Twins Under His Tree (5 page)

Since she was the only parent they had, he could certainly understand that.

“Do you think the practice can do without me for that long?”

“We can manage. You know our client list is down because of insurance issues. This could work out to everyone's advantage. We can always consult with you from home if we need your expertise.”

Suddenly remembering the need to burp Sophie, he set the bottle on the floor and balanced the tiny baby on his knee. His hand was practically as large as
she
was. What would life be like taking care of them every day? Being able to watch their progress and all the firsts? Keeping his palm on her chest, he rubbed her back until she burped.

Smiling at Lily he said offhandedly, “She's easy.”

Lily smiled back.

In that moment, he knew being here with Lily like this was dangerous.

What he was about to suggest was even
more
dangerous.

“D
o you want me to sleep on the couch again tonight?” Mitch asked as he cradled Sophie in his arm once more and offered her the bottle again. He couldn't help studying her perfect baby features. He was beginning to recognize a warm feeling that enveloped his heart when he was around Sophie and Grace.

After a lengthy pause, he cast a sideways glance at Lily to gauge her expression. As long as she was upstairs and he stayed downstairs, he wouldn't worry her with the restlessness that plagued him at night.

She looked somber as she debated with herself about what to say. He could almost hear her inner conversation because he'd already had the same one. If he stayed, they'd connect more. If he stayed, they might get to know each other better.

Quietly, she responded, “If you stay, I think I can
keep Sophie and Grace happier. The two of us are obviously handling them better than
I
was handling them alone. I have to learn what works and what doesn't. That will just take time. In the meantime, I want to stay calm. I want to enjoy both of them. I can't go into a panic just because Grace and Sophie are crying at the same moment.”

“Why
did
you panic?” Extreme reactions weren't at all like Lily. But she'd never been a mom before. She bit her lower lip and he found himself focused on her mouth much too intensely.

“I have these two little beings depending on me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” she attempted to explain. “I don't want to let them down. I don't want either of them to feel neglected.”

It was easy to see Lily had already bonded with her daughters and she wanted nothing to interfere with those bonds, not even another willing pair of hands giving her aid. He attempted to be reasonable, realizing he wanted to stay more than he wanted to go. “Right now, they need to have their basic needs met—feeding, changing and cuddling. They'll learn to know you,” he reassured her quickly. “They won't mind if someone else gives them what they need. In a few months, they'll both be more particular. They'll want you when they want you. So for now, take advantage of the fact that someone else can help.”

“You make it sound so simple,” she said with a wry smile. “And we know it isn't.”

No, nothing was simple. Besides the sheer enormity of the twins' birth, other feelings besides affection for Sophie and Grace were developing between him and Lily. However, neither of them were going to mention
those. No. They wouldn't be having that discussion anytime soon…which left the door wide open for his desire to cause trouble. Yet he still wanted to be close to her.

As he set Sophie on his knee to burp her again, he asked, “Will you take the babies upstairs to sleep tonight?”

“Yes. I want them to get used to their cribs. I've got to get the hang of breast-feeding both of them, but that might be easier to juggle during the day. I thought I might put a small refrigerator upstairs for night feedings.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I can go pick one up for you tomorrow.”

“But I'm paying for it.”

“Okay, you're paying for it.” He knew better than to argue.

With her gaze locked on his, he felt a turning so deep inside of him that he had to stand with Sophie and walk her back and forth across the room. She'd drunk three ounces of the bottle and that was good. Taking her to the card table, he unsnapped her Onesies so he could change her.

“Mitch, you don't have to do that.”

He glanced over his shoulder while he held Sophie with one hand and picked up a diaper with the other. “I don't mind changing her. But if you'd rather I didn't, I won't.”

Mitch guessed Grace was still locked on Lily's breast. Just imagining that—

“As long as
you
don't mind,” Lily finally said.

He seemed to be all thumbs with the small diaper, but he hoped Lily wasn't noticing. The tiny snaps on the Onesies were a challenge, too, but his left hand had
almost become as proficient as his right hand had once been—before shrapnel had torn into it.

Finally Sophie was ready for bed. Her little eyes were practically closed and her angelic face was peaceful. “I'll carry her upstairs and lay her in her crib. You can come up when Grace finishes.”

“I have receiving blankets up there on the side of each crib. Can you swaddle her in one? They're supposed to sleep better if I do that.”

“I'll try it.”

“And you have to lay her on her back.”

“I know, Lily.”

She flushed.

“After I put her to bed, I'll pull out a blanket and a pillow for the sofa. I remember where you got them.”

Lily nodded, but dropped her eyes to Grace and didn't look at him. If they didn't admit to the intimacy developing between them, then the intimacy wouldn't exist, right?

Right.

They were tiptoeing along a line in the sand, hoping neither one of them fell onto the other side.

He let out a pent-up breath he didn't even know he was holding when he left the downstairs nursery and headed up the steps, Sophie sleeping against his shoulder. The hall light guided him into the babies' room, where he grabbed the blanket and carefully wrapped Sophie in it on the changing table, murmuring softly to her as he did. Then he gently laid her in her crib and switched on the monitoring system.

After turning on the castle night-light by the rocker, he went to the hall for his bedding. At the closet, he glanced back at the room, almost ready to return and
wish the little girl a good night. But he knew he couldn't become attached, not to the babies any more than to Lily. Nothing was permanent. Everything ended. He had no right to even think about Lily in a romantic way. He had no intention of making life more complicated for either of them.

After Mitch went downstairs, he made up the sofa and sat on it, staring at the monitor. Sophie did look like a cherub with her wispy blond hair, her blue eyes, her little body that seemed more heavenly than earthly. Her tiny face turned from left to right and he wondered if she missed Grace already.

He was so engrossed in his reflections that he didn't hear Lily come into the living room until the floor squeaked. She was holding Grace in a sling that kept her nestled against her chest.

“Is Sophie asleep?” Lily asked.

“Come see.”

“I have to put Grace down, too.”

“A couple of minutes won't matter. Come here.”

Lily just stared at Sophie, her sweet sleep as entrancing as her little nose, long eyelashes and broad brow. “The monitor is wonderful, Mitch,” Lily said in a low voice. “But they're so small. I'll probably be going in every fifteen minutes to check on them.”

“You need your sleep. I'll be watching from down here. How about if I stay awake until the first feeding?”

“You need your sleep, too.”

“I'm used to not sleeping. I was a trauma surgeon, remember?”

She remembered and unintentionally her gaze went to his arm and his hand.

Self-consciously, he moved it and balled it into a fist. Though he expected her to move away, she didn't.

“Do you think about what you used to do very often?”

“Often enough. But that was then and this is now. Why don't I walk you upstairs? We'll make sure both babies are settled.”

Lily took one last look at the image on the monitor and then crossed to the stairway. Mitch waited a beat or so and then followed her.

 

Upstairs, by the glow of the night-light, Lily took Grace from her carrier and wrapped her in a blanket as Mitch had done with Sophie. After Lily laid Grace in her crib, she stooped over the baby and kissed her forehead. “I love you, sweet girl. I'm glad you're home.”

Then she moved to Sophie's crib and did the same.

Aware Mitch hadn't come far into the room, Lily glanced at him as he stood by the chair, his arms crossed over his chest—watchful and distant.

When he'd arrived at the house earlier and come into the downstairs nursery, she'd felt so many emotions that they'd tumbled over each other. Yes, she'd been embarrassed. But she'd also felt a little proud. Only a few moments had passed until she'd realized she
should
feel embarrassed. And then she had.

As they'd put the babies to bed, though, the situation had seemed right. Mitch handled them so well…so comfortably…so like a father. Sometimes she could see the affection he felt for them. But other times, he removed himself.

Like now.

He fell into step beside her as she left the nursery
and walked down the hall to her bedroom. At her door, she was ready to say good-night, ready to fall into bed, exhausted from the stress, the worry and the joy of bringing the babies home today. Yet a simple good-night didn't seem adequate and when she gazed into Mitch's eyes, she couldn't look away.

He seemed to have the same problem.

There was something about him standing there, perfectly still, his shoulders wide enough to block the doorway, his height filling the space. Maybe it was the sight of him without his tie and with the first few buttons of his white shirt open. Maybe it was her reaction to the black chest hair peeking out. Maybe she thought about all he'd done for her. Maybe, for just a short time, she gave in to the thought that she might
need
someone to watch out for her. She only knew that thoughts weren't running through her brain as fast as heat was flashing through her body. She wasn't thinking at all when she leaned forward. Rather, she was feeling and wishing and hoping and remembering what it had felt like to be held by a man.

Her babies were so little. Her life had been torn apart. In the midst of caring for her girls and forging ahead, her attraction to Mitch seemed to be a living, breathing entity that at that moment she couldn't deny.

When his strong arms enfolded her, she felt safe. As he murmured her name, she felt cared for. He lowered his head and she lifted her chin. Their lips met.

Lily's senses whirled and she couldn't deny a longing that came from deep within. As Mitch's mouth opened over hers, she lost all sense of time and place. All she cared about was now, the rush of wanting, the scent of
Mitch that was new and exciting, the thrill of feeling like a woman again.

Suddenly her womb tightened as it did when she nursed the babies. Troy's daughters.

What in God's name was she doing?

As suddenly as the kiss began, she tore away. The expression on Mitch's face told her he knew why. She clamped her hand over her lips and tears rushed to her eyes. She saw that determined look come over Mitch and she couldn't face it, not tonight.

“Talk to me, Lily,” he coaxed gently.

She shook her head. “I can't. Not now. Maybe in the morning.”

“Do you want to let us both stew all night when what you need is sleep?”

“It was a mistake.”

He sighed. “Maybe that's one of the things we need to talk about.”

When she remained silent, he stroked a tear from her cheek, finally agreeing. “All right. Go to bed. I'll be here if you need help with the babies during the night.”

“Mitch, I'm sorry.”

He put his finger gently over her lips.

Backing into her room, she closed the door. She heard his boots on the wooden floorboards, his tread as he walked down the stairs. Then she collapsed on her bed, not even taking her clothes off, shutting her eyes and praying sleep would come quickly.

 

The following morning, Mitch made scrambled eggs while Angie and Lily fed the twins in the upstairs nursery.

He'd crossed the line last night. He'd known physical
contact with Lily was taboo. But it hadn't been until his lips had touched hers that he'd realized how truly vulnerable she was.

He'd damaged their relationship and he didn't know if he could fix it. But he had to get the old one back—he'd made a promise to Troy.

When Angie had arrived home after midnight, the twins had been starting to stir. She said she'd help him feed them so Lily could sleep. But Lily had heard them, come in, taken Grace from Angie and told her to go to bed. She'd hardly glanced at him.

They'd fed Grace and Sophie in silence. When the twins woke again at four, they'd both fed them again. Mitch had never actually appreciated how complicated this was for women. They hadn't recovered completely from giving birth and they had to use reserves they didn't know they had to combat sleep deprivation, fatigue and chores that seemed to multiply with each hour.

And what had he done? Stirred up something that was better left alone. He didn't know if Lily was ever going to look him in the eyes again.

He'd just switched off the burner when she and Angie rolled in a double stroller. Grace and Sophie looked as if they were content and almost asleep.

Crossing to the refrigerator, Angie pulled out milk and orange juice, snagging the coffeepot and bringing it to the table. “You should go back to bed,” Angie told Lily as they pulled out their chairs.

“I have laundry to do, and I want to make up a couple of casseroles and freeze them so we can just pull them out this week if we need them.”

Although Mitch sat at the table with them, Lily
glanced down at her plate. She picked up a slice of toast, took a bite and set it down again.

For the next ten minutes, the lump in Mitch's chest grew as he and Angie made conversation.

Finally, his breakfast eaten, he asked Lily, “Can I talk to you for a minute before I go?”

Her attention automatically went to her daughters, but Angie reassured her quickly. “I'll watch them. Go ahead.”

There were so many things he wanted to tell Lily as they stood in the foyer. But he couldn't think of one. She was wearing jeans and a pink sweater and looked as if she were going to face the new day with determination and courage, the way she always did.

He knew what she wanted to hear from him, so he said it. “You were right. Last night was a mistake. I was out of line.”