Triple treat (3 page)

"Mom says we were the same way at this age," said Carrie. "A triple threat, as Dad always said."

"And Mom would immediately counter with * triple treat,'" recalled Alexa with a reminiscent smile.

The sisters watched as Dylan climbed into a child-size molded plastic chair. Franklin and Emily clambered over him, and momentarily all three were sitting on top of each other. They babbled among themselves, and then Dylan pushed the other two off and stood up, toppling the chair over, knocking them all off balance. All three went sprawling to the floor.

Both Carrie and Alexa rose to go to their aid, but the intrepid trio picked themselves up and scampered over to the enormous stuffed panda bear that sat under the window.

Laughing boisterously, they threw themselves onto the panda's soft, plush body.

"Ben was totally hyped-up about an invitation to a picnic next door tomorrow," said Alexa as she and Carrie watched the children play. "Do you know anything about it?"

Carrie nodded. "My next-door neighbor, Tyler Tre-maine, just dropped by to invite all of us to his picnic tomorrow. It sounds like a neighborhood get-together, so I'd like to go and finally meet some of the neighbors. Will you come with us, Lex? I could really use your help with the babies."

"You're not actually going to eat dinner over there with the kids, are you?" Alexa asked incredulously.

Carrie laughed. "Of course not. You've seen what mealtimes are like with these three. We'd scare the neighbors away and send poor Mr. Tremaine into a state of catatonic shock. He looks like the precise, fastidious type—you know, neat, unwrinkled and immaculate, even when he's sweating. I'm sure his house is frighteningly orderly."

"A two-minute visit by the manic Wilcox triplets will put an end to that," joked Alexa.

"That's about as long as I plan to stay," said Carrie. "I thought I'd take them over after dinner, stay outside in the yard while we're introduced to some of the neighbors, and then come home. You know, put in a polite appearance."

"I guess I can tolerate that much socializing. And you will need help with the kids." Alexa appeared to be trying to talk herself into the outing. "Why is Ben so all-fired eager to go? A neighborhood picnic is pretty lame by his standards, isn't it?"

"Ben is so wildly impressed by the name Tremaine he'd go to a nuclear fallout site if one of them asked him to," Carrie said dryly. "He all but bowed and scraped and paid homage to Tyler Tremaine the whole time he was over here."

"Wait a minute/' cried Alexa. "Tremaine. As in the Tte-maine wing at the Hospital Center? As in Tremaine Drugs and Tremaine Books? The zillionaires who are always giving grants and donating things and doing all sorts of other philanthropic deeds? Those Tremaines?"

"The very same. I could almost see the wheels turning in Ben's busy little mind." Carrie grimaced knowingly. "And it was all about cultivating Tyler Tremaine's friendship and landing the Tremaine account for the ad agency/'

"The agency would certainly give him a private office of his own if he pulled that off," observed Alexa. "No more cubicle by the men's room for Benjamin Shaw if he were to land the Tremaine account."

"Sometimes Ben's ambition worries me," confessed Carrie. "He can be so calculating and manipulative. I almost felt like I ought to warn Tyler Tremaine to be on his guard. After all, he came over here in good faith to invite us to his party. He shouldn't have to put up with being hustled by an aspiring advertising shark, even if it is our own Ben."

"I'm sure Tyler Tremaine can take care of himself, Carrie. A man in his position must learn how to spot and deal with potential users at a fairly young age. What's he like, anyway?"

Carrie stared into space, remembering. "He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and he's a couple inches taller than Ben, so that would make him about six feet one. Dark hair, green eyes that are sort of an olive color. I've never seen such an unusual shade. Classic features. A smile so potent it almost knocks you off your feet. Muscular and strong but not overbuilt like some steroid freak. Hmm, what else can I say? He's absolutely gorgeous, your basic Greek god come to life. Not that I noticed, of course."

"Of course." Alexa laughed. "Was there a single detail about him that you missed?"

Carrie shook her head. "I also noticed that he couldn't wait to leave and that he thought Ben and I were two hope-

lessly tacky idiots. I'm sure it pains him to think that we're right next door."

"Maybe he'll offer to buy this place," Alexa said hopefully. "Keeping in mind his vast wealth, you can demand an outrageous price, sell this dump and move into a nice neighborhood near a good school, where there are other young families with kids for the triplets to play with and-"

"Even if he were to offer, I wouldn't sell, not yet." Carrie sighed. "I can't move the children again, Alexa. We've moved too often. I want them to have some sense of stability, to stay in one place long enough to feel secure."

"Well, maybe living next door to Mr. Wonderful will have its own unexpected rewards," Alexa said thoughtfully. "You're so pretty, Carrie. Tremaine had to have noticed. Maybe he'll ask you out and—"

"Alexa, a man like Tyler Tremaine can date models and princesses and movie stars. Why on earth would he want to bother with a widow who's raising triplets? Anyway, you know how I feel about dating. I don't have the time for it, and even if I did, I'm just too tired to even consider it. Besides, what would be the point? I'll never love anybody the way I loved Ian."

"I know." Alexa reached over to squeeze her sister's shoulder. "Ian was the most wonderful man in the world, Carrie. I'll always love him as the world's best brother-in-law and as my dear friend. Oh, Carrie, if only—"

"Go!" Dylan tore across the room. "Go, go!" He headed out the door and into the hall, Emily and Franklin in hot pursuit.

"Dylan's favorite word, not to mention his favorite activity. Taking off," noted Carrie. She and Alexa jumped to their feet to follow.

Carrie was glad of the diversion. Talking about Ian was always difficult, and if Alexa were to start crying as she often did when speaking of Ian and that fateful night...

Carrie determinedly put the tragedy from her mind. She had three small children to care for and to live for—and to run after right now! They must always come first, ahead of her own thoughts and needs, ahead of her own pain. They were a living legacy of the love she and Ian had shared.

And with such a vital, active triple legacy to tend, Carrie had neither the time nor the energy nor the inclination to seek the attentions of another man. She couldn't even summon the interest to seek a date to a movie.

She had accepted her fate on the day she had kissed her beloved husband, Ian, for the last time, moments before the lid of his casket was closed forever. Though it had been tragically brief, she considered herself blessed to have found love with a man like Ian Wilcox. She'd had her chance at love, and now it was over. Carrie was certain that she could not, would not, ever love again.

"Hey, Tyler, come here! You've got to see this!"

Tyler was trading unveiled sexual innuendos with a well-built redhead who'd introduced herself as Rhandee, when he was summoned by Luke Minteer, a relative newcomer to his ever-widening circle. Luke was the chief administrative aide to his wholesome, upright, married congressman brother, in whose footsteps he did not care to follow. It hadn't taken new-bachelor-in-town Luke Minteer long to hook up with Tyler's fast lane crowd.

"Wait here, darling." Tyler lifted Rhandee's hand to his lips for a caressive kiss on her fingertips. She stared at him, dazed and charmed, as he'd known she would be.

The front door was propped open, and Tyler joined Luke on the wide wooden porch. "I thought this was something you shouldn't miss, Tyler," Luke said, laughing. "Take a look at what's coming up the walk."

Tyler squinted against the evening sun to see the procession moving through the front gate. He recognized Ben Shaw and his sister Carrie immediately. A tall blonde, un-

doubtedly the third triplet, was with them, and Carrie was pulling a red wagon which contained...

Tyler gaped at the sight. There were three— three!— tow-headed toddlers aboard, all dressed in red, white and blue sunsuits, all sporting bowl-type haircuts, all looking astonishingly similar and unmistakably the same age.

"They must've made a wrong turn on their way to the playground," chortled Luke. "A really wrong turn to end up here!"

"Hi, Tyler!" Ben called at that moment.

Carrie, pulling the wagon with one hand, raised her other hand in an uncertain wave of greeting.

"Are you sure we were invited to this?" Alexa murmured. "They're staring at us like we're mutants from another planet."

Tyler stepped off the porch and walked toward the group, Luke at his heels. "Do you know them?" Luke whispered incredulously. "Tyler, you're not going to let them in, are you? I mean, this is definitely not a children's party!"

Tyler's gaze was fixed on Carrie Wilcox, who looked cool and fresh and incredibly lovely in a pink-and-white candy-striped sundress and slim sandals. His eyes darted to the red wagon behind her, filled with the squirming toddlers. "They're not—" he began. He cleared his throat and tried again "—all yours?"

"Yes, they are." Carrie smiled at his expression. He couldn't have looked more shocked if she'd shown up with a wagon full of live rattlesnakes. "Dylan, Emily and Franklin. They'll be eighteen months old tomorrow."

"Triplets?" Tyler was stunned. "Another set of triplets?"

"Multiple births run in our family," Ben said cheerfully. "All the way back to our great-grandmother, every woman in our family has had twins or triplets. Some genetic thing, we're told. Makes me glad I'm a guy, that's for sure!"

"Kids coming in twos and threes! It's like a—a curse or something!" exclaimed Luke, backing away from them as if they were some sort of infectious agents.

Tyler found that he did not share Luke's aversion. "That's fascinating," he said, coming to a stop directly in front of Carrie. "Has it been documented?"

"Sure has! Our family has been the focus of two separate university studies," Ben boasted. "Did you happen to note our names? Alexa, Ben and Carrie— -A, B, C. That was our birth order, and the letters were on our hospital bracelets, so our folks decided to stick with than when naming us. Carrie's kids were Babies A, B and C, too, but I convinced her to move along to the letters D, E and F for their names."

"And in a weak moment, I went along with him," Carrie said wryly.

"Must've been temporary lack of oxygen and loss of blood after giving birth to triplets," Alexa suggested drolly.

"Oh, God!" yelped Luke. He beat an immediate retreat into the house without another word or a single look backward.

Tyler shrugged. "I guess the subject of childbirth makes him queasy." Surprisingly, he felt no urge to make a similar speedy exit. Instead, he stayed where he was, standing close to Carrie. When he inhaled, he could smell the light, tantalizing scent of her perfume. For a moment, his mind seemed to cloud.

"You haven't met our sister Alexa yet," said the ever-chatty Ben. "Alexa, this is Tyler Tremaine." He spoke the name reverently.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Tyler nodded at Alexa. She was blond and slim, about five foot seven and very attractive, but she interested him as little as Ben did. It was Carrie that he wanted to look at, wanted to talk to, though he was well aware that he shouldn't attempt to prolong their visit.

"Shall we move this traveling circus inside?" Ben suggested eagerly.

"No!" Both Tyler and Carrie exclaimed at the same time.

Now, how was he going to explain that outburst? Tyler combed his fingers through his hair in a rare, nervous gesture. "It's just that—" he began, then paused, flummoxed. It was just that he didn't dare let them inside, not with the party already heating up. And if parties were rated the way movies were, this particular party, at the early hour of 7:03, would've already earned an eye-popping NC-17. The X rating would be earned by nine or ten.

But how to tactfully explain? It was a daunting challenge, even to Tremaine Incorporated's silver-tongued king of marketing. It seemed as though he had been rendered temporarily speechless.

Carrie was the one to fill the awkward silence. "Don't worry. I understand." She appeared amused rather than insulted. "I'm sure your house isn't childproofed, and you don't want these three launching a commando raid on it. Actually, we can't stay. We just dropped over to say hello and-"

"You're very gracious, and I feel like an idiot," Tyler cut in, feeling as gauche and foolish as a bumbling adolescent. It was a first, for he'd never been a bumbling adolescent-he had been a smooth operator since childhood, when he'd realized the power of his natural smile-and-charm style.

He tried to summon that power now, flashing a smile warm enough to melt polar ice caps. "You see, there is a-"

He never had the chance to invent a polite reason for barring them from entering his home. The baby triplets, growing bored with the inactivity, launched their own escape. All three scrambled out of the wagon and took off at breakneck speed in three different directions.

Alexa, Ben and Carrie immediately sprang into action. Ben ran after Franklin who was headed toward the back-

yard, Alexa followed Dylan who was racing to the front door, and Carrie chased after Emily who laughingly charged toward the street.

Tyler followed Carrie and quickly outdistanced her, bending down to scoop up little Emily before she reached the sidewalk. She let out an indignant howl of protest, then stared up at him, her big blue eyes curious. It suddenly seemed to occur to her that she did not know her captor, and her expression turned wary. "Down," she said uncertainly.

"Not a chance," said Tyler. "You're up and you're going to stay up, you little monkey."

"Monk-mey," Emily repeated, and then demanded forcefully, "Down!" She arched her back and squirmed, so wriggly and rubbery that Tyler nearly lost his hold on her. Fortunately, he managed to retain his grip as the baby hung practically upside down, still in constant motion.