Название | His Valentine Triplets |
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Автор произведения | Tina Leonard |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408978108 |
“I second that,” Pete said. “Who would watch my three bundles of joy? Jackie needs help now more than ever.”
“I third that,” Creed said. “I’ve got my hands full with kinder now that Aberdeen’s expecting again. Her sister Diane living on the ranch with Sidney means three more toddlers on top of that. Who has the energy to keep up with all these children besides you, Aunt Fiona?”
She gave them all a leery glance. “Do not try to entice me with babies.”
“But that was The Plan all along, wasn’t it?” Judah grinned. “The Plan was to get us married and in the family way as quickly as possible. You wanted babies, and we complied.”
“And have been having a lot of fun doing it,” Pete said, and everyone booed him.
“It’s true, though.” Creed glanced around at his unwed brothers with a big grin. “The fifty percent of you who haven’t joined in Fiona’s Grand Plan don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Dirty diapers? Sleepless nights? Pint-size potties?”
Creed raised his glass. “Nightly lovemaking that you don’t have to go hunting for.”
“Afternoon quickies on call,” Pete said with a smile.
“Booty that has your name on it,” Judah said with a big grin, “and furthermore, has her name on yours, as much as you can stand it.”
Rafe blinked. “Jeez. Is it all about sex with you knuckleheads?”
“Yes,” his three married brothers said in unison, and Rafe sighed.
He knew exactly how they felt. If he could go home to Julie every night, he’d beg her to cook naked for him. He’d make certain she had see-through baby doll nighties that he could tear off her every night, a different one for every day of the month. He’d—
Damn. They’re getting to me. My own brothers.
He looked at everyone staring at him, and swallowed hard. Creeps.
“Anyway, what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Rafe said with a glare for the married side of the room, “is that if you leave, Aunt Fiona, you cede the field to Jenkins.”
“Which is a bad idea,” Judah said, “because you’ve been running Rancho Diablo for over twenty years. There’s no reason for you to let him run you off.”
“And besides,” Pete chimed in, “someone’s got to marry off the rest of our brothers. We don’t need half of us causing trouble in our bachelor phases.”
“Jonas, Sam and Rafe.” Creed shook his head. “My twin, Rafe, and Jonas, the eldest of the bunch, and Sam, the youngest of the bunch. I’d say we still need you, Aunt Fiona.”
“Don’t coddle me,” she said. “Don’t try to lure me with babies and matchmaking and spitting in Bode’s eye. I know what’s best, and what’s best is that Burke and I leave you men to unite against a common foe.”
They all stared at their tiny, determined matriarch.
“Damn,” Rafe said, “that’s pretty strategic thinking, Aunt.”
She nodded. “One of my better plots, I must say.”
He glanced around the large library. His brothers lounged in various positions, some looking lazy (but always ready for action), some rumpled (hard workers), and Jonas, who looked cranky, as always.
Rafe loved his brothers. They were a tight-knit band.
“But what if we don’t unite?” he asked. “What if we turn on each other?”
“Would you?” Fiona asked, looking at him.
“Hell, I don’t know. There’s a ranch at stake.” He shrugged. “Without your hand on the reins, we might go running wild through the New Mexico desert.”
“I doubt it.” Fiona’s voice was crisp. “Anyway, today’s flare-up has convinced Burke and me of what we’d been discussing since Bode launched his grab for your land. We think you are better off without me here to rile him. I’ve divided the ranch up into six equal parts. For the three of you who are married, I’ve put your portion in your name. For those of you who are not married, your portion is in trust, which you will receive upon my death or your marriage, whichever comes first. Without me here, I’d say it won’t be marriage.”
She nodded and took Burke’s hand. “It has been an honor to raise you. We love you like our own sons. We always did. There are a lot of questions you may one day want to ask, and when you’re ready, we’ll answer them for you. And remember that everything you think you know isn’t always what is. Take good care of each other, and most importantly, be brothers.”
Fiona and Burke made their way from the library. Rafe tried not to gawk at the departing figures of their aunt and uncle. “I think she’s serious.”
Sam nodded. “She really believes she’s the source of Bode’s anger. I say we just kill him.”
They all snorted at him.
“She can’t go back to Ireland,” Jonas said. “We need her here. She belongs here. Burke belongs here. They haven’t been back to Ireland in over twenty-some years. What are they going to do there?”
The brothers turned to stare at him.
“That is the most emotion I think I’ve ever heard you spew,” Rafe said. “I feel like I’m in the presence of the angel of human psyche.”
“There’s probably no such thing,” Sam said, “but that was pretty heavy, Jonas, for a tight-ass like you.”
Jonas threw a tissue box at them. “Go ahead, bawl your brains out. We all want to.”
“I’m not crying.” Rafe took a deep breath, not about to let himself get drizzly, although he did feel like a water balloon in danger of being punctured. Fiona’s decision had left him pretty torn up. “I’m going to convince Fiona she’s worried over nothing. I’m—”
They heard a door slam. The brothers glanced at each other.
“Must be going out to check on the horses,” Creed offered.
“Or to change her holiday lights. It’s about time for her to take down the Fourth of July décor-anza.” Pete nodded. “She left them extra long because all the little girlies liked them so much. She said her great-nieces should always have sparkly decorations to look at.”
Fiona was famous far and wide for her lighting displays. Rancho Diablo always looked like a fairyland, sometimes draped with white lights, sometimes colored—but always beautiful. “I want to wring Bode’s scrawny chicken neck,” Rafe said.
“I do, too,” Judah said, “but that’ll just land us in jail.”
“Miserable old fart.” Rafe couldn’t believe what had happened. His luscious Julie had to know that her father was beginning to go around the bend. Not that she would ever admit to such a failing in him, locked in her ivory tower of daddy-knows-best. “Maybe Bode has terminal dumb-ass disea…” Rafe stopped, listening to a sound that had caught his attention. “Was that a motor? A vehicular motor? Visitors, perhaps?”
Or Bode serving up more trouble.
The brothers looked at each other, then jumped to the many windows of the library to study the driveway in the dimming evening light.
“That is a taxi,” Jonas said, “and if I’m not mistaken, our aunt and uncle just bailed on us.”
Chapter Three
“I’m not sure what any of this means,” Sam said to Rafe