Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins Page 11

  “That’s amazing.” Unable to help herself, she laid her hand on the hand he had resting on the table. “And wonderful.”

  He snorted a laugh and flipped his hand over so he could wrap it around hers. He squeezed lightly. “It is.”

  “And it’s going to make you a really great dad.”

  “Yeah, if I survive the toddler years.”

  She pulled her hand back with great regret. “Oh, trust me, the toddler stage is fun and games compared to the teen years.”

  He laughed.

  She smiled at him and once again urges pummeled her. They were so close emotionally that physical needs sprang up without warning. Not just sexual nudges, but the simple yearning to touch. To hold hands. Brush the wisp of dark hair from his forehead. Squeeze his hand.

  The waitress came over, setting their food in front of them. Chance said, “Thanks.”

  As the waitress scurried away and he examined his food, she studied him. He didn’t seem to know what a well-balanced, smart guy he was. Considering everything that had happened in his life, he should have been the grouchy guy she thought he was when they first met. Instead, he was kind, generous, determined to be a good dad.

  It was no wonder she wanted to fall in love with him.

  They dug into their pasta and he began talking about the twins. “You know, one of my biggest worries about having twins is the problem I had with Max.”

  “You had a problem with Max?”

  “He was the perfect older brother but he was also the golden boy. Even if I hadn’t discovered my dad’s duplicity, I probably would have gone at some point if only to make my own mark, to not have to compete, to be seen as my own person.” He set down his fork and caught her gaze. “I don’t want to do that to the twins. I don’t want them to feel they’re in competition. Or one is better than the other.”

  “With a girl and a boy, I don’t think there’ll be as much chance of that as there would have been if we had two boys or two girls on our hands.”

  He stared at her across the table and finally, quietly said, “Maybe.”

  She licked her suddenly dry lips. She knew what was happening, why his thought process seemed to have stalled. They were talking about the kids as if they were partners in raising them and it was a natural leap to go from that to partners in other things too. The easy intimacy that existed between them imperceptibly led them to the place they really wanted to be—the place maybe where they belonged.

  Interested in and mesmerized by each other.

  He took her hand. “Would it be so wrong for us to enjoy each other’s company…just for tonight?”

  Her heart told her no. It wouldn’t be wrong.

  “You mean like friends?”

  “Close friends.”

  She swallowed. The feeling of his hand holding hers was beyond description. Callouses scraped her soft palm. His warmth seeped into her skin. But that was purely physical. It was the emotional end of it that caused her yearning. She’d felt alone and empty lately, but she hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted that emptiness filled.

  And, really? Was it so bad to want to be friends?

  “I’d like to be friends.”

  “For one night,” he cautioned, reminding her that he didn’t want to be hurt any more than she did.

  She smiled. “One night.”

  The rest of the dinner they chatted about the babies, his job, her dreams of becoming a teacher and the classes she’d finally begun investigating at community college. In the SUV, he reached for her hand across the console and held it until they arrived at the gate to his mother’s estate. Then he dropped it. He used the excuse of needing to punch in the security code, but they both knew it was as if there was an imaginary line that they couldn’t cross.

  They drove down the snow-covered lane in silence.

  When they reached the cottage, they silently exited the SUV.

  He opened the door. She walked in before him and Cook set down the magazine she was reading.

  Chance asked, “How were the kids?”

  “Two angels,” she said, rising from the sofa. “Did you get all the gifts you wanted?”

  In their quiet need, they’d forgotten about the gifts.

  They glanced at each other.

  Chance said, “We left them in the car.”

  Sliding into her big wool coat, Cook laughed. “Hiding them, huh? Well, they’re still young enough that you don’t yet have to go to such extreme measures. A good solid bag will keep them from them.”

  “How about if I drive you up to the house?” Chance asked, dangling his keys.

  “That’d be great.”

  They left the cottage and Tory sneaked into the nursery to check on the twins. She pulled the blue cover up to Sam’s puffy chin, then the pink blanket up to Cindy’s. She thought of their reactions to opening their gifts on Christmas morning and wished with all her heart that she could be there to see it.

  But she’d be at her parents’ house. Then she’d spend the afternoon with Jason and his parents, pretending to have a festive Christmas around him.

  Because that was how it was supposed to be.

  By the time Chance returned to the cottage, she was in her bedroom.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE NEXT DAY, RIGHT AFTER Chance left for work, Robert arrived at the kitchen door with two boxes of Christmas decorations.

  “The missus thought you might like to make the cottage cheery for the kids for Christmas.”

  Tory looked into the boxes with a gasp. Everything from tinsel to Christmas lights winked back at her. In all the hustle and bustle of her life and confusion about her feelings for Chance, she’d forgotten they needed to decorate.

  While she set the box on the sofa, Robert brought in a huge evergreen that he set up in the corner in the back of the living room. When it was settled, he took a peek at the sleeping twins and left.

  In the quiet living room, she pulled everything from the box and organized it. While the babies slept, she hung lights and tinsel. The twins woke, and she fed them a snack and sat them in the play yard, while she hung the ornaments. By the time Chance came home, she had the tree decorated and the kids were down for another nap.

  “Wow.”

  She clapped her hands together with glee. “Your mom sent everything over.”

  “I’m glad she thought of it because, honestly, I hadn’t.”

  Neither had she. But as she’d decorated the tree she’d figured out why. She dreaded Christmas. Still, when she’d seen the evergreen and spent the hours stringing lights and hanging ornaments, her entire mood had changed.

  Thanks to the twins, maybe she could look at the holiday as fun again?

  “I have some spare tinsel and a few ornaments. I thought we could string the tinsel over the archway that leads to the bedrooms and hang the ornaments on it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Great. Because I need your help. I’m not tall enough.”

  While they waited for Cook to send dinner, Chance strung the tinsel along the archway and Tory gathered the remaining ornaments.

  Unfortunately, even with the tinsel looped low, she wasn’t tall enough to hang it.

  Chance got the three-step ladder. “Here.”

  He positioned it below the tinsel and she climbed up. “Thanks.”

  From the nursery, Sam let out a yelp and Chance ducked behind the ladder. “I’ll get him.”

  After about a minute, which Tory assumed was used for diaper changing, he emerged holding Sam who rubbed his eyes sleepily.

  “How’s Cindy?”

  “Still out like a light.”

  Tory winced. “I hope she gets up soon or she won’t sleep tonight.”

  Chance stopped. “Should I wake her?”

  “No, let’s give Sam a little alone time first. He likes being pampered, don’t you, sweetie?”

  Dressed in a one-piece red romper, with elves dancing across the front, Sam squealed happily.

  Tory poin
ted at the box of ornaments on the sofa. “Instead of me climbing up and down, can you hand those to me?”

  Chance strode to the sofa. “Sure.” He reached down and lifted an ornament which he held out to Sam. “I bet you’d like to decorate.”

  Sam made a noise that had to be agreement.

  Tory laughed. “You give them to him. He’ll give them to me.”

  Chance held the bright blue ball out to Sam, who happily grabbed it. When they reached the ladder, he said, “Okay, give it to Tory.”

  Not cooperating, Sam tried to stick it in his mouth.

  She laughed and took it from his hand. “Not in your mouth. To me.” She hung it on the tinsel. “See?”

  He giggled.

  Chance walked back to the sofa for another ornament. This one green. When he and Sam were beside the ladder, he gave it to Sam who again tried to stick it in his mouth.

  “Do you think he’s hungry?”

  “He’s always hungry.” Tory took the ornament from his hand again. “But if we do this a few times, he’ll catch on.”

  It took five tries. Finally, Sam caught on to the game and began handing the ornaments to Tory after his dad gave them to him.

  Unable to help herself, Tory pinched his chubby cheek. “You are such a sweetie.”

  “And happy,” Chance said, kissing his other cheek. “He does love special attention.”

  “They both do. I always try to give each kid at least five minutes of personal, one-on-one time every hour or so.” She pointed over Chance’s shoulder. “What if we take that star thing and see if we can center it above the tinsel?”

  “Okay, but it’s a little big. I’m putting Sam down for this.”

  He walked Sam to the play yard, set him inside with some blocks, grabbed the star ornament from the big box on the sofa and walked it to Tory.

  She turned to put it above the tinsel then faced him again with a wince. “There’s nothing to hang it on.”

  “Give me a second.” He went back to the box. “I saw some of those sticky tape things that you put on the wall.” He reached in and brought one out, then gave it to her. “Here.”

  Placing the star on the top of the ladder, she took the hanger from his hand and reached up to paste it to the wall. But even stretching as far as she could stretch, she couldn’t reach the spot she wanted. So she took another step up, to get closer, and tried again. The ladder shimmied but she took another step up. This time it down right shook. Before she could catch her balance she fell backward.

  Luckily Chance caught her. Their gazes met and they both burst out laughing. But within seconds their laughter faded. His arms were wrapped around her. Her arms had looped around his neck, automatically, instinctively, because she didn’t want to fall. But it felt so right to be in his arms and to have her arms around him that she didn’t want to pull them back.

  His head began to descend. Slowly. From the flash of heat that came to his eyes, she knew he intended to kiss her. By the time she told herself to pull away, his lips had touched hers. Softly. Sweetly.

  The brush of his lips was a balm to her hurting, weary soul. The well of emptiness inside her began to fill and instead of jerking back, she answered him. Her lips pressed against his, every bit as softly, every bit as sweetly, as if experimenting. It had been a long time since she’d intentionally kissed a man. Though she expected it to feel odd, it was as natural as breathing.

  His lips shifted and he deepened the kiss. When his mouth opened over hers, hers opened beneath his and his tongue slipped between her lips.

  Sensation after sensation poured through her. The physical ones she expected. The heat in her blood, the tingles that ran down her spine. Those were simple biology. But the emotional ones—the swell of longing, the sense of rightness—overwhelmed her.

  She’d never felt anything like this before. Not just a desire to get but to give. To give herself to him. And let the chips fall where they may.

  And that scared her.

  Because the chips that would fall didn’t just affect her, they’d affect Jason. The twins. Chance. The rest of her life, if one night of pleasure caused her to lose the job that was helping her to regain her sanity.

  “Stop!” She yanked away and scrambled out of his arms to the floor. “Stop.”

  Wonderful heat and need still enveloped her. Sweet yearnings that she wanted so desperately to satisfy. Not just for herself but for Chance. That part hurt her, caused an aching sting of guilt she knew would follow her for days. Inside, her loyalties were shifting. She wanted to be for Chance everything that he wanted her to be. She wanted to care for his kids, but she also wanted to care for him. To love him. To be his confidante. To rub his shoulders when he was tired. To kiss away the cares of the day.

  But she couldn’t.

  Tears welled behind her eyelids. She took another step back.

  He said, “I’m sorry.”

  Guilt pummeled her. She knew better than this. “This time sorry won’t cut it.”

  His eyes filled with misery. “Then I don’t know what to say.”

  She stepped even farther away. “That’s because it’s not your fault.”

  “Of course, it is. I kissed you.”

  “I let you.” She cleared her throat. “I wanted you to kiss me. I want so many things.” Angry with herself and realizing what they really needed was for her to be totally honest, she rubbed her hands down her face.

  “It’s really difficult being engaged to someone who can’t even speak.” She swallowed hard. “But I’m committed to him.”

  He shook his head. “Tory—”

  She stopped him with a wave of her hand, caught his gaze. “I don’t know how he did it, but he protected me from the brunt of the fall when the motorcycle hit the ground and slid across the pavement.” The tears hovering on her eyelid spilled over. “He saved me. It’s because he saved me that I can get out of bed every morning, care for your kids. See the sun.”

  “And you feel guilty so you believe the way to pay him back is by not enjoying any of those things?”

  “No. I think the way I pay him back is by standing by him.”

  He shook his head. “No man protects a woman in an accident so that she can spend the rest of her days sitting by the side of his empty body.”

  She gasped.

  He caught her hand and forced her to look at him. “I know right now you think that everything I’m about to say I’m saying out of selfishness. But, you know what? I’m saying this because I’m a guy. A normal guy. Which is what I guess Jason was. A normal guy.”

  She tried to jerk her hand free. He held her fast.

  “You’re looking at this like a romantic. But if Jason is half the man you think he is, he wouldn’t want you to spend your days off sitting by his bed when he can’t see or hear you.”

  “There’s no proof he can’t hear me.”

  “You’re missing my point. He didn’t save you so you could sacrifice the life he saved. He saved you because he wanted you to go on.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Oh, yes I can. Because I’m a guy and I know that if you and I were on the bike and we were careening toward disaster and I used my body to shield yours, it wouldn’t be so that you could waste that life.” He caught her gaze. “In fact, I’d be mad if you threw away the life I’d given mine to save.”

  Her mouth trembled.

  “The kind of man who inspired your devotion wouldn’t want you to do what you’re doing. But there’s a bigger reason I’m telling you this.” He swiped his hand across the back of his neck. “I’m worried about you. How long can you go on leading half a life?”

  That hit her right in the heart. In all the years since the accident everyone in her life had worried about Jason. Even her. A mangled leg had seemed like a small thing—was—a small thing compared to a coma. So everyone had focused their energies on Jason. His injuries. His needs.

  No one had actually forgotten her. But she’d been expected to simply foll
ow doctor’s orders and recover. No fears, no emotional needs, no attention. Just recover.

  And she had.

  She had!

  Why did this suddenly matter?

  She swallowed hard. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Somebody has to because you won’t. I think you know it’s time to move on. And it’s killing you, but you’d rather suffer than move on.”

  She licked her lips and stepped back. All sexual feelings aside, and not counting how happy he made her, the fact that he liked her enough to be honest with her, weakened her knees.

  She needed so badly to be honest with someone. To talk about her fears. Her hopes. Her needs.

  Still…

  How did she leave Jason? How could she leave Jason?

  How could she put herself and her feelings over his, when she was supposed to be the woman who loved him?

  She couldn’t.

  Cindy began to cry and Chance turned and walked back to the nursery.

  She closed her eyes, imagining Jason alone in that lonely room if she stopped visiting. While she enjoyed the twins, fell in love with Chance, made a fantastic life for herself, he would be alone.

  She would never, ever, ever let that happen. Even if she was a hundred and ten and had to be pushed into his room in a wheelchair, she would never leave him alone in that cold, empty room.

  She swallowed back a boatload of tears, telling herself that maybe it was time to leave this job. But she looked over at adorable Sam chattering to himself in the play yard and another surge of misery filled her. For as much as she couldn’t leave Jason alone, she also couldn’t leave that little boy motherless.