Married By Mistake!. Renee Roszel

He held her close, his breath warm against her hair. “You know. Slaying dragons. Rescuing damsels in distress.”

      She relished the harbor of his embrace and the comforting sound of his voice more than she could have imagined. Unfortunately, before she was ready to relinquish him, he stepped away. With a nod, he indicated the couch where Lucy’s infant nieces were lying, wide-eyed, in their makeshift bedding. “What do you say we rescue these little damsels?”

      She didn’t know how Jack managed it, but she actually felt good enough to smile.

      She shivered. The mild March day had turned mean and cold around midnight. The worst possible timing, considering everything.

      He must have seen her tremor, for he shrugged off his suit coat and draped it about her shoulders. His body warmth hovered in the fabric along with his pleasant, familiar scent. Gratefully, she slid her arms into the sleeves, hugging herself. The expensive garment swallowed her all the way past her fingertips, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t remember when she’d needed warmth so badly.

      When she looked at him again, he had lifted the babies in his arms and turned to go. She scurried after him toward the front entrance. For some reason, she recalled her odd, coincidental dream about Jack and couldn’t help but ask, “Did you call me darling in there?”

      She thought she saw a slight hesitation in his step, then a sharp glance her way, but couldn’t be sure, even under the full moon. He began to lope down the steps, his chuckle rumbling through the night. “Sure,” he said. “I call all you Crosby girls darling. It keeps me from having to remember your names.”

      She flushed, feeling ridiculous, and followed him down. “Sorry. I guess I was a little hysterical.”

      “Forget it.” He settled the twins into Helen’s open arms, then helped Lucy into the back seat of his luxury rental car. She was startled when he leaned inside. His expression serious, he reached out, smoothing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. “By the way, happy birthday, Luce.”

      He’d ducked out and was in the driver’s seat before she could react. As he started the engine, she smiled shyly, focusing on her knees. She should have realized Jack wouldn’t forget.

      One of the babies whimpered, and Lucy’s gaze shot to her little sister. “Helen? Is everything okay?”

      The new mother glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Though she looked tired, her expression was happy. “In such good hands as yours and Jack’s, how could anything be wrong?”

      Suddenly, Lucy found herself battling down an urge to burst into tears. It wasn’t until this moment—when the crisis was over—that she realized how out-of-her-mind stressed she’d been. Thank goodness the births had been normal.

      Jack lifted the receiver of his car phone. “I’ll call the Branson police. Elissa went there to report you two missing.” When he hung up, he relayed the message that Elissa would meet them at the hospital.

      Lucy sagged into the plush leather, grateful that Jack was here, handling everything.

      A dark thought intruded—the other thing—the Stadler thing—and she bit her lip hard, preferring pain to remembering. This was no time to think nasty, bitter thoughts about heartbreak and betrayal. This was a time for positive thinking. Her glance shifted to Jack’s wide shoulders, then slid forward to scan his long, tanned fingers, curled around the steering wheel. Yes, Jack was a positive subject. She would think about Jack.

      Jack had been their stepbrother fifteen years ago. Though he’d only lived in her father’s home for three years, and his mother, Rita Gallagher, had never allowed her dad to adopt him, the Crosby girls had refused to divorce Jack, even when his mother ran off with another man. Though he wasn’t truly a relative, he was very dear to them.

      As he chewed up the ten miles to the hospital, Lucy found herself wondering how it was that he seemed to sense when the Crosby sisters needed him.

      She marveled that he always seemed to be there.

      

      Lucy accepted the paper cup of vending-machine coffee that Jack handed her. The Skaggs maternity wing was located in the newest hospital addition. Its waiting room was typical of waiting rooms everywhere, unadorned, antiseptic. The alcove was painted in restful hues of turquoise and mauve, with footstep-muffling carpet that seemed unnecessary in the predawn silence.

      The furniture consisted of blond, wooden chairs butted armrest to armrest against the walls, the thinly padded seats of dark turquoise only comfortable enough for the most weary human being. But Lucy had no intention of going anywhere. She was that tired and that emotionally drained.

      Yet she was also grateful. The doctor had reported that Helen and the babies were going to be fine.

      “Where’s Elissa?” Jack sat down in the chair on her left.

      “Oh, you know Elissa. She’s pacing somewhere.”

      “That’s our Elissa. Little mother hen.” He placed a casual arm behind her. “How are you doing?”

      She knew he was referring to Stadler, but she didn’t want to talk about that. The pain of his rejection was too raw, too new. Taking a stalling sip of the burning drink he’d brought her, she nodded. “I’m great. Now that I know Helen and the babies are no worse for the wear.”

      “You did a good job.” He grinned down at her. The same, wonderful grin she’d found so comforting when she’d been a timid little girl, afraid of storms, creaking boards and barking dogs. Almost everything, really. Then big, strong Jack had come into their lives, apparently fearing nothing. Seven years her senior, he’d seemed quite grown-up when she’d been eight and he’d been fifteen. “You were smart to put that candle in the window, Luce.”

      She couldn’t help but return his smile, though her effort was weak. His scent wafted around her, familiar and welcome. “Thanks. I had no idea you’d be the answer to my prayer.”

      An enigmatic, almost pained, expression fleeted across his features. Lucy couldn’t imagine why, but whatever it meant, it was quickly gone. Probably fatigue. They were all reeling with exhaustion.

      He cleared his throat. “So, you and your nieces share a birthday.”

      She hadn’t thought of that. “I guess we do.” Her laughter bubbled, but lacked much humor. A yawn threatened and she covered her mouth with a hand. Peering up at the man beside her, she shook her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

      His smile, this time, was less visible. “Extremely. I got to the inn around midnight, after driving from the Springfield airport. When Elissa went to find you and Helen to tell you I was there, she discovered you’d never returned from your walk. We drove around looking for two hours before we split up and she went to the police station. That’s when I saw the candle in the mansion window.”

      “It was an afterthought. Helen couldn’t be left alone. The second baby took her own sweet time deciding to be born. I had to do something.”

      There was a long pause, and Lucy felt a little uncomfortable, unsure why. “Elissa told me about Stadler,” he finally said. “If you want, we can talk about it.”

      At the reminder, her muscles tensed and her heart constricted. All she could do was shake her head. She supposed she’d known the subject would have to come up. After a few strained moments, she managed, “I can’t.” Jack’s face was blurry and she blinked her vision clear. “Not yet. But thanks.”

      “No problem.” His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I can wait.” He pursed his lips as though working to change the subject, bless him. “Where’s Damien?”

      Grateful to have something else to think about, Lucy sighed. “He’s in the Denver airport, snowed in. His book tour is just about over. Two more cities.” She took another sip of coffee, then smiled with recollection. “When I talked to him a half hour ago, he pretty much said the tour was over as far as he was concerned. To quote him,