Seth approached the counter, shaking his head in amazement. “She’s right, babe. That fricking bird has a vendetta against her. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“It just flied into my head and tried to steal my barrette!” Sophie said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Flew into your head,” she corrected, then knelt down to wipe away her daughter’s tears. “Are you okay? Did it peck you?” Wow. What a question to be asking your child, she had to marvel.
“I’m okay. Sef saved me.” Now dry-eyed, Sophie walked over to the table to get her doll, then wandered out of the kitchen chattering away to herself.
Once Sophie was gone, Seth headed for the fridge to grab a beer. “Miranda, this isn’t a joke. We need to burn that bird feeder. That psycho sparrow could’ve really hurt her.”
The genuine concern in his voice floored her. Sometimes she still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Seth actually cared about her kids. She suspected he was even starting to love them. The way he loved her.
Warmth circled her heart. It had taken a while, but the apprehension she’d felt about dating Seth had finally withered away. After she’d told him she loved him, she’d instantly wished she could take the words back—not because she didn’t mean them, but because saying them out loud made everything feel so…real. She hadn’t wanted to love Seth. She hadn’t wanted to love any man. For the past seven years, she’d been on her own, and she’d been doing just fine. So why rock the boat? Why open her heart to a man and risk being let down?
But Seth had proved time and again these last couple of months that she could count on him. He was there for her. He was there for her kids. Nowadays, she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life. Not seeing that mocking grin anymore, or hearing his raspy voice, or feeling his powerful arms around her.
Seth twisted off the bottle cap and sipped his beer. She’d started stocking the fridge with Bud Lights for the nights he stayed over, which were starting to be a lot. So often, in fact, that he had his own toothbrush in her bathroom now.
“Does one of us need to pick up the rugrat?” he asked. He’d taken to calling the kids that again, but now he said it with affection rather than scorn.
“No, Coach Diaz is dropping him off.”
She knew Jason was disappointed that she and Seth hadn’t made it to his Little League game today. Miranda usually managed to show up halfway into the game, sometimes earlier if she broke a few traffic laws, but her afternoon ballet class had run late today. And Seth had gone to the beach to work out with a few other SEALs, so he’d been MIA too.
“Oh, and I forgot to tell you. I’m going to be scarce for the next few days.” Seth’s expression displayed a hint of regret.
“How come?”
“We’re going to the desert again. Doing some mock extractions, I think.” He set the beer on the counter. “We go wheels-up at oh-dark-hundred hours, so I don’t think I should crash here tonight.”
“Yeah, probably not,” she agreed. “Tomorrow is the one day we all get to sleep in.”
Ironically, that day was Monday, which most of the world dreaded. But the twins’ school didn’t open until noon on Mondays, and she didn’t teach any classes at the studio, so that meant none of them had to get up early. Still, she’d miss waking up in Seth’s arms.
“You know, we could easily solve all our problems with one easy move.”
She raised her eyebrows. “We have problems? Plural?”
“Well, just one.” He yanked her into his arms and rested his hands on her lower back, seductively stroking the strip of exposed skin where her tank top had ridden up. “I want you around all the time.”
Miranda was momentarily distracted by the delicious way his rough-skinned fingers traveled over her flesh. “You’re saying that’s a problem? Wanting me around?”
“The problem is that you’re not around. And the solution is simple.” He met her eyes. “Maybe we should all get a place together.”
Shock slammed into her. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “I’d suggest that I move in here with you guys, but this place is too tiny, and I’d need enough space for all my workout equipment and my gear.”
She was still trying to absorb it all. “What about Dylan? You’re just going to abandon him?”
“Our lease is up in November, so we just wouldn’t renew it. Or he could renew and find a new roommate. Or Dylan could move out and you guys could move in. There’re a lot of options.”
Wow. Living together. The notion was scary as hell, but it also sent a thrill soaring through her.
“I…would have to give it some thought,” she finally said. “A lot of thought.”
Seth grinned. “That’s exactly what I knew you would say. But I figured I’d bring it up anyway.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, the prickly stubble on his jaw scratching her chin. “You’ve got until November to mull it over, Miranda. No rush. Just know that the option is there.”
Chapter Twenty
September
Claire McKinley was infuriatingly attractive. Gorgeous, even, which only pissed Dylan off further as he took the overnight bag she handed him and lugged it to the spare bedroom of his and Seth’s townhouse. She’d only been in his presence for five minutes, and he already wanted her to leave.
Though in the woman’s defense, his brother was being a bit of a dick.
“I don’t have a choice. He had a last-minute emergency so the meeting was cancelled.” Chris’s soothing voice drifted out of the living room. “And the senior partner invited me to join him at the country club for a round of golf. Was I just supposed to say no?”
“Yes,” Claire shot back. “It’s one thing to dump me off on your brother while you have a legitimate business meeting to attend, but you’re blowing me off for golf? Can’t you see how that might be a tad annoying, Chris?”
His brother didn’t have the decency to sound remorseful. “When the senior partner invites you to his club, you say yes, end of story.”
After taking a calming breath, Dylan pasted on a happy face and strode back into the living room. “Your bags are in your room.” AKA fuck you, big brother, for turning me into your damn bellhop.
“Thanks,” Chris said absently.
Claire didn’t say anything.
Dylan studied her discreetly, wondering what his brother saw in the woman yet at the same time knowing exactly what Chris saw in her. The woman was sex on stilettos. She had reddish-brown hair that cascaded down her back in long waves, enormous amber-colored eyes, a cupid’s-bow mouth that was made to be wrapped around a man’s cock. And she was packing a lotta sweet, sweet curves beneath that sleek black business suit of hers.
“Did I hear something about your meeting being cancelled?” Dylan said casually.
Chris nodded. “The partner I was supposed to meet bailed. So I’m playing golf instead.”
“Should we go out for dinner later?” He made sure to include Claire in the offer by sparing her a pithy glance.
“I’m having dinner at the club with the senior partner, and then he mentioned something about a cigar lounge. I’m not sure when I’ll be back tonight.”
As much as he hated feeling even an ounce of sympathy for the Ice Queen, Dylan understood why she looked so pissed off. Chris really was abandoning her.
“So you’ll be spending the entire day and night hanging out at a country club?” Dylan eyed his brother warily.
“Such is the life of a corporate lawyer,” Claire spoke up. Her voice was tighter than a drum. “Just think, Chris, you wouldn’t get to experience such luxuries if you’d taken that job at the public defender’s office.”
Dylan also picked up on a note of displeasure in her voice—directed at him. And just when he thought he’d imagined it, Claire actually scowled at him.
WTF? What did he have to do with Chris turning down a public service job and choosing to suck on the corporate teat?
“As you can see, my fiancée isn’t
very happy with me at the moment,” Chris said wryly. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around Claire’s shoulders and offered that puppy-dog grin Dylan had seen him flash to get out of trouble during their entire childhood. “Don’t be mad at me, dear.”
Dear? Had they moved into an old folks’ home without telling him?
“You know what a great opportunity this is,” Chris went on. “And it’s not like you’ll be alone. You can spend some time with Dylan, get to know your future brother-in-law.”
Both Dylan and Claire cringed, but Chris didn’t seem to notice.
“I have that carnival thing tonight, remember?” Dylan said, not bothering to hide the relief on his face. No way would Claire want to spend her evening at such a lowbrow event.
“Hey, that’s great. You love carnivals,” Chris said to the redhead. He glanced back at Dylan. “She’s always trying to get me to go to that carnival near the pier, the one you used to drag me to when we were kids? But you know how I feel about those places. So tacky and boring—” Something buzzed and Chris removed a BlackBerry from the pocket of his navy-blue blazer. “Shoot, gotta take this. You two hammer out the details.”
As Chris waltzed off, Dylan sized up his future sister-in-law the way he assessed a mission’s potential threat level.
“You don’t have to come,” he said graciously.
“You don’t want me to come,” she corrected.
Their eyes met in a Wild West standoff.
She drew first blood. “I don’t like you, but Chris wants us to get along, so you know what? Fine. Let’s just go to this stupid carnival, win him a big stuffed panda, and come home raving about what a super-awesome-fantastical time we had, okay?”
“I don’t like you either.”
“You just had to get that in there, didn’t you?”
“Thought it was only fair that you knew the feeling was completely mutual, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
“Would you rather I called you dear?” He snorted. “What are you, an eighty-two-year-old woman?”
Her cheeks were flushed with anger, almost matching the color of her hair. “You know what? Maybe I’ll stay here and we can just pretend I went to the carnival.”
“Scared that you might fall in love with me?” he asked sweetly.
“Worried I might strangle you,” she shot back.
“Then we’re in the same boat, honey.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Right, I forgot. Sorry, cupcake.”
She looked ready to murder him. Fortunately, Chris slid back into the living room before any dead bodies hit the floor.
Immediately, Dylan and Claire pasted on some smiles.
“Everything okay here?” Chris looked from one to the other.
“We’re great,” he said cheerfully.
“Super,” she agreed. Her happy mask shifted for a second to reveal a flicker of extreme reluctance. “We’re going to a carnival tonight. It’s going to be so much fun.”
“So much fun,” Dylan echoed. “We’re excited to get to know each other better. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Her jaw clenched for a second before relaxing. “Uh-huh. I can’t wait.”
Seth accepted the piece of cotton candy Jason held up to him and popped it in his mouth. The sugary sweetness melted on his tongue and brought forth an image of the dentist’s chair he and the twins would be sitting on in the near future.
He wished Miranda were here. She was much better at saying no to her children. He, on the other hand, let those imps walk all over him. He’d already bought them cotton candy, popcorn and snow cones, but he was determined to say no to the next sweet treat they begged for, because at that point, he’d be worrying less about cavities and more about vomit.
“Can we ride the ferry wheel again?” Sophie tugged on his hand to get his attention.
“Ferris wheel,” he corrected. “And the answer to that is heck yes.”
She giggled.
“Jase, you want to ride the Ferris wheel?”
The boy shook his head. “I wanna win a goldfish.”
“All right.” He searched the crowd for Dylan, finally spotting the blond SEAL near the railing of a nearby ride. “Wade! You two mind taking Jason over to games while Soph and I go up on the wheel one more time?”
“No prob. Get over here, squirt.”
Jason dashed off toward Dylan, who’d come in Miranda’s place and ended up bringing a smoking-hot redhead along. Seth had been ready to high-five his buddy for a job well done—until Dylan introduced the chick as his brother’s fiancée. The two of them had been bickering like cats and dogs since the moment they’d showed up, making him long for Miranda even more.
“I wish Mom was here,” Sophie said as he scooped her into the ride car and slung an arm around her.
The safety bar locked into place, and then the car began its slow ascent, each rise providing a better view of the busy carnival grounds. The scent of deep-fried food, popcorn and sugar permeated the evening air. The sun had just set, and the bright neon lights on the rides down below twinkled in the dusky night.
“I wish she were here too,” he agreed. “But she had to work.”
Miranda had been pretty bummed about it. Normally she didn’t start work at OMG until seven or eight, but the club was hosting a private party that had begun at five o’clock, so she’d headed over there right after she finished up at the school. Since this was the last night the carnival was in town, Seth had offered to take the twins himself and now he was glad he had. The kids were having a great time. And honestly? So was he.
It still amazed him, how different things were. How different he felt. Telling Miranda about Adam had been the most liberating thing he’d ever done. The second he’d given her that article, voiced his fears and insecurities, it was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Miranda had said it wasn’t his fault. A tiny part of him even believed her. But a bigger part knew she was wrong—he was responsible for Adam’s abduction. That certainty hadn’t changed.
But Miranda had made him feel like there was hope for him after all. Her trust in him made him want to trust himself.
“Soooo pretty,” Sophie gushed as she peered down at the lights.
Her small hand slipped into his, and his chest tightened with emotion. Shit, he was starting to care something fierce about these rugrats. Sophie was the smartest, sassiest little girl he’d ever met, and Jason was so damn energetic, so eager to please and quick to smile.
Five months ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed that he’d be atop a Ferris wheel with a six-year-old nestled against him, yet here he was, doing exactly that—and actually enjoying himself.
When the ride came to an end, he lifted Sophie into his arms and made his way to the games area. Didn’t take long to find the rest of their party. Jason had abandoned his quest for a goldfish—he and Dylan were at the shooting gallery now, whooping up a storm and shooting BBs at a slew of metal chickens that rapidly popped up as they flew along a motorized loop.
“Where’s Claire?” Seth asked, looking around.
“Restroom,” Dylan replied without taking his eyes off the targets. “Even bee-otches need to pee.”
Jason looked curious. “What’s a bee-otch?”
“It’s a word you’re going to forget and never mention again,” Dylan said cheerfully.
“Sef, come shoot!” Jason begged, promptly forgetting about his pursuit of the definition of bee-otch.
“But I wanna see the pony,” Sophie whined, pulling on the collar of his T-shirt.
He set her down on the ground. “We’re going to the petting zoo when we’re ready to leave,” he reminded her. “Because it’s all the way on the other side of the carnival near where we came in, remember?”
She pouted. “But I wanna go now.”
“Soon,” he promised, playfully pulling on her ponytail. “Right now, why don’t we shoot some chickens with your brother? It’ll be fun.”
“But I do
n’t wanna shoot chickens.”
He stifled a groan. “Then you can watch us for a bit.”
“But I don’t wanna—”
“Jase didn’t want to ride the Ferris wheel but I took you anyway, remember?” Seth said gruffly. “So now it’s your turn to let your brother do something he wants, and then we’ll all go to see the ponies together. Cool beans?”
After a beat, Sophie grudgingly said, “Cool beans.”
He lifted her up on the counter right next to the shooting station and handed her the bag of cotton candy. “You can witness firsthand what awesome aim I have,” he told her.
Seth gave the kid manning the booth a five-dollar bill and reached for a rifle. For the next ten minutes, he and Dylan showed Jason how it was done. The air was alive with metallic ping noises as BBs spat out of the weapons and collided with the targets. Jason was cheering loudly, having declared himself on Team Seth, while Sophie took pity on Dylan and rooted for him.
The two SEALs didn’t miss a single shot, so the contest eventually became about which spot on the chicken they could hit.
“Now hit the beak!” Jason ordered.
Seth pulled the trigger with ease. Ping. Perfect beak shot.
Dylan nailed it too.
“The feet!”
Ping. Ping.
After every shot, he’d glance at Sophie from the corner of his eye to make sure she wasn’t up to any funny business. Every quick look revealed a flash of pink—her T-shirt and the cotton candy she was stuffing in her mouth.
“Sef, show me how to aim better,” Jason demanded.
He squatted down. “First thing, you have to hold the rifle properly. We take this hand—” he reached for Jason’s right hand, “—and put it here, and your other hand here on the undergrip of the weapon. And we want the butt—”
Jason giggled.
“The butt of the rifle,” Seth said, rolling his eyes. “We want to rest it here, on your shoulder, and not in your armpit like you were doing before. Now…”
He gave Jason a few more tips about how to better aim, then stood up and watched as the little boy took a shot. Ping. Jason hit a chicken dead center.