His Unexpected Twins. Carrie Nichols

public.”

      Ellie raised her eyebrows, but her eyes glinted with mischief. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

      “Lies and exaggerations. Don’t believe a word you hear and only half of what you see.” He pulled a face.

      “Uh-huh, sure.” She laughed and went back to dishing out cake.

      Her laugh washed over him and he arranged the plates so the empty ones were closer to her. People had begun lining up at the other end of the string of tables, but no one had reached the dessert station yet. He took advantage and hurried to Ellie’s side of the table. He could help hand out the cake. Yeah, he was a regular do-gooder and it had nothing to do with standing next to Ellie and breathing in her light, flowery scent. “Why don’t you want to go to this wedding with me?”

      Ellie shook her head. “I’m not looking for a pity date.”

      He sighed. If she knew where his thoughts had been, she wouldn’t be saying that. Besides, it wasn’t like a real date because they’d be friends hanging out together. As simple as that. “So how do I appeal to your better nature and get you to take pity on me?”

      “What? No. I meant...” she sputtered, her face turning pink again. She made what sounded like an impatient noise and put the last slice of cake on a plate.

      He shouldn’t, but he enjoyed seeing her flustered and if he was the cause, all the better, because she certainly had that effect on him. “How did you do that?”

      She looked up and frowned. “Do what?”

      He could get lost in those eyes. Focus, McBride. He cleared his throat and pointed to the last cake square on the plate. “You made those come out even.”

      A smile spread across her face and she glanced around before leaning close. “It’s my superpower.”

      “I’m intrigued,” he whispered, but he wasn’t referring to cake or plates.

      She straightened and turned her attention to a woman who appeared in front of them. “Hello, Mrs. Canterbury. Cake?”

      After the woman had taken her cake and left, he bumped his hip against Ellie’s. “Whaddaya say, Harding, help a guy out. Do your good deed for the month and come to this wedding with me?”

      She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? So I can perform CPR on the women who faint at your feet?”

      Liam threw his head back and laughed. He spotted Meg watching them, a smug expression on her face. He’d deal with his sister later. Maybe he could interest Fiona in a drum set or buy James, who would be walking soon, a pair of those annoying sneakers that squeaked.

      Except he was intrigued by the idea of going with Ellie, so he gave her what he hoped was his best puppy-dog face. “Please. I hear it’s the social event of the season.”

      “Oh, brother,” she muttered and rolled her eyes.

      Why had it suddenly become so important for her to say yes? He should be running the other way. Ellie didn’t strike him as the sort of woman who did casual, and that’s all he was looking for—with Ellie or anyone. Keep it light. No more wrenching losses. But that damn image of holding her while dancing, their bodies in sync, sometimes touching, wouldn’t go away.

      “How long are you staying in Loon Lake?”

      Her question dragged him away from his thoughts and he frowned. “Exactly when is this wedding?”

      “You missed the point. That was my attempt at changing the subject,” she said, and greeted an elderly woman shuffling past.

      Liam smiled at the woman and tried to hand her a dessert.

      The woman shook her head and held up a plate loaded with meat loaf, potatoes and green beans. “Gotta eat this first, son.”

      Liam nodded, put the dessert back on the table and turned his head to Ellie. “I’ll be here for a month.”

      “Goodness gracious, son, it won’t take me that long to eat,” the woman said before meandering off to find a seat.

      Ellie giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and he couldn’t look away. She’s Meg’s friend. Are you forgetting about cancer and how much it hurts to lose someone? Sure, she was in remission, but there was a reason that term was used instead of cured. In his mother’s case, the remission didn’t last. Ellie was off-limits for so many reasons. But that message was getting drowned out. “So, you’ll go with me to this wedding?”

      “Look, Liam, I appreciate the offer, but—”

      He leaned closer, dragging in her scent, and tilted his head in the direction of his sister. “It might shut her up for a bit. Let her think she got her way.”

      “Hmm.” Ellie sucked on her lower lip for a second, then shook her head. “Nah. It’ll just encourage her.”

      “It’ll throw her off the scent if we hang out for a bit. We’ll know that’s all we’d be doing, but she won’t.” He’d lost his ever-lovin’ mind. Yup, that must be the explanation for pursuing such an idiotic suggestion.

      Ellie smiled and continued to hand out the cake. Although she had fewer freckles than she had as a kid, she still had a sprinkling of them high on her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. He wouldn’t have thought freckles could be sexy, but on Ellie they were, and he had to fight the urge to count them by pressing his fingertips to each one. Or better yet, his tongue.

      “But we won’t really be dating?” she asked during a lull in the line of people.

      “Did you want to date?” What the hell was he doing asking such a loaded question? He handed out the last piece of cake to an elderly man in a Red Sox baseball cap.

      “Meg means well, but it might be nice to take a break from her matchmaking efforts.” She picked up the plate with the frosting-side-down slice and held it up. “Split?”

      “Sure.” He reached for the fork she offered. His fingers brushed hers as he took the utensil and their gazes met. “Thanks. Looks delicious.”

      Her cheeks turned pink, making the tiny freckles stand out even more. As if they were begging for someone—him—to run their tongue along them. He cleared his throat and jabbed his fork in the cake.

      “So, whaddaya say, Harding, do we have a deal?”

      She shrugged. “Sure, McBride, why not?” Someone called her name and she turned away to leave but said over her shoulder, “We’ll talk.”

      He set the fork on the empty plate and watched her disappear into the kitchen. She never did answer his question about wanting to date. Not that it mattered, because they would be hanging out. No dating. No relationship. Nice and safe: the way he preferred it.

       Chapter Two

      “Check out the guy who just walked in.” Stacy, the triage nurse on duty, elbowed Ellie.

      Ellie looked up from the notes she’d been studying to glance out the large glass window into the emergency waiting area. Her heart sped at the sight of Liam dressed in jeans and a dark blue Red Sox championship T-shirt approaching them. She hadn’t seen him since the community luncheon two days prior, but he hadn’t been far from her thoughts. If Stacy hadn’t spotted him first, Ellie might have wondered if he was figment of her overactive imagination.

      Ignoring Stacy’s obvious curiosity, Ellie opened the door to the triage area. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

      “Hey, yourself.” He gave her that sexy half grin that threatened to leave her in a puddle.

       Janitorial, mop up triage, please.

      She clutched the clipboard across her chest as if it could protect her vital organs like a lead