The Cowboy's Twin Surprise. Stephanie Dees

      Lacey reached for a file of papers she’d left on the passenger side of the truck, and when she turned back around she was eye level with three sets of well-worn boots. Her gaze skimmed the length of long denim-clad legs and stalled out at the world champion rodeo buckle at the waist of the jeans on the right before continuing upward to meet three identical sets of dark brown eyes.

      She gulped. The Cole brothers were unilaterally staring at her, and to be honest, it was a little bit intimidating. But at least she knew she was in the right place.

      Lacey flicked a glance at the one standing on the left side of Devin—the oldest brother, Tanner, she thought—and saw his unsmiling eyes travel from her to Devin and back again. Dark hair curled underneath a faded red ball cap. He settled it a little farther on his head and continued to stare at her.

      She swallowed hard as her vision grayed around the edges. Wow. She must be more tired than she thought she was.

      “Lacey? What are you doing here?” Devin’s words sliced through her exhaustion and, despite girding herself with all that anger, they still had the power to hurt her.

      She looked Devin Cole right in the eyes and said, “I want a divorce.”

      The color drained from Devin’s face, and she felt a perverse pleasure that she’d managed to shock him.

      “Divorce?” The other brother’s head snapped straight. “You’re married?”

      Devin remained unnaturally still.

      “I’ll just unload Reggie, then.” Tanner shifted away as if the tension strung between Lacey and Devin would snap under the pressure. He clambered down from the porch and lowered the back of the trailer. She could hear his voice as he spoke softly to Devin’s cutting horse, backing him gently down the ramp.

      Devin’s gaze never broke with Lacey’s, but he said, “Garrett, feel free to move along anytime.”

      The middle brother, with a mop of unruly dark curls and studious-looking glasses, shook his head. “Nope. Uh-uh. Sounds like you need legal representation. I’m not going anywhere.” He grinned. “Plus, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

      Lacey refused to be the first one to look away. But her head was spinning again, her husband’s handsome, serious face swimming before her eyes. She groped blindly behind her for the side of the truck, her file of papers slipping from her fingers to scatter on the ground.

      The last thing she saw before she crumpled was the fear on Devin’s face as he dropped his cane and leaped down the stairs, his strong arms scooping her up just before she hit the ground.

      * * *

      Devin lifted Lacey into his arms, concern for her blocking out all other thoughts. “Garrett, get a doctor out here.”

      “Want me to call an ambulance?”

      “No, she’s terrified of hospitals. Just call someone. Please?” Devin carried Lacey up the porch steps. He managed to pull the screen door slightly ajar and kick it open. Her face was pale—too pale—against the dark shine of her hair.

      He laid her gently on the wide leather couch, heart thudding in his chest. “Lace? Come on, girl, you gotta wake up. You’re scaring me.”

      Just when he thought he’d made peace with the things he’d done when he was using, she showed up with this gem. Married?

      He didn’t really question what he’d been thinking, but what had she been thinking marrying him? The last thing Lacey needed was to be married to a washed-up rodeo cowboy with a drug-addiction problem.

      Especially one who didn’t even remember their wedding even happened.

      Of all the stupid things he’d done that he didn’t remember, destroying his relationship with Lacey was the worst. She was the best thing that ever happened to him and he’d screwed it up, along with the rest of his life.

      But marriage? He couldn’t even fathom it.

      “Come on, Lacey, wake up. I know you still have a few things to say to me.”

      Garrett stepped quietly in the door, his cell phone and a bunch of papers in his hand. “Ash Sheehan is on his way.”

      Devin stabbed his fingers into his hair, worry settling into his shoulders like thousand-pound weights. “Isn’t he a kids’ doctor?”

      “Yeah. He’s also the only doctor in town. We can take her to the hospital, Dev. It’s probably what Ash is going to tell us to do anyway.”

      “I can’t.” Devin dropped on the coffee table in front of the couch, his ruined ankle aching now that the adrenaline had faded. He studied Lacey’s still form on the couch. Color was slowly returning to her face. “She’d kill me.”

      “She dropped these when she fainted.” Garrett slid the papers onto the table beside Devin and placed his cane within easy reach. “Tanner’s getting Reggie settled. I’m gonna go make some coffee. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

      Garrett disappeared into the kitchen, and Devin glanced down at the papers.

      There was a legal-looking stack, which he assumed was the divorce papers she wanted him to sign. He picked them up and glanced at the first paragraph before tossing them aside. As he did, another piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He leaned over and picked up the flimsy grainy black-and-white photo.

      His skin went clammy.

      He knew what this was. It was a still from an ultrasound. And this one had two arrows pointing at two tiny peanut-shaped blobs. He dropped the photo like it was on fire.

      Was Lacey pregnant?

       Chapter Two

      Devin scratched his head, his mind trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. Could Lacey really be expecting? Twins?

      He glanced at her stomach, but it didn’t look any different to him from how it always had. Maybe a little rounder. He studied her face. Maybe it was a little fuller? Her long dark hair curled past her shoulders, framing a peaches-and-cream complexion.

      She was so beautiful. Always had been.

      And in that second he imagined her holding two babies. Their babies. A tsunami of longing washed over him. It was a dream that seemed so far out of reach for someone like him.

      He picked the photo up again. Sure enough, her name was written at the top of the image. Lacey Cole. Seeing it in print was a punch to the gut.

      Lacey really was pregnant.

      Devin scrubbed his hands over his face. He remembered waking up in Vegas and seeing Lacey lying in his bed. Realizing that, with one monumentally horrible decision in a string of really bad decisions, he’d managed to mess up the one thing he still really cared about.

      That moment had changed his life.

      Her eyes fluttered open and slowly focused. Devin saw the instant she remembered what happened. She tried to sit up, arms flailing, pupils dilating in panic.

      He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to focus on him. “Lacey, you’re at Triple Creek Ranch.”

      When she looked confused, he said, “You brought Reggie home and you told me you want a divorce.”

      Her voice was a little hoarse and husky when she said, “Well, at least we got that out of the way.”

      The corner of his mouth twitched up. The bone-deep fear faded a little bit, but he was left with so many questions and no answers to speak of. “Seems like a pretty good call. I mean, honestly, what were you thinking, marrying someone like me in the first place?”

      Hurt