His-And-Hers Twins. Rita Herron

      “I’m sure,” Paige said softly. “Go on back to the girls.”

      “Oh, yeah, right.” The girls. Geez, he’d almost forgotten. What kind of father was he?

      “Well, I’ll see you.”

      “Yeah, see you.”

      “Good night, Paige.”

      “Good night.”

      Zeke slowly walked back to his house, his thoughts jumbled. He liked Paige, and he was undeniably attracted to her. But he had to focus on raising his daughters.

      Back inside, he yanked off his clothes, took a quick shower and collapsed into bed. It had been an exhausting day. As he closed his eyes, images of Paige’s flushed skin, her rosy lips, her high cheekbones and dainty nose, her glorious auburn hair, her curvy, sexy legs taunted him. He missed having a woman’s body snuggled up next to his, his legs tangled with her silky, smooth skin, her soft breath whispering against his face.

      Problem was, he didn’t just want any woman. He wanted Paige Watkins.

      Reality shattered his dreams when he rolled over to the empty space beside him and felt the crisp cool sheets. He couldn’t have Paige. And if he pursued her, he’d be on a collision course with trouble.

      So once again, he went to sleep. Alone.

      PAIGE SHOVED THE embarrassing memory of Zeke seeing her practically naked from her mind and tried to salvage her project. Unfortunately, Zeke’s heated gaze and sexy smile popped into her head at the most inopportune times. She’d stuck herself about twenty times with a pin and had almost sewn her finger on the sewing machine. Finally, around 3 a.m., she finished the dress and sat back to admire her work. She’d fashioned a tea-length semi-formal dress that dipped off one shoulder. The tapered skirt accentuated a woman’s normal curves while drawing attention to her best features. Around 4 a.m., she stumbled into bed and closed her eyes.

      Zeke’s unbidden image drifted through her dreams but this time, Zeke was undressing her. And this time, she blushed from excitement and passion. Then she undressed him, savoring every delightful moment as his bronze skin and rippled muscles were unveiled.

      At 5 a.m., Paige woke up from her dream with the sheets tangled around her, her head throbbing from lack of sleep. Shocked at her lustful thoughts she leapt out of bed, threw on her jogging clothes and ran out the door.

      Forty-five minutes later, she returned to the house, her energy renewed. The neighborhood had been filled with early morning walkers and runners and the fresh air had cleansed her senses. She showered, planning to have breakfast and study her marketing before she headed to her 9 a.m. class. But when she stepped into her kitchen, there sat the troublemaker—Henrietta.

      “COME ON, GIRLS, we need to leave.” Zeke buttoned his white shirt, tucking it inside his pleated navy trousers.

      “But I can’t find my shoes,” August said.

      “Try your feet.” Zeke pointed to her bright yellow sneakers.

      “Not these.” August rolled her eyes. “They don’t match my blue dress.”

      “I see.” Actually, he didn’t. Being color-blind definitely had its limitations.

      “Here they are!” Summer held up another pair of shoes.

      “Bailey’s bringing his grandma, too,” August said. “’Cause his mom is a ’portant psych…head doctor.”

      Zeke clamped his mouth together to prevent a chuckle, grateful at least one other child had a substitute mom for the tea. The telephone jangled and Summer and August raced to it, fighting over who would answer. After a few seconds of wrestling, they finally compromised and held it between them. But their faces instantly crumpled before him.

      “Grammy can’t come to the tea!” August wailed.

      “She’s throwed up her waffles.” Summer’s lower lip trembled, then she promptly burst into tears.

      His heart jumped into his throat as he grabbed the phone. “Hello, Mom. Are you okay?”

      “Listen, Zeke, I’m so sorry, but I have the flu.” His mother’s voice sounded weak. “It’s one of those twenty-four-hour bugs, but I don’t want to expose the girls.”

      “Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry you’re ill.” Zeke rubbed his temple, trying to talk over the sound of Summer’s wailing. “Sure, Mom, I understand. I hope you feel better.”

      “Tell the girls I’ll make it up to them. They can spend next weekend with me.”

      Sympathy for his mother softened his voice. “It’s okay. These things happen. The girls understand.” He grimaced, hoping he sounded halfway convincing. He had a feeling his mother could hear Summer bellowing and August kicking her feet against the steps. He expected August to start throwing things any minute.

      “You know I’ll be glad to keep the twins if you want to go out sometime, son. There’s a couple of attractive single women in my church, women who like to stay home—”

      “I’m not interested, Mom.”

      “You’re not still pining for that awful woman, Renee, are you?”

      “No.” Zeke gritted his teeth. “I don’t care if I ever see her again.”

      “Good. I told you she wasn’t right for you. But I’ll help you find someone—”

      “Mother, I don’t need you to help me—” he paused to rein in his temper “—except with the girls occasionally. Now get some rest. I’ll call you in a day or two.” He hung up the phone, uncertain how to handle his daughters’ disappointment.

      “I’m not going to school!” August yanked off her shoes and tossed them into the corner. The shoes banged against the wall and bounced off with a loud thud.

      “Me neither.” Summer poked out her bottom lip.

      “Girls, listen,” Zeke said, feeling forlorn himself. “Grandma can’t help getting sick. I know you’re disappointed—”

      “You don’t know anything!” August yelled. “You don’t have to go to school without a mommy, not even a subst…a pretend one!”

      Zeke sank into the chair beside the phone and dropped his head, despair momentarily filling him. Maybe he didn’t know anything. He kept telling himself he was doing the best he could. But what if it’s not enough?

      The doorbell rang, giving him a moment’s reprieve, and when he opened the door, Paige stood on the other side, Henrietta in hand.

      Was she still upset about the night before?

      Paige pointed to the ground where Henrietta lay sprawled on her belly. “Henrietta seems to like my place.”

      Summer’s bellowing drowned out his reply. August ran over and flung herself at Paige, knocking her off balance.

      “What’s wrong?” Paige’s brows crinkled in concern.

      “We don’t wanna go to school,” August wailed.

      “We can’t go today.” Summer sat up and rubbed her puffy, swollen eyes.

      Paige patted August’s back. “Why can’t you go, sweetie?”

      Zeke frowned, a headache forming behind his eyes. “They’re having this Mommy and Me Tea at school and my grandma was supposed to go—

      “’Cept she’s sick,” August said, sniffling.

      “She’s upchucking,” Summer cried.

      He frowned at the girls. “You have to go to school, girls. Dad’s already late for work. You don’t want the sick animals to get sicker because I’m not there, do you?”

      August hedged, chewing her lip. Summer sniffed and swiped