Single Dad's Triple Trouble. Fiona Lowe

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      Gabe’s mouth covered Elly’s without a hint of hesitation. He knew exactly where to go and what to do to make her his.

      ‘Daddy!’

      Gabe stiffened and instantly broke the kiss. Shock scarred his handsome face, giving it a haggardness she’d never seen before, and her blood turned to ice. ‘What’s wrong, Gabe? What’s happened?’

      ‘Daddy!’

      A toddler threw himself at Gabe, who hastily rose to his feet, swinging the child up into his arms. ‘Hey, honey-pie.’

       Daddy? Honey-pie?

      Elly stared at the blonde little girl whose head rested so trustingly against Gabe’s chest.

      ‘You … have a child?’

      Elly swung around to see two dark-haired little boys, making a bee-line for Gabe. She swayed as the world started to spin. Gabe had three children all under two.

       Triplets!

      SINGLE DAD’S

      TRIPLE TROUBLE

      FIONA LOWE

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To Meg.

      We’ve travelled together for twelve books and the journey continues to be a pleasure. Thanks for your sage advice and support.

      CHAPTER ONE

       ‘I CAN’T believe I’m actually saying this, but I don’t think he’s the one for you.’

      Elly Ruddock, GP, community member of Coast- Care, and desperately late for the annual ‘blessing of the fleet’ dinner, spritzed perfume on her wrists, slid an emerald-green bead necklace around her throat and tried unsuccessfully to block out the conversation she’d had earlier in the day with her friend, Sarah.

      ‘Dev is a good man.’ Elly had defended her date for the evening. ‘Besides, you’re the one who sat me down two months ago, called me a “one-date wonder” and said I’d sabotaged every attempt at a relationship since I’d arrived.’ She’d over-stirred her latte as indignation had partnered up with disquiet. ‘Besides, this is my fifth date with Dev and now you’re telling me he’s not right. You can’t have it both ways, Sarah.’

      The nurse and mother had rescued her keys from her toddler and sighed. ‘Just be careful you’re not confusing good and solid with dull and boring.’

      Thankfully Elly’s mobile phone had rung at that exact moment, ending the conversation, and she’d rushed to the hospital to treat a child who’d been knocked off his bike by a car. The emergency had consumed the rest of the afternoon and was the reason she was now so late for the dinner.

      She threw lipstick and her phone into an evening bag and snapped it shut. Dev Johnston was not boring. He was CEO of the shire, reliable, dependable, coached the under-twelves’ cricket team and, most importantly, he was unlikely to break her heart.

      ‘I love you, El, but I can’t give you what you want.’

      She tugged on her wardrobe door and rummaged through her evening shoes, most of them rarely worn these days because Midden Cove’s night life didn’t come within a bull’s roar of Melbourne. When she’d told her friends and family she was relocating to the verdant island of Tasmania, she’d dealt with raised brows and knowing looks. Her mother had accused her of running away. Her sister, Suzy, who was happily married with twin daughters, had said, ‘Hobart isn’t Sydney, sis,’ which was code for the dating pool being small. There was an element of truth in both statements.

      But when they’d found out she was bypassing Hobart completely and going to an isolated coastal hamlet, they’d threatened therapy. She’d retaliated by saying that good men, men who wanted the same things out of life as she did, turned up in unlikely places. At least she’d know straight up that living in a country town would be something both she and a future partner wanted.

      So far, after two years in Midden Cove, she’d met a lot of good men. Most of them married, many of them grandfathers, and far too many were her patients. That left the guys who came to town and worked the season in the tourist industry, the principal of the primary school and the shire employees. She’d dated them all and Dev was the last eligible bachelor left in the district.

      The old grandfather clock chimed seven and the doorbell pealed. Unlike her, Dev was never late. She grabbed her shoes and ran.

      Dr Gabe Lewis stroked the heads of his sleeping children and found it hard to believe that whirling tornadoes could look this angelic in sleep. He stifled a yawn, his body wanting to fall into bed with them and crash into a deep and uninterrupted sleep; a sleep he hadn’t known for well over a year.

      ‘Gabe, you’ll be late if you don’t leave now.’ His mother spoke quietly from the doorway. ‘Dad and I have got everything under control.’

      I wish I did. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ He really didn’t want to go to the yacht club but his parents thought they were helping by giving him a night off and he didn’t have the heart to disappoint them. His reputation as the party guy had taken such a severe battering in the last eighteen months that he hardly recognised himself. ‘Ring me if you need me.’

      ‘I raised you, your brother and sister, and I’m sure I can handle your three for a night. ‘ Concern was etched deeply around her eyes. ‘Visiting us is supposed to be a holiday for you as well as the kids. Go out and have some fun, Gabe. You need it.’

      Fun. He’d forgotten the concept.

      The speeches were over, dessert had been eaten and the band swung into a retro set. The music filled Elly’s veins and her feet tapped under the table but Dev didn’t move from his chair. He was totally engrossed in outlining his plans for the foreshore conservation project and the protection of the fairy penguin colony. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, she was, but he’d spoken about it in such detail that she knew more about the programme than the workers who’d be implementing it.

      He suddenly gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I’m boring you.’

      She shook her head, almost too quickly. ‘It’s wonderful that you’re so passionate about your job.’

      Leaning forward, he picked up her hand. ‘You look lovely tonight, Eleanor.’

      She smiled, pushing down deep the fact that she’d asked him to call her Elly at least five times. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘I really enjoy spending time with you.’

      ‘So do I.’ Mostly.

      ‘We share a lot of things in common and five dates is a bit of a watershed, don’t you think?’ His serious brown eyes roved over her face. ‘I want to spend a lot more time with you.’

      The noise of the room seeped away, deafened by the pounding of blood in her head. A lot more time meant a serious relationship. A chance at a family?

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