjoyed his sassy sister-in-law and her group of friends. But Carmen didn’t seem like the type of woman to hang out with a bunch of former cheerleaders turned moms.

      She had way more in common with him, and he’d simply been trying to point that out. Okay, so maybe he sounded like an arrogant tool with all that ooh rah Marine business. He wasn’t trying to be a chauvinist or imply that she wasn’t capable of teaching yoga. From what he’d seen of her with the twins, and from what he’d heard of her reputation with the MPs, she was one tough cookie.

      So then why did she always act like he was a melted chocolate chip stuck to the bottom of her black utility boot?

      He would’ve asked Kylie if he’d done anything to offend Carmen, but she’d sat down to nurse one of the girls and Luke had gotten the heck out of Dodge. Not that he was uncomfortable with seeing a woman breast-feed. At least, he doubted he would be. He’d been on a classified mission when his own boys were born, and by the time he’d come home, Samantha had decided that formula was much easier for her. And who was he to object? He couldn’t be there all the time and he still felt immeasurable guilt that his wife had had to do everything on her own.

      Not that she’d totally been on her own, he’d found out after the fact. Still, it had been a hell of a lot more than he’d done.

      When Aiden and Caden were babies and toddlers, Luke was usually only home for a couple of months at a time. He and his late wife didn’t necessarily share the same parenting philosophy, but they also didn’t share the same workload when it came to the kids, so he took a backseat to her softer approach. Then, after her accident, he’d stayed home long enough to help the boys get through the initial grief before his parents convinced him they could help out. Luke had told himself that the three-year-olds needed a mother figure more than they needed him—after all, it was Samantha who had done most of the work so far.

      So when Aiden and Caden were staying with different family

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