A Promise For The Twins. Melissa Senate

he said.

      She gave him a bittersweet smile. “Well, my grandmother named this business Dream Weddings when she opened up shop in this very room, twenty-seven years ago. I promised her in the hospice last year that I’d run the business just as she had, with everything she taught me. My job is to make brides’ dreams come true for their big day. And no dream is silly or wrong or too small or too big. That’s what Gram always said.”

      A wistful expression filled her eyes, and he could see how much she missed her grandmother. He knew from Will Parker that Brooke was all alone in the world—no parents, no other family. Couldn’t be easy raising twins under those circumstances. And running a business, to boot.

      Family businesses, family ties. He also full well knew the grip those could have. He’d let go. But not everyone could or would, was willing, or wanted to. Brooke spoke of her grandmother with love and reverence and seemed to truly like her job, so it was clear her family ties weren’t like the rope he’d had to cut with a sharp knife.

      “Well,” she said. “Why don’t we talk in the house. It’s close to lunchtime for Morgan and Mikey.”

      He looked at Brooke in her fancy outfit, with two babies to feed, no nanny and work to do, given the project she had in front of her to secure the Satlers’ weddings. And then he heard Will Parker’s voice in his head, usually so light and full of devilish mischief, asking something of Nick with regret and sorrow in his tone.

      He could certainly be of help while he was here, relaying Will’s message.

      “May I?” he asked, ready to scoop up Morgan. The little guy wore orange-and-white-striped footsie pajamas. He—and Mikey—both looked a lot like Brooke, but he could see hints of Will.

      “Sure, thanks,” she said, picking up Mikey.

      The beautiful baby boy in his arms reached up and poked his cheek. He smiled. “Hi. I’m Nick.”

      Morgan drooled in response.

      Brooke laughed and pulled a burp cloth off her shoulder. “Here. I made the rookie mistake of not having this close enough earlier.”

      He took the burp cloth and gave the little lips a dab, then put the cloth on his shoulder, but that felt remarkably stupid, so he just held on to it.

      He followed her through an arched doorway, into a living room with a baby play area off to the side. A big carton with one side open was against the wall, with a picture of a white bookcase on the front, a set of instructions and a toolbox next to it.

      “Haven’t gotten around to putting it together yet?” he asked.

      She sighed. “I keep meaning to. It’s for the twins’ nursery. But then it’s time to feed them or put them down for their nap, or the phone rings or a client comes over. This morning I got the twins out for the gorgeous summer morning air and a Java Jane’s run, fully intending to come home and at least start the bookcase, but then the Satler sisters got engaged and securing them as clients became everything.”

      He nodded. “Well, sounds like you did just that.”

      “Thanks to you. If you hadn’t walked through the door and reminded them of high school before changing Mikey while singing a lullaby, they would have run screaming out of my office, straight to my competition.”

      “Well, then I’ve already fulfilled some of my promise,” he said.

      She tilted her head. “Promise? What do you mean?” The moment the words were out, she slightly shook her head as if she didn’t really want to know and kept her gaze off him, so he stayed quiet.

      She put Mikey in the baby seat on the kitchen table, and he did the same with Morgan beside him. She made up two bottles, and he couldn’t help but notice the sink was full of dishes, despite the dishwasher right next to it. A basket of laundry—whether clean or dirty, he wasn’t sure—was beside one of the chairs. Clearly Brooke needed help—the nanny she’d advertised for so that she could operate her business and take care of the everyday stuff.

      Yup, she wasn’t waiting for his answer, which made him think she wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. She went into the living room and put the two bottles on the coffee table, then came back into the kitchen and picked up Morgan. He picked up Mikey and followed her, settling next to her on the couch.

      He watched the way she laid Morgan slightly upright, giving the baby the bottle. He did the same with Mikey, then was about to answer her question. About the promise.

      “Have multiples yourself?” she asked before he could. “Is that why you’re so good with Morgan and Mikey?”

      He almost laughed. “Kids? Me? No. Not the marrying kind, not the dad kind. I got some unexpected baby-care experience overseas. Long story.” And one he wasn’t interested in talking about. The less he thought about what he’d been through in Afghanistan, the better.

      “Well, it’s nice to have someone else to help so they can both eat at the same time,” she said. “I had a wonderful nanny the first two months, but she had to leave town to help her own daughter. I guess I’ve been so focused on taking care of the twins that I’ve neglected everything else. I’m sure you noticed the state of the kitchen.”

      “You’re busy and on your own,” he said. “A single mother, raising baby twins alone, running a business—something has to be put off, and it sure as hell should be the dishes.”

      She laughed. “Right? I agree.” The smile faded fast and she slid a glance his way.

      He tilted the bottle up as Mikey drank it down, then inwardly sighed. This was not going to be easy.

      “So, about the promise you made,” she said. She closed her eyes for a second as if bracing herself again, then opened them, keeping her attention on the baby in her arms.

      He cleared his throat. “Will asked me to check on you and to pass along a message.”

      She stared at him hard. “He asked you to check on me? Why? It’s been nearly a year since he sent me a Dear Jane email, so I’m surprised he cares one iota about me—or the twins.”

      “Will was killed six weeks ago,” he said as gently as he could. But there was no gentle way to say such a thing.

      He lowered his head out of respect for the fallen soldier, and to give Brooke some privacy with her emotions.

      “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “What happened?”

      “IED—improvised explosive device. I might have been killed if he hadn’t thrown himself on top of me. He took the brunt of it.”

      “Oh God.” She shook her head.

      “Will and I had never been close or even friends, really. But we were from the same hometown, and that connected us. Maybe that was why he saved my life. Or maybe he’d always had that in him and I didn’t know it.”

      “That he could be a hero?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

      He nodded. “Will liked to make jokes, pull pranks. Never all that serious about anything. And then he saved my life. Can’t get more serious than throwing yourself on another soldier to protect him.”

      They were quiet for a moment, and she nodded.

      “Will was fading,” he finally continued, “but I could see he wanted to tell me something. He said there was a woman from Wedlock Creek, a beautiful, kind, good person named Brooke Timber, who he did wrong. Ghosted her when she told him she was pregnant with twins, then sent an email that he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood and they’d all be better off without him.”

      Her lips tightened. “That’s almost verbatim. All two lines of the email.”

      He glanced at her for a moment. She was waiting for him to continue. “Then Will said, ‘Garroway, will you check on her when you get home? Make sure she’s all right? See if she needs anything?’ And I assured him I would.