Colton's Twin Secrets. Justine Davis

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Colton's Twin Secrets - Justine  Davis The Coltons of Red Ridge

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And indeed saw a point in the shape of the tiny brow, where the other one was a smooth curve.

      “I...never noticed.” Odd, he usually had a cop’s eye for details, but he’d missed this.

      “It’s a girly thing,” Gemma said blithely, as if she never would have expected him to notice. “Besides, I’d guess you’ve been a little busy.”

      That was an understatement. Dante thought. Everything was a blur from the moment he’d picked up the girls from Mrs. Nelson. “Frankly,” he said drily, “I’m amazed we all survived.”

      Again that smile. Genuine, he thought. That’s what it was. “I just hope you can tell me which is which.”

      “I... They have little bead things with their names. Elastic. On their ankles.” He grimaced. “They come off, though. Thankfully not at the same time so far.”

      She laughed. It wasn’t the light, airy thing that Juliette’s had been, but rather a deeper, huskier sound that seemed to make the back of his neck itch.

      “Let’s see, then,” she said, with her free hand tugging at the tiny bootie of the twin so entranced with her earring. “Ah, ah, sweetie, that earring would be just too easy for you to swallow, so I’ll just hang on to it while you play.”

      He remembered wrestling with the tiny cloth foot coverings in the wee hours, remembered with an odd twinge of...something, that moment when he’d caught that impossibly tiny bare foot in his hands and marveled at it. That these two tiny beings were connected to him, were of his blood, his DNA, even if once removed, filled him with awe. And the burst of protectiveness that had flooded him in that instant had shocked him.

      How could his brother stay on that crooked path when he had these two tiny girls depending on him? How could he not be changed, simply by their very existence? How could he—

      It had hit him again then, with renewed force. And he wondered if he would ever get over the jolt of having to think of his brother in the past tense.

      “Ah,” Gemma said softly, yanking him out of the painful memory. “So you’re Lucia,” she said. “With the affinity for flashy things. I’ll remember that.” She looked at the sleeping twin now. “Which makes you Zita, of the pointed brow. Sounds like a mythical name, doesn’t it?”

      Dante was smiling. Widely. And he wasn’t quite sure why. Sure, it was in part because he was feeling better about the impulsive decision he hadn’t even told her he’d made yet. And because he liked her voice. But it was more than just that. It was how she was speaking to them, not in baby talk or cooing, but lightly, with humor, as if they could understand.

      And perhaps they could, the tone if not the words. For Zita had awakened as if in response to her name, although she couldn’t really know it yet, could she? Or maybe she could. He sighed, seeing yet another internet search in his future. He really needed to learn where they were at six months, where they should be and what he should be watching for from here on out.

      Here on out. Which meant the rest of his life. For the rest of his life, he was responsible for these two. Not just care and feeding, which suddenly seemed simple in comparison to protecting, nurturing, teaching...

      It all crashed in on him at once, and he sank down in his desk chair. Gemma looked back up at him.

      “Are you all right?” she asked, sounding startled. “You look a bit...pale.”

      “Ashen is the word you’re looking for,” he said shakily. “Because it all just hit me.”

      “All?”

      “That my brother is gone.” He looked at the girls. “That the rest of my life is no longer mine.”

      She looked from him to the girls and back. “No,” she agreed quietly. “I guess it’s not.”

      “I don’t even know why he did it. Why he chose me for them.”

      Any more than he knew why he was telling her this. He never spilled his guts like this, not even to his friends, let alone a virtual stranger.

      “You’re his brother,” Gemma said, sounding a little puzzled.

      “Yeah, but...” He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. “Never mind.”

      “You’re probably feeling what Blake felt when he found out about Pandora. Shocked, and a little terrified.”

      “That fits,” he muttered wryly. “Especially the terrified part.”

      “He said learning he was a father stunned him even more since she was already here.” She waved at the girls. “Like they are. No months of waiting to prepare, get used to the idea.”

      “I’m only their uncle,” he said, not even sure why.

      “But you’re going to have to be more.”

      He shifted his gaze from the girls—now giggling quietly at Flash, who was looking at them, head tilted and wearing his most quizzical expression—back to Gemma.

       She’s got depth to her...

      He was seeing that now. Never in a million years would he have expected to be having this kind of conversation with the spoiled youngest daughter of Fenwick Colton.

      “I always thought I’d have kids. Someday. But not now.”

      She gave him a look that bordered on surprise, but only nodded. Then, after a moment, she said softly, “Maybe it doesn’t matter when you become a father, only that you do.”

      He stared at her. She was rattling him, this pampered yet unexpectedly sweet heiress, and he didn’t know what to think of her. Quickly he looked at the babies. They were making soft sounds now, simple ohs and ehs and ahs, but in turns, looking at each other, as if they were carrying on some sort of secret twin conversation. As perhaps they were.

      “Maybe if they were boys,” he muttered. “I’d know something about that.”

      “Then it’s lucky you have me, isn’t it?” Gemma said airily.

      Dante looked back at her. She looked...at home on the floor next to his desk, Flash at her side and the two girls in front of her. He caught himself picturing this same tableau in his living room, maybe before the fireplace, the flames throwing a soft glow over them.

      He yanked himself off the uncharacteristic and unwanted path. He wasn’t sure she was qualified, or that she wouldn’t get bored and walk out within the week. But he needed help right now. And just because she seemed to screw up his thinking was no reason to refuse her offer.

      Desperate times called for desperate measures.

      “Okay,” he said, surrendering to what now seemed inevitable. “You’re hired.” For now, at least.

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