The Trouble With Twins. Jo Leigh

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The Trouble With Twins - Jo Leigh


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from the looks of him, he’s hungry. I know he’s thirsty.”

      “Uh-oh.”

      “Yeah.”

      She turned and poured a glass of filtered water, then handed it to him. “Stall him.”

      “Stall him?”

      “Go!”

      Gray nodded, then headed toward the CEO of Lattimer Spices, Inc. Damn it, Gray’s clothes were a mess. His hair—oh man, who knew what that looked like. Of all the damn times to—

      “There you are,” Lattimer said, his voice deep and booming. He grinned as he took the glass, then downed the liquid in several large gulps.

      Jem’s mouth hung open at the sight.

      “What’s wrong, young man? Haven’t you ever seen a thirsty fella before?”

      Jem shook his head, his gaze not leaving the big man’s face. Lattimer laughed. “You should see me eat!”

      “Jem, why don’t you go find Scout? I think she’s in the kitchen.”

      It was clear Jem was far more interested in the strange man. But when Gray gave him a private glare, Jem got moving.

      “Great kid,” Lattimer said. “Great. But I know you don’t want to talk children. You want to know what the high heaven I’m doing here on this fine Tuesday.”

      “Yes, I was curious about that.”

      “Sit down, son.”

      Gray obeyed, sitting across from the couch.

      “I’m here because I like to meet the people who want to work for me. Meet ’em away from the office. See what they’re like in the real world.”

      “That makes sense.”

      “It does. Especially in view of the considerable financial risks I’m about to take.”

      “I don’t think the risks are that big,” Gray said. “From what I can see, Lattimer Spices is ready for the expansion. You’re well capitalized. You’ve already got exposure via your catalogues.”

      “That’s right. But we’re not on every shelf in America, and that’s where we want to be.”

      Gray leaned forward as he jumped in with both feet and gave his spiel. No time like the present to wow the boss with his ideas. Lattimer kept nodding, which Gray took as a good sign. He interrupted a few times, but only for questions or clarification.

      “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

      Gray looked up at Shelby’s voice, then he checked his watch. He’d been talking for almost thirty minutes.

      “I thought you might want something to eat while you talk. And perhaps some nice cold tea.”

      Lattimer stood, and Gray followed suit. Shelby came around the couch carrying a large tray of food, which surprised him. The fridge had been less than bountiful, so where had this all come from?

      She set the tray down, then handed each of them a napkin. “Please, help yourself. Mr. Lattimer, how do you like your tea?”

      “It’s Jim, ma’am.”

      She smiled that kind smile. “Shelby.”

      He took a cracker from the tray. It had something on top, but Gray couldn’t tell what. “I like my tea sweet, just like my women.”

      Shelby laughed and handed him a glass. “Now, how come I already guessed that?”

      He sipped the tea. “It’s perfect.”

      “Ah, you’re just trying to flatter me.”

      “Flattering you is easy.” He drank again, nearly finishing the tall glass, but Shelby was ready with a pitcher. Lattimer popped the cracker in his mouth. As he chewed, his eyes widened, and Gray’s heart stopped beating.

      The big man swallowed. “What was that?”

      “Did you like it?” Shelby asked.

      “Heck, yes, I liked it.”

      “Good, because I made it with your mesquite rub.”

      “No.”

      She nodded. “Everything on the tray has been made with Lattimer spices.”

      He smiled, took a few more items from the tray, then sat on the couch. He ate a little sandwich, then slapped his knee. “Peanut butter, jelly and jalapeño?”

      “Right.”

      “Delicious.” He turned to Gray. “Go on. Try some.”

      Gray tried one of the crackers. It was good. Really good. Different. He looked at Shelby. She was smiling contentedly, and he wondered if she realized what she’d done. He’d never have thought of this. Even if he’d known Lattimer planned to stop by.

      “It’s too quiet,” she said. “I think I’d better go check on the twins.”

      “Thanks,” he whispered as she walked by. The next second, her cheeks were bright pink. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

      “Hell of a nice surprise,” Lattimer said as he folded his napkin and put it on the tray. “Now I’m not at all sorry your phone wasn’t working.”

      “About that,” Gray said. “The kids. They were playing hide and seek with all the telephones.”

      “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got kids of my own. They’re grown now, but my oldest, Darlene, she’s expecting.”

      “Congratulations.”

      He smiled as he leaned back. “My first grandchild. Of course Betty, she’s my wife, is jumping out of her boots. She’s buying every baby doodad from here to New York. She’s going to spoil the child something awful.”

      “I have the feeling she won’t be the only one.”

      He laughed. “You got it. I tell you, Gray, kids are everything. My family means more to me than all the money in the world.”

      Gray nodded as if he felt the same way.

      “There’s nothing that makes more of a difference in a man’s life.” He stared at the box of Lincoln Logs on the floor, his gaze fixed. Then he shook himself out of his reverie, slapped his knee and stood up. “I’d better let you get back to your day.”

      Gray stood, too. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, sir.”

      “The pleasure was mine.”

      They walked to the front door, and Lattimer stepped outside. “You thank that pretty lady for the wonderful food.”

      “I will.”

      Lattimer extended his hand. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and the missus come on over to my place on Saturday night? My secretary will call you with the details. If you find your phones, that is.”

      Gray shook his head. “Shelby—”

      The big man’s cell phone rang, and Lattimer whipped it off his belt like a six-shooter. “Lattimer.”

      Gray waited for him to get off the phone. But from the look on Lattimer’s face, he got the feeling it would be a while. Then Jim waved and pointed to his phone. He was leaving—before Gray had a chance to tell him that Shelby wasn’t the missus.

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