Twins Under the Christmas Tree. Marin Thomas

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      “You can’t be serious.”

      “Why not?”

      She laughed. “The twins are a lot of work.”

      “They aren’t so bad.”

      Wait until he spent more time with her sons, then the novelty would wear off. She went to the window to make sure the boys were in the yard. “I told Javier that he has to stay at school. Please don’t let him talk you into signing him out.”

      “I wanted to speak to you about that.”

      She stuffed her books into her backpack.

      “Javier told me that he’s getting picked on at recess.”

      “You mean teased?” she said.

      “Why haven’t you spoken to his teacher about it?”

      Isi jerked as if he’d slapped her. “You think I’ve ignored the problem?”

      He shrugged. “Then why are the brats still tormenting Javier?”

      Angry that Conway believed she was an uncaring mother, she lashed out. “I don’t know what he told you, but his teacher assured me the situation is being dealt with.” An image of her son cornered by miniature thugs on the playground popped into Isi’s mind. She felt bad that the boys had been placed in day cares and preschools the past three years, but she’d had no choice—not if she intended to make a better life for them. Isi blinked hard.

      “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

      “No.” She fussed with her backpack.

      Conway wiped the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone, catching the tear that escaped her eye. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

      She sniffed. “It’s... I don’t have... Never mind.”

      “Never mind what? Talk to me.”

      “I’m doing the best I can, Conway. I complained to the head of the preschool that Javier said kids were picking on him, but she insisted that the boys would work things out on their own.”

      “How long ago did you speak to this lady?”

      “I guess it’s been a month.”

      Conway’s jaw hardened. “I can help. Will you trust me to handle this?”

      “You don’t have any experience with kids.”

      “I grew up fighting bullies who picked on me because of my name.”

      His comment triggered more tears. “The teacher said I should encourage the boys’ father to become more involved in their lives, but that’ll never happen.”

      “Why?”

      “Their father refuses to acknowledge that the boys are his.”

      Conway scowled. “Make him take a paternity test.”

      “He’s already married with kids.”

      “You slept with a married man?” Conway gaped at her.

      “He didn’t tell me he was married.”

      “And you didn’t ask him?”

      “He wasn’t wearing a wedding band, so I assumed he was single.”

      “The boys’ father should be paying child support. If he helped out financially, you could afford day care.” Conway swept his hand in front of him. “You’re barely getting by raising them on your own.”

      “We’re fine.” She wasn’t proud of accepting government assistance to help meet her monthly expenses and put food on the table, but as soon as she earned her degree, she’d find a full-time job with benefits and be able to support herself and the boys all on her own.

      “Being a single parent isn’t easy.” She swallowed hard. “I have no one to—”

      Conway cut her off midsentence by pressing his finger against her lips. The tip of his finger slipped past her lip and touched her tongue. A spark of heat warmed her brown eyes as they locked gazes.

      “What are you doing?” she mumbled against his finger.

      “Trying to stop you from talking.”

      Did he have any idea how long it had been since a man had touched her so intimately? Feeling short of breath, she said, “Don’t do that again.”

      Good grief. No sense playing with fire when they were both destined for different futures—Conway wanted marriage without kids and if she ever committed to a man, he would have to love her boys as much as she loved them.

      “Is my touch that awful?” His eyes sparkled with humor.

      “Stop trying to distract me.”

      “Isi. You’re a great mom and the boys are lucky to have you in their corner. Let me help Javier.”

      Just because you accept his help doesn’t mean you’re a failure. “Fine.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder. “See you after midnight.”

      Isi stepped outside and blew kisses to the boys. “Be good.” Then she drove off, thinking she’d better keep her guard up around Conway in case he turned out to be an authentic Mr. Nice Guy—a Mr. Nice Guy who rocked her world. Again.

      * * *

      WHEN CONWAY ENTERED the preschool, he strode up to the desk and announced, “I’m staying with the boys.”

      Both Miguel and Javier smiled.

      “You can’t stay,” the lady said.

      Conway peered at her name tag. “Why not, Rose? I’d like to observe what the boys do during their time here.”

      “I can tell you what they do. First, they sit in a circle for story time then—”

      “I don’t want to hear about it, I want to experience it.” Conway tapped his finger against the sign-in sheet on the clipboard. “Is there a guest form I need to fill out?”

      Flustered, Rose said, “Wait here, Mr. Cash. I’ll get the director.”

      Miguel tugged on Conway’s pant leg. “Now you’re in trouble. Ms. Kibble’s mean.”

      “You guys go hang up your backpacks. I’ll be there in a minute.”

      After the boys walked away, an older woman with a salt-and-pepper bob stepped from her office. “Mr. Cash, I understand you’d like to observe today.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He held out his hand.

      “Is there a problem with Miguel or Javier?” she asked.

      “Well, СКАЧАТЬ