better get used to that particular kind of misery.
To help himself as much as her, Colt tugged the nightgown over her head and took a step back as she pushed her arms through the sleeves and drew the hideous fabric down over her body. He’d called that nightshirt a man repellent—apparently he was immune.
She toed off her sneakers, then reached under the nightgown to unsnap her jeans. Once she’d pulled the zipper down, Colt stepped in again. “Lie back. I’ll get them off you.”
She did, but she braced herself on her elbows and kept a wary eye on him as he drew the denim down and off her long, well-toned legs. Smothering a groan, he tried not to think about those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. Tried not to remember the sound of her sighs or the flex of her muscles as she writhed beneath him. And he was failing.
Miserably.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deliberate step back. “Finished.”
“Thanks.” Nodding, she eased into a sitting position and tugged her nightgown down over her thighs.
Good thing, too, he told himself. Because he was on the ragged edge of control, and that edge was crumbling underneath his feet. The anger still simmering inside him didn’t seem to have an effect on the pulse of desire that kicked into high gear whenever he was close to her. Hell, the woman could still turn his body to stone without an effort.
Thankfully, his heart had turned to stone ten years ago, so that particular organ was in no danger.
“I think,” Penny said, drawing him back to the moment at hand, “I’ll just lie down for a minute or two.”
“Yeah. Good idea. Do you still drink that disgusting green tea?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Yes.”
He gave a shudder but said, “I’ll make you some.”
Colt left her staring after him and got out of her bedroom as quickly as he could. No point in torturing himself, watching Penny stretch out across a bed he really wanted to join her in. Frowning at his own train of thought, he reminded himself that he and Penny were done. The only reason he was here now was to see the twins. To make sure they were safe. Being cared for.
When he left her room, he fully intended to go straight to the kitchen. Instead, he stopped outside the twins’ bedroom. He laid one hand on the old-fashioned brass knob and felt the cool metal bite into his skin. His heartbeat jumped into a gallop and every breath came fast and shallow.
He felt the way he had the first time he’d gone paragliding in the Alps. That wild mixture of excitement, dread and sheer blind panic that made a man so grateful to be back on the ground when it was all over, he wanted to kiss the dirt. But just as on that long-ago day, there was no turning back. He had to jump off the side of that mountain. Had to take this next step into a future he never would have predicted.
Opening the door quietly, he stepped inside. Colt heard them before he saw them. Quick, soft breaths, a muffled whimper and a scooting sound as one of them shifted in their sleep. Colt scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck and walked silently across the dimly lit room. Outside, the sun was setting, casting a few last, lingering rays through a window that overlooked a tiny backyard.
Inside, there were two white cribs, angled so that the twins could see each other when they woke. There was a rocking chair in one corner of the room, shelves for toys and books, and matching dressers standing at attention against one wall. Pictures in brightly colored frames dotted the walls and at a glance, Colt could see the photos were of rainbows and parks and animals...everything that would make a baby smile.
But it was the babies he was interested in. His footsteps were quiet, and still the old wood floor creaked with his movements. But the twins didn’t react; they slept on, dreaming. Taking a deep breath, Colt steadied himself, then walked up to stand between the cribs, where he could see each of his children.
Riley wore pink pajamas and slept on her stomach, arms curled, hands beneath her, tiny behind pointed skyward. He smiled and looked at twin number two. Reid’s black hair was trimmed shorter than his sister’s. He wore pale green pajamas and slept sprawled on his back, arms and impossibly short legs spread out as though he were making a snow angel. Both of them were so beautiful, so small, so...fragile, they stole his heart in a blink.
He didn’t need a paternity test to be sure they were his. Instinctively, he knew they were his children. He felt it. There was a thread of connection sliding through him, binding him to each of them. Colt reached out his hands and curled a fist around the top rail of the matching cribs. His heart might be stone where women were concerned, but these babies had already stamped themselves on his soul. Each whispered breath tightened the invisible thread joining them and in a few short moments, Colt knew he would do anything for them.
But first, he had to deal with their mother.
* * *
Penny woke up, disoriented at first. A quick glance at her surroundings told her she was at home and she took a relieved breath, grateful to be out of the hospital.
“The twins!” Her eyes went wide as she realized that watery morning sunlight was creeping through her bedroom window. She’d slept all night. Hadn’t seen the babies since that one quick check the night before. Hadn’t heard a thing. What if they had cried out for her? How could she sleep so soundly that for the first time in eight months, she hadn’t heard them?
Pushing herself out of bed, she took two hurried steps toward the door before the pain in her abdomen slowed her movements to a more cautious speed. She went to the twins’ room and stopped in the doorway. The cribs were empty. Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs she could hardly breathe. Panic shot through her still-sleep-fogged mind.
Then she heard it.
A deep voice, Colt’s voice, sounded low, gentle, and her initial bout of panic edged away to be replaced by a wary tenderness.
Penny followed his voice, moving slowly, cautiously, through the house that had been hers for the last two years. The house that was still filled with memories from her own childhood. The house where she’d made a home for her kids.
At the kitchen doorway, she paused, unnoticed by the three people in the room. The twins were in their high chairs, slapping tiny palms against trays that held gleefully mushed scrambled eggs. Their father—Colt—sat opposite them, talking, teasing, laughing when Reid threw a small fistful of egg at him. Penny’s heart ached and throbbed. She used to dream about seeing Colt like this with the twins. Used to fantasize about what it would be like for the four of them to be a family.
And for one quick moment, she allowed herself the luxury of living in that fantasy. Of believing that somehow, the last eighteen months had been written differently. That Colt belonged here. With them. With her.
“Are you going to come in or just stand there watching?”
She jolted as he turned his head to spear her with a look. Guilt rushed through her and the fantasy died a quick, necessary death. What was the point in torturing herself, after all, when she knew that Colt didn’t want her? All he wanted was her children. And the twins, he couldn’t have.
“I didn’t think you knew I was here.”
“I can feel your disapproval from here.”
She
