Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (18 page)

“I never told you to get lost.”

“Different words maybe, same meaning.”

“No. You and Nathan are worlds apart. Nathan is…creepy. You’re…tempting.”

A grin flashed. “Really?”

She punched his arm. “And so full of yourself.”

His smile faded. “You need help with him?”

“No. He’s in Chicago. I, on the other hand, am in Maverick Junction. I’ve been ignoring him. I’m not answering his calls or e-mails. He’ll get the picture.”

“You’re sure? You’d tell me if you needed help?”

“Absolutely.”

He studied her till she felt twitchy.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Six tonight? I know it’s early, but the boys hit the sack by eight, so I like to feed them by six thirty.”

“Sounds great. Why don’t you let me bring dessert?”

Ty’s gaze moved toward Dottie’s kitchen.

“No,” Sophie said. “I’ll make something myself.”

“All right. We’ll be looking forward to it. Do you remember the way?”

“You bet.”

Sophie lay back on the lounge chair, the drawing pad on her chest, and watched him walk away. Oh, he sure did fill out his jeans, coming and going. With a big sigh, she went back to work. The sun was shining a whole lot brighter than it had ten minutes ago.

When she shifted, the envelope crackled. She really wanted to throw it away without reading it. Did she dare?

Probably not.

Dropping her legs to the side of the chaise, she sat up and took a drink from her water bottle. Only then did she pull out the letter and unfold it.

Enough. She didn’t need to read more. She crumbled the note and threw it in the trash.

Nathan Richards was a self-centered, arrogant pain in the butt. Turning on her heel, she went upstairs to shower.

Juggling her dessert, Sophie closed the car door and stood looking at Ty’s house. So much for her resolution.

Problem was she liked Ty—a lot. And she could name a thousand reasons why that was a bad thing.

Lights welcomed her from every room of the house. A pair of tricycles littered the front yard, and she wondered where the third was parked.

Trouble raced around the corner of the house, and she let out a little squeal. Holding her plate high, she pointed a finger at him. “Stop. Sit.”

He did.

When the shock wore off enough she could speak, she said, “Good boy.”

The front door flew open, and three little bodies crowded into the opening. Trouble sprang up and tore toward them. Laughing, they all leaned down, giggling even harder as the pup gave them all kisses.

“Daddy’s busy,” Jesse said.

Jonah nodded. “Yeah, something’s burning in the kitchen.”

“I see.” She fought to keep a straight face. “Does that happen often?”

Three heads nodded solemnly.

“Then Daddy swears,” Josh said.

“Yeah.” The other two nodded and grinned.

Sophie listened to the running dialogue, each boy slipping in one sentence after the other without missing a beat. It was like one mind, three bodies.

“But we can’t tell Grandma,” Jonah said, shaking his head.

“Uh-uh. ’Cause we promised we wouldn’t.”

“Yeah. Grandma gives him heck when he does.”

“Boys,” Ty hollered from the kitchen. “Close the door. I can feel the draft clear back here.”

The smoke alarm chose that instant to go off, and the boys covered their ears. Josh’s lower lip trembled.

“Shit. On second thought, leave the door open, guys. We need to get this cleared out before Sophie comes. And remember, this’ll be our little secret.”

Jesse opened his mouth, but Sophie shook her head.

“Shhh, let’s surprise him.” She set the plate on one of the highest bookshelves, sent Trouble a warning look, then scooped up the still-distressed looking Josh.

She heard the back door open, then a window slid up. A finger over her lips, she tiptoed to the kitchen, the other two forming a giggling line behind her.

She stopped in the doorway. Ty, looking more handsome than any man had a right to, stood flapping a dish towel toward the open door. A pot sat on the stove, water boiling over. The oven door hung open and tendrils of smoke escaped.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

Ty dropped the towel and turned, looking for all the world like a five-year-old caught snooping under the Christmas tree. He looked from her to the boys.

“Traitors.”

“What’s that mean, Daddy?” Josh asked as Sophie lowered him to the floor.

“It means you’re supposed to sound the warning when the enemy shows up.”

“But Sophie’s not the enemy.” Josh wrapped an arm around her leg.

“And,” Jonah said, “the alarm was already sounding. It hurt my ears.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ty threw a disgusted look toward the stove, an apologetic one toward Sophie. “Afraid dinner’s going to be a little well-done tonight.”

“You should have come last night.” Jesse took her hand.

“Really?”

Josh nodded. “Grandma made beef stew. It was scumptus.”

“Uh-uh,” Jesse said. “It was good, wasn’t it, Daddy?”

“That’s what scrumptious means, Jess.”

“Oh.”

“Well, a day late and a dollar short as always.” Sophie tousled Josh’s hair. “That’s okay. We’ll make do.” Turning to Ty, she said, “How can I help?”

“You could mash the potatoes.”

As she drained them, he withdrew a pan of meat loaf from the still smoldering oven and studied it unhappily. “Afraid it’s too late to do anything about this, but I think we can eat the middle.”

He shot Sophie a glance. “Have you had all your shots?”

“Believe me, after my mom’s cooking, nothing fazes me.”

“Oh, yeah? She looked like the perfect June Cleaver mom.”

Ty passed her a bowl for the potatoes; she added a little milk and butter.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” She turned on the hand mixer she’d found half-hiding behind a cereal box. “There are times I worry myself, afraid I’m verging on OCD. Back in Chicago? If you walked into my studio, you’d probably die of shock. All my supplies are boxed and ruthlessly labeled, each tidily lined up on a shelf that’s also labeled.”

His brows creased. “Really?”

“And it’s all because of my mom.”

“So she
is
a June Cleaver clone?”

“No. She’s definitely
not
. As a kid, I hated the chaos that reigned in our house. My mom was careless—when it came to housekeeping, meals, laundry, schedules. Never about her family, though.”

“You love her.”

“I do. But I swore when I grew up, I wouldn’t live like that. In public, no one would guess. No one ever sees her as less than perfectly pulled together. She wasn’t careless with Dad and me, nor her looks or her clothes. But the master bedroom? Wow. It always looks as if it’s been struck by a cyclone—as does the rest of the place. When she steps out of the house, though…”

“So you need control and order to make up for that.”

“I guess I do, yes.”

“Good luck here at the Rawlins house, then. You’ll likely go crazy with three kids this close to the holidays.”

“Strangely enough, I don’t think so.” She moved to the fridge and traced the Christmas drawings stuck to the front of it with magnets.

“Day Care. Miss Marcy is big on arts and crafts,” Ty said.

“It’s nice.” She fingered the cotton balls that formed Santa’s beard. “I miss that about the holidays. The excitement on the faces of the little ones.”

“We’ve got plenty of that here.”

“No tree yet?”

“We’ll get around to it. Soon.” He sighed. “Never enough hours in the day. Do you want to get glasses out for their milk?” He tipped his head at one of the cabinets. “Maybe dig out some plates?”

“Sure.” She opened the door and saw plastic glasses, kids’ divided plates. Looking further, she saw no good china. No fancy casserole dishes.

“You know, I don’t mean to be nosy, and I sure don’t need it, but where is all your good stuff?”

“Good stuff?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

“Maggie told me you and Julia had a big wedding. I don’t see anything here that so much as hints at that. Everybody gets fancy stuff for wedding gifts they’ll never use.”

“I gave it all away. We didn’t have room in our little house for it, so Julia packed it all up. Said she’d wait to put it out in our new house. That didn’t happen, so I had one of the hands run it into Austin to Goodwill.”

“You didn’t keep anything?”

“Nope. Didn’t want or need it. The boys and I cope fine without it. End of story.”

“Okay.” She pointed at the nearest drawer. “Silverware in here?”

“Yep.”

While she set the table, raised voices, giggles, and a pup’s happy barking filled the house.

“Boys,” Ty called. “Run upstairs and wash up. Dinner’s ready.”

Such fun, Sophie thought, as they finished the chaotic meal with her dessert—cupcakes baked in ice-cream cones and decorated with icing and sprinkles. She’d loved them as a kid and enjoyed watching Ty’s boys devour them.

Later, she sat in front of a crackling fire, enjoying a cup of tea. From overhead, the sounds of three very buzzed little boys getting ready for bed drifted down to her.

Trouble had scrambled up the stairs behind them, eager to take part in the routine. A spirited argument erupted over whose turn it was to have the pup in bed with him. Apparently, they took turns, and Ty was smart enough to have a chart. Jesse won.

“Can we say good night to Sophie?”

“Yes, but make it quick.”

Freshly bathed and dressed in superhero pajamas, they raced downstairs, launching themselves at her. She knelt down and doled out hugs and kisses.

Jonah wrapped his arms around her neck, then drew back to brush his fingers over her cheek. “You feel soft.”

“Thank you.” She reached up for his hand and kissed the back of it.

“You’re pretty, too.” He smiled and melted her heart. “Are you a mommy?”

She shook her head.

“We don’t have a mommy.” Josh wiggled beneath her arm to cuddle against her. “Do you want to be ours?”

She closed her eyes and pulled him closer, kissing the top of his sweet-smelling head.

A stair creaked, and she looked up to see Ty, hand on the rail, watching. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Boys, come on up to bed.”

“But, Daddy,” Jesse wailed. “Sophie didn’t answer our question.”

Our question, she thought. They were such a solid unit. Her thoughts scrambled, and she had no idea what to say.

Ty answered for her. “Sophie’s here as a guest, son. She doesn’t live in Maverick Junction. Her house is a long, long way from here.”

“But she could move, Daddy,” Jonah said. “We could help her. We could carry boxes and stuff.”

The other two nodded, their little faces serious.

“I have a job in Chicago, honey. I need to go back to it.”

“Get a new job here,” Josh wheedled.

“Mommies don’t need jobs,” Jesse said. “They stay home and bake cookies and food that isn’t burned. Right, Daddy?”

Brows raised, a half smile on her lips, Sophie looked at Ty. “What do you say to that, Daddy? Do mommies stay home to cook for their men?”

He met her gaze. “Not always, boys. Some mommies like to work. They do important jobs.”

“That’s okay, Sophie. We’ll let you work.” Jonah wrapped his arms around her neck again.

“How about, for tonight, I carry you up to bed and help tuck all of you in?”

“’Kay.”

Crisis averted. Within five minutes she stood in the bedroom doorway beside Ty as he turned out the boys’ light and wished them happy dreams.

“Sorry, Sophie. They don’t talk about their mom much. I don’t know where all that came from.”

“It’s okay.” She patted his shoulder.

He took her hand in his as they walked down the stairs. “How about coffee? Or some more tea.” He grinned. “Wine, maybe.”

“I’d better not. It’s getting late, and I’m still new to these roads. Time I headed home.”

“You afraid to be alone with me?” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Not on your life, Mr. Rawlins.”

“Good.” He pulled her close, and his lips dropped to hers.

She let herself go. Gave in to the moment. He tasted so good. So right. His tongue teased her lower lip, and she met it with her own, nearly cried out when he deepened the kiss and took still more.

Breathing heavily, he lifted his head. “Want to come back tomorrow night? I’ll do better than burned meat loaf. Promise.”

Oh, she wanted to. Very much. Too much. And so she said, “No. Not tomorrow. How about the day after, and I’ll bring dinner. My place is too small for all of you, or I’d have you there.”

“Sounds even better.” He walked her to the car and gave her another bone-dissolving kiss.

As she pulled out of his drive, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching her. Not just alone, she thought. Lonely.

S
ophie was a bundle of nerves.

“Settle down,” Dottie said. “Believe me, there isn’t a kid alive who doesn’t inhale macaroni and cheese and love every second of it.”

“But what if Ty’s kids are the exception?”

“They’re not. Trust me.”

“Okay.” She wrapped the loaf of barely cooled bread she’d baked herself from her grandmother’s recipe. It smelled heavenly.

Adding the creamed peas to her basket, she said, “These will satisfy the rule some fool made up about needing a veggie with every meal. Personally, I think it’s the stupidest rule ever…and therefore meant to be broken.”

Dottie laughed. “I’d bet the Rawlins kids have more than a few meals without veggies. Still, it doesn’t hurt to train them young.”

“As far as I’m concerned, the kids can have a food fight with them if they want. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”

“I’m leaving now.” Dottie gave her a quick hug and headed out the door. “You have a great time.”

“I will. Thanks for your help.”

Dottie stuck her head back inside. “I didn’t do a thing.”

“You gave me moral support.”

Sophie studied the contents of the basket again to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. All in all, not too bad, she decided. The mac and cheese hadn’t come from a box. She’d actually made it from scratch and had even grated her own cheese. How much that would mean to four-year-olds? Absolutely nothing, she guessed.

For some unknown reason, though, it was important her meal not only be edible, but delicious. She wanted to look competent to Ty, so for good measure, she’d added homemade brownies for dessert.

She checked her hair one last time. The difference in water was playing serious havoc with it.

She needn’t have worried. Ty and the Triple Threat devoured the meal with all the gusto of hound dogs. After they’d cleaned up, the boys begged to be allowed to stay up long enough to play one game of Candy Land, and Ty finally relented.

“I’m sure you’re used to a little more mature evening’s entertainment up there in the Windy City. We must be boring you silly,” he said as the boys shot upstairs to find the game.

She sent him a questioning look. “Do you really believe that?”

“What?”

“That I’m bored.”

When he shrugged, she punched him in the arm. “Cut it out, Ty. I’m here because I want to be.”

He shot out a hand and snagged her around the waist. “You here for the kids or for their daddy?”

Laughing, she tried to push him away.

He held tightly.

“Ty, what if they come down and see you hugging me?”

“I’ll tell them it’s my turn. They all got a hug. Now I want one.”

“You’re so bad.”

Trouble shot down the stairs first, followed by Jesse and Jonah.

“Hey, wait for me.” Josh took the corner too fast and hit the wall. His feet slipped out from under him, and he crashed headlong down the flight of stairs. Jonah turned and tried to catch him.

The impact knocked him off his feet, too, and he slid down the last two on his back with his brother.

“Josh! Jonah! Are you okay?”

Ty bounded to the bottom of the stairs. Josh made not a sound, just lay where he was. Jonah started to cry.

“Blood, Daddy.” He held up a hand smeared in red. It covered his shirt.

But when Ty yanked him up, he wasn’t the one bleeding. It was Josh, the crier of the group, who was now strangely quiet.

Sophie took Jonah from Ty, and he knelt beside Josh. Blood covered his face, his clothes. “Son, can you talk to me?”

“Uh-huh. I falled.”

“Yes, you did.” Ty picked him up and rushed him into the downstairs bath, blood dripping in their wake.

Sophie took Jonah to the kitchen sink and started wiping him off. Thank God, he had only a bruise on his arm.

“Sophie?” Ty called. “How’s Jonah?”

“I’m okay, Daddy.”

“Good. Can you come here, Tink?”

“Sure.” She set Jonah down on his feet and walked into the bath. Ty held a washcloth to the side of Josh’s head, putting pressure on it. “I think he’s gonna need some s-t-i-t-c-h-e-s.”

“Oh.” Her stomach went queasy, the mac and cheese roiling.

“Can you call Haley? See if she can come watch the other two? I don’t want to take them to the ER.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can handle things here.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” She threw him a phony smile, one that trembled a little on the edges. “We’ll do fine.”

“I’d argue with you about this, but—” He gestured at the little boy sitting on the sink, sobbing now.

“It hurts.” His lips quivered. Big fat tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with the blood there.

“I know it does, champ, but we’ll get you all fixed up in no time.”

“How? When Humpty Dumpty falled and broke his head, nobody could fix
him
.”

“You’re different. You’re one of the Rawlins triplets. You have magic powers.” Ty picked him up. “You’re sure?” he asked Sophie again.

“Positive.”

“We’ll be good, Daddy,” Jesse said.

Behind him, Jonah, still a little shaken, nodded.

Ty grabbed his keys and wallet, then turned to Sophie. “Your last shot at escape.”

“We’re fine,” she said. “Go.”

“Okay.” He and Josh were out the door.

She and the two boys stood at the window and watched Ty speed away with their brother. Sophie wrestled with a bout of panic. She’d never babysat in her life. Had never been alone with
one
child, let alone two.

She peeked at the faces glued to the window. They wouldn’t cry, would they? On a scale of one to ten, right now her fear level ran around a fifteen. She was more frightened than when she’d been stuck on an elevator—alone—afraid no one would ever find her. Or that she’d use up all the oxygen in the car and die before they did.

“Daddy’s gonna get Josh fixed.” Jesse hugged his brother.

“He’ll make him all better,” Jonah agreed.

Such absolute trust, she thought. How hard it must be to live up to that, day after day after day.

“Want to play Candy Land, Sophie?” Jesse ran to the game he’d carried downstairs, the one that had started it all.

Relief rushed over her. No tears.

“You bet.”

An hour and a half later, exhausted, the boys in their pajamas, the three settled on the sofa, the TV on low, a Spider-Man DVD playing. Jesse curled up beside her, and she put her arm around him. He leaned into her, then looked up at her and smiled tiredly. Jonah sprawled, his head in her lap, and sent her a shy smile. Inside five minutes, both were fast asleep.

She brushed dark strands of hair off their faces. In sleep, they looked angelic. All that massive energy on idle. A feeling she couldn’t identify, didn’t want to probe too deeply, crept inside her, filled her. Scared her.

Leaning her head back, she let sleep come.

Ty gently lifted Josh from his car seat. Poor little guy had been brave and even thanked the doctor after he’d finished the last of the stitches.

What a night.

What a frigging disaster.

He kept striking out with Sophie. Red soda on white silk. Burned meat loaf. Blood and stitches. He couldn’t win.

With Josh asleep on his shoulder, he quietly turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The lights were dimmed; all was quiet. And there on his couch was Sophie, his two boys curled into her. All three fast asleep.

And he knew.

In that moment, he lost his heart.

Shit!

Very carefully, he climbed the stairs and tucked Josh into bed. Moonlight came in through the window, highlighting the stark white bandage on the pale little face. They’d given him some Tylenol at the hospital, and Ty figured he’d sleep through the night, the worst of the trauma over. By tomorrow he’d be showing off his bandaged head and telling his hospital story to anyone standing still.

He headed back downstairs and carefully slid his hands beneath Jonah. The boy turned into him when Ty lifted him to his shoulder.

“It’s okay, bud. I’ve got you. Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay.”

Once he had Jonah safely in bed, he returned to the living room. Sophie hadn’t stirred. Ty smiled and wished he had the right to kiss her, to carry her to bed. But he didn’t.

And he never would. It wasn’t in the cards. And, all in all, that was probably a good thing. Wasn’t it?

Extracting Jesse turned out to be a little more difficult, but Ty managed it without waking him. One more trip upstairs, one more tucking in, one more kiss good night.

He stood in the boys’ bedroom studying his sons. Julia should be here with him. But she wasn’t and never would be.

She hadn’t played fair with him.

That was in the past. Couldn’t be changed.

Still, he took another minute before going downstairs to Sophie.

In the living room, he switched on a small table lamp and turned off the overhead light. Ferreting out the remote, he clicked off the TV and DVD player. The house was absolutely still. No refrigerator hum, no furnace. The fire in the fireplace had burned to embers.

Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he moved closer to the sofa to stand over Sophie. He knew he shouldn’t, but his body refused to listen to his brain, and he sat down beside her. One look at those red lips, parted in sleep, and he captured them with his own.

She made a sleepy little noise and brought her hand to his neck, drawing him closer still. Finally drawing back into the couch cushion, she said, “Nice wake-up.”

Then her expression became one of panic. “The boys.”

“Are in bed, Sleeping Beauty.”

“All of them?”

He nodded. “I found you all asleep here, cuddled up nice and cozy in front of the fireplace.”

“Your boys are wonderful, Ty.” She yawned and combed her fingers through her hair. “How’s Josh?”

“He’ll probably have a whopper of a headache in the morning, and, no doubt, will have a fit when the stitches have to come out, but he’s sound asleep, too. He did well at the hospital. I was proud of him.”

He moved in for another kiss, but she put a hand on his chest.

“I need to go home.” Her voice was sleep-husky.

“Why?”

“It’s late.”

“Stay with me tonight. Sleep with me.” He ached for her.

“The boys—”

“Are fine. I told you before, once they go to sleep, a semi driving through the house wouldn’t wake them.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Sophie, they’re sound asleep. My door has a lock on it.”

“Still…”

“How do you think kids end up with brothers and sisters?”

Sophie blushed.

“Their parents sleep together, darlin’. While they’re in the house.”

“But that’s just it. I’m not their parent.”

“No, you’re not.”

“So…”

He rubbed his hands over his face. “Here’s the thing. Most parents fall into all this naturally, without really thinking about it. The kids are always there. No big deal.”

Then he broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, I’ve never made love with them in the house, either.”

“But you
have
had sex since they were born.”

He shook his head. “Pathetic, huh?”

“Maggie said you hadn’t dated, but I thought maybe she was mistaken. Or you’d dated but kept it quiet.” She ran a finger down his arm. “Really? Four years?”

He swiped at the stubble on his jaw. “It’s been longer, actually. Pregnant with triplets, well, we had to be careful. The doctor issued a no-fly zone early on.”

“Oh, my gosh.”

He shrugged, conflicting emotions battering him. “It really hasn’t been a big deal. At first, it was grief. Then, well, I was flat-out too busy. Guilt and apathy played in it, too, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his cheek.

“How sorry?” He nuzzled her neck.

She lifted a brow. “Not that sorry.”

He dropped his forehead to hers. “You sure?”

“I can’t, Ty.”

“Can’t or don’t want to? There’s a huge difference, Sophie, and I don’t want to pressure you if this…if I’m not what you want.” He stared into her big brown eyes.

On a half laugh, she said, “Oh, you’re making this difficult. No wonder the boys are so good at wheedling.” She ran a hand through his hair. “The thing is I do want you, Ty. Too much. That’s part of the problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“That works for tonight, but what about tomorrow?”

He groaned. “I don’t remember this being so hard.”

Laughing, she dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Night, Ty.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

After she left, he turned off all the lights. Staring into the darkness, he told himself it was for the best. Hadn’t he promised himself no more heartache?

As he rubbed his chest, though, he wondered if it wasn’t already too late.