remembering a comment his mother had made about singing her boys to sleep when they were little, Nick sang the only tune that came to mind. Bob Seger may not have intended his classic, “Rock And Roll Never Forgets” as a lullaby, but the lyrics seemed to strike a chord with the babies.
The loud sobs slowly abated. Nick felt the solid little bodies relax and gradually sink against his own. When the girls were limp and no longer crying, he tilted his head back to peer cautiously at them.
They were sound asleep.
Thank God. He eyed the cribs, trying to figure out how to lower each of the babies into their bed without waking one or both of them.
He drew a blank.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered. He managed to shift one of the little girls onto the bed beside him before sliding lower in the bed until he lay flat. Then he grabbed a pillow, shoved it under his head and pulled the spread up over his legs and hips. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
The sheets were still warm from Charlene’s body, and the scent of her perfume clung to the pillow, teasing his nostrils. He gritted his teeth and tried not to think about lying in her bed as he slid into sleep.
Nick woke the following morning with a kink in his neck and the sound of gleeful chortles accompanying thumps on his head from a tiny fist. He slitted his eyes open. He was nose-to-nose with a tiny face whose bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief below a mop of black curls.
He forced his eyes open farther just in time to see a second little girl as she wriggled out of his grasp and crawled toward the edge of the bed with determined speed. He grabbed a handful of her sleeper just in time to keep her from tumbling headfirst onto the floor.
The quick movement corresponded with a hard yank on his hair.
“Ow.” He winced, pried little fingers away from his head and sat up. “You little imp.” The tiny wrist bracelet told him this triplet was Jackie. “I’m gonna remember this,” he told her.
She grinned, babbled nonsensically and began to crawl swiftly toward the end of the bed.
“Oh no you don’t. Come back here.” He hauled her back, then threw the spread back and stood, a wiggling little girl tucked beneath each arm. He lowered them each into a separate crib and grinned when they stood on tiptoes, reaching for him. “No way. You’re trapped now and I’m not letting you out.”
“Good morning.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Charlene stood in the open doorway to the adjoining room, hair tousled, eyes sleepy. She was dressed in jeans and a pullover knit shirt, Jessie perched on one hip.
Nick was abruptly aware he was wearing only gray boxers.
“Morning.” He gestured at the girls in their cribs. “I’ll give you a hand with their breakfast as soon as I’m dressed. I’m going to jump in the shower.”
She murmured an acknowledgment as he left the room.
Both adults were sleep-deprived and weary, but the triplets seemed little worse for their middle-of-the-night activity. By the time they were fed, dressed and strapped in their car seats, Nick was beginning to wonder if he should hire four or five nannies instead of one or two.
The trip from Amarillo south to Red Rock was just over five hundred and fifty miles. In normal circumstances, pretriplets, Nick could have driven the route in eight or nine hours with good road conditions and mild weather. But traveling with three babies on board drastically changed the time frame. After numerous stops to change diapers and feed the little girls, they finally reached his home in Red Rock in late afternoon of the second day.
Charlene stepped out of the SUV and stretched, easing muscles weary from sitting for too many hours. The SUV was parked in the driveway of a Spanish-style two-story stucco house on a quiet residential street in one of Red Rock’s more affluent neighborhoods. She knew very little about this part of town; her previous apartment had been southeast, across the business district and blocks away.
In fact, she thought as she glanced up and down the broad street, with its large homes and neatly trimmed lawns, she didn’t remember ever having been in this part of Red Rock before.
Good, she thought with satisfaction. Her belief that it would be unlikely she might run into Barry or his friends seemed to be accurate.
She turned back to the SUV and leaned inside to unhook Jessie from her seat belt.
“I called my housekeeper this morning,” Nick told her as he unbuckled Jackie on the opposite side of the vehicle. “Melissa promised to come by and fill the fridge and pantry with food for the girls. She said she’d wait for the delivery van with the baby furniture too.”
Surprised, Charlene’s fingers stilled and she stopped unbuckling Jessie’s seat belt to look at him across the width of the SUV’s interior. “I didn’t realize you’d made arrangements—but thank goodness you did.”
Nick’s gaze met hers and she felt her breath catch, helpless to stop her body’s reaction to him.
“We were lucky last night,” he said. “The hotel was prepared to accommodate babies. Trust me, there aren’t any high chairs or cribs stored in my attic.” He lifted Jackie free and grinned. “I’m not sure what we would have done with these three tonight if the store hadn’t agreed to deliver and set up their beds today. The only thing I’ve got that comes close to cribs are a couple of large dog crates in the garage.”
Charlene laughed, the sudden mental image of the three little girls sleeping in boxy carriers with gates was too preposterous.
“Exactly,” Nick said dryly. He shifted Jackie onto his hip and unhooked Jenny from her seat.
He’s much more comfortable with the babies after only a day. Charlene was impressed at how easily he’d managed to extricate Jenny from her seat while holding Jackie.
She quickly gathered the girls’ blankets, stuffed animals and various toys from the floor mats where the girls had tossed them and finished unbuckling Jessie to lift her out of the car. She slung a loaded tote bag over her shoulder and bumped the car door closed with one hip.
“I’ll unload the bags after we get the girls inside,” Nick told her, gesturing her ahead of him to the walkway that curved across the lawn to the front entry. “Ring the doorbell,” he said when they reached the door. “Melissa should be here—that’s her car parked at the curb.”
Charlene did as he asked and heard muted chimes from inside the house. Almost immediately the door opened.
“Hello—there you are.” The woman in the doorway was small, her petite form sturdy in khaki pants, pullover white T-shirt and tennis shoes. Her dark hair was frosted with gray and her deep-brown eyes sparkled, animated behind tortoise-shell-framed glasses. “How was the trip?”
“Exhausting,” Nick said bluntly. “Melissa, this is Charlene London. Charlene, this is Melissa Kennedy, my housekeeper. Charlene’s going to take care of the girls, Melissa.”
“Nice to meet you.” Melissa’s smile held friendly interest. Charlene’s murmured response was lost as Jenny wriggled in Nick’s arms, her little face screwing up into a prelude to full-blown tears. Nick stepped
