Twins For Christmas. Amanda Renee

this extensive. It was deceiving from the front.

      Noah zeroed in on the two sleeping figures curled up together on the white, slip-covered sofa at the far end of the room. He hadn’t anticipated that it would physically hurt to see them. There were two little lives less than fifteen feet away that he had helped create. Hannah reached out to wake them.

      “Don’t.” His whisper cracked in the silence. “Let them sleep. I need to process this.”

      “There’s a lot of that going around.” A bittersweet smile graced her lips. “Would you like to sit down?” She gestured to a pair of oversized beanbag chairs on the carpeted floor. “This is their playroom.”

      Noah sank into a chair, letting it envelop him. He chuckled, unable to remember when he’d last sat in something so ridiculously comfortable and fun. They remained silent for a few minutes, watching the twins sleep. His nerves began to fade as the girls’ rhythmic breathing relaxed him. He may have known Lauren for only one night, but her face had been ingrained in his memory. Where the girls had his eyes, they had her dark hair and rounded nose. All children were beautiful, but Noah felt as if his were extra special.

      “I know they look identical, but they’re fraternal twins,” Hannah said. “Cheyenne is an inch taller than Charlotte. And Charlotte has a tiny birthmark under her left eye.”

      One of the girls stirred and sat upright before he had a chance to ask any of the millions of questions swirling through his brain. As Hannah rose, the little girl climbed off the sofa and toddled to them. “Charlotte, this is a friend of your mommy’s. His name is Noah and he came to meet you.”

      Charlotte’s sleepy eyes blinked at him, still waking up from her nap. He had been right. Their irises were rimmed in black, the same as his were. “Go see Mommy?”

      Hannah sucked her lips inward and looked toward the ceiling before answering. “Maybe tomorrow. You’ve already been twice today.”

      Charlotte reached for Noah’s outstretched leg and pulled herself onto his lap. He held his breath. This little person was his child. His child was touching him. He stared down at her. She had little bits and pieces of him floating around inside her. It was a miracle—she was a miracle. And he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

      “It’s okay to breathe, you know.” Hannah smiled warmly at the two of them.

      He wanted to hug her for welcoming him into her home and allowing him to be there. He wanted to hug his daughter, but he didn’t know what was appropriate and what wasn’t. It felt surreal and natural at the same time.

      “So this is what twenty-one months feels like.” Charlotte played with the silver cross around his neck. “They’re smaller than I th—” Noah shook his head. “I don’t know how big I thought they would be. I’m still overwhelmed by this. I can’t even begin to imagine what they were like when they were born. I don’t even know when that was.”

      “Valentine’s Day. Which couldn’t have been more appropriate considering Lauren called them the greatest loves of her life.” A faraway look overshadowed Hannah’s smile. “They were good-sized babies for twins. I was in the delivery room when they were born. Charlotte was 7 lbs. 2 oz. and Cheyenne was 7 lbs. 6 oz. Between my parents and me, we have a ton of pictures.” She began to speak, then cut herself short. Tears filled her eyes. “Um, my mom and I weren’t able to take much from her house in Boston when we picked up the girls the other day. The company she worked for has someone packing her belongings and sending them to me. When they arrive, I’d be happy to share them with you. I think it’s important the children keep her memory alive, although at this age, how much can they possibly remember? Excuse me.”

      Hannah stood and climbed over the baby gate, disappearing down the hall. Tiny fingers touched the side of his face, rubbing the rough stubble. She giggled loudly, waking Cheyenne on the other side of the room. When Hannah reappeared, two pint-size angels were playfully attacking him with their stuffed animals.

      “I apologize.” She rejoined them in the sunroom. “Lauren’s dea—Her not being around any longer still doesn’t seem real.”

      “Neither does this.” Noah smiled down at his daughters happily playing on his chest. “Did you and Lauren grow up together?”

      “Play gently, Cheyenne,” Hannah said to the bouncing toddler. “We met in college and became best friends. Lauren didn’t have any family, so she came home with me on weekends, holidays and summer break. My parents thought of her as one of their own, so even though I was only a part of her life for six and a half years, she felt like a sister.” She scooted closer to the girls on the floor. “The twins strengthened the bond with my family even further. They call my parents Nanny and Grandpop.”

      Now Noah understood who Nanny was. “When did Lauren move to Boston?”

      “September.” Hannah stared into the distance. “Her leaving was hard...for all of us. My mom watched the girls during the day while Lauren went to work. Let me tell you—” she smiled, visibly fighting back tears “—my mom loved every second of it. These two have her—heck, all of us—wrapped around their fingers. But then it happened.” She sighed as the joy she’d expressed only a moment before slid from her face. “A pharmaceutical company in Boston offered Lauren a research scientist position. She was a biochemist—I don’t know if you knew that or not. Anyway, the job had incredible medical benefits, plus on-site day care and a relocation allowance. She would have been foolish to turn it down. Their new life had so much promise and it was hard to do anything other than wish them well.”

      “How did it—” Noah didn’t want to say the words in front of the girls.

      “How did it happen?” Hannah’s brows rose. “She hit a patch of ice on the way home from work. It was no one’s fault. Just a cruel twist of fate.”

      Noah felt the need to comfort her in some way but didn’t know how. I’m sorry didn’t seem like enough.

      “In case you don’t have plans for tomorrow...” Hannah hesitated. “You’re welcome to join us for Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. It’s loud and crowded, but it’s a lot of fun and there will be many people sharing stories about Lauren.”

      Thanksgiving had always been him, a couple of the guys and football. He’d been raised by an incredible single mom. She spent her holidays serving food to the homeless in a Portland soup kitchen but had always found time to make a special Thanksgiving breakfast for just the two of them. She never included whomever she was dating at the time. Not that any of them had paid him much attention anyway. And he never knew his dad or his dad’s side of the family. It was their special tradition and this was the first year he’d miss it. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

      He looked down at his daughters. Hovering multimillion-dollar helicopters above the tree line with two-hundred-foot logs swinging from a cable beneath him had always given him an adrenaline rush, but it was nothing compared to this.

      * * *

      HANNAH WAS NERVOUS Thanksgiving morning, which was ridiculous because she had no business being nervous about sitting down to a family dinner with the father of her best friend’s children. While she had to admit he was attractive—if you were into the tall, sandy-blond, mouthwatering Chris Hemsworth type—she didn’t have time to fawn over him. Or any man, for that matter. The clock was counting down to her next home inspection.

      Hannah closed the door on the grain room in the stables. After feeding and turning out her own four horses and the thirteen boarders, she still had to muck the stalls and collect the eggs from the henhouse.

      While everyone else slept off their food coma tonight, she’d be working on her house. And she still needed to find time to exercise her horse Restless for their barrel racing competition on Saturday. The prize money would about cover the cost of the raw materials necessary to pass inspection.

      Ironically, the house probably would have passed a couple of months ago. It had needed some serious TLC, but she hadn’t begun pulling everything apart until after Lauren left.