The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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some wipes. “I remember you being in town a lot for a while after.”
A long while, actually, Chase thought. “He had a nanny, too, but he needed family.”
Mitzy sent him a commiserating glance. “Don’t we all.”
They worked in silence. Unsnapping. Diapering. Until all four boys were clean, dry and comfy.
“Now what?” Chase couldn’t imagine how she faced this alone. Even for a moment. Although to her credit, all four babies were still calm. Patient.
Mitzy smiled, looking both grateful for and appreciative of his help. “We take them downstairs.”
A feat that took two trips for each of them. He was looking forward to giving bottles, too. Would have, if a few members of Mitzy’s volunteer army of other women hadn’t arrived.
The next thing Chase knew, the two helpers were with the babies, and he and Mitzy were alone on the front porch.
She’d waved off his offer to wait while she got a jacket—probably because she wanted to keep this goodbye short—and instead stood, arms crossed in front of her chilled breasts. “So about what we were talking about earlier. I know you have your own work to do during the days.” She lifted her chin to search his eyes. “Would it be possible for you to get started helping me tomorrow evening?”
The sooner he could make inroads on restoring his friendship with Mitzy, the better. “Sure,” he agreed, glad to help her in any way he could. Even if she wasn’t exactly making it easy. “What time?”
She raked her teeth across her lush lower lip. Shivering harder now. “Between eight and ten?”
Chase felt the sharp urge to haul her against the warmth of his body and kiss her again. But instead, he tamped down that desire and settled for touching her hand briefly, telling himself their time would come. “I’ll see you then.”
Mitzy’s heartbeat accelerated the minute she heard the doorbell ring the following evening.
She inhaled deeply and headed for the door.
Chase was on the other side of the portal. His short sandy-brown hair clean and neatly brushed, his face closely shaven and smelling of aftershave, he was as gussied up as if they had been going on a date.
She’d spent a little time on her appearance, as well.
“Hey,” she breathed, resisting the urge to bring him in close for the casual hug she gave most of her good friends. “You’re right on time.” Something that had almost never been true, years before, when they’d actually been a couple.
He hefted the big beautiful Christmas wreath in one hand, the oversize bag from the hardware store, bearing what appeared to be prelit evergreen garlands and red velvet holiday bows, in the other. She caught a whiff of his brisk woodsy cologne as he stepped over the threshold. He winked at her genially. “And bearing gifts.”
Something he had done a lot, when they were together.
Feeling another whoosh of attraction, she took the packages that he handed her. A self-conscious flush moved from her chest up to her cheeks. “You didn’t have to do this.”
He shrugged affably, his gaze moving up and down the length of her. “I thought decorating the front of your home might help put you in the holiday spirit. You know,” he roughly paraphrased her favorite Christmas story, “deck the halls. And mistletoe...and presents to pretty girls...”
Just being with him again made her heart skip another beat. She focused on the wispy curls springing from the open collar of his shirt. “There isn’t any mistletoe here.”
“Really?” He leaned closer, his warm breath whispering across her ear. “That’s a shame.”
She shot him a “contain yourself” look. “And there better not be any in this bag, either, cowboy.”
“Sad to say.” He sighed comically, holding her eyes in the rakish manner she knew so well. “There’s not.”
Yet, she thought, knowing him a lot better than she wished she did.
Past experience told her he would put the moves on her again.
The current sizzle of chemistry promised she would have a very hard time resisting. No matter how much she wanted to keep them from hurting each other again...
“In any case...” Ignoring the mixture of excitement and ambivalence roaring through her, she worked to get the conversation back on track. “Sorry if I’ve been a little glum. I don’t mean to bring you or anyone else down.” She took his coat and hung it in the hall closet. “But it’s hard to be merry when I’ve got business problems on my mind.”
“Hey.” He curved a gentle hand over her shoulder. Understanding glowed in his gray-blue eyes. “Whatever the difficulties are,” he promised in his husky baritone, “they’re nothing we can’t fix.”
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