Her Triplets' Mistletoe Dad. Patricia Johns

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      SETH PAUSED TO look up the stairs toward the nursery. Outside the kitchen window, the sun was sinking in the west, golden rays pooling on the kitchen floor. This was their first day married, and it was almost over. He felt a weird mix of happiness and guilt at the same time. It felt good to have company in the house again—maybe too good.

      He glanced around the kitchen, and it seemed like some of those old memories had dimmed a little, just by having Gabby here, and that felt wrong. Like he was letting Bonnie down. Bonnie deserved to be remembered—vividly. But Gabby was even more vivid right now, the smell of her perfume already seeping into the other scents of the house. Gabby was here. He’d gotten so used to living with a memory that having a woman physically in his home made him uneasy.

      And yet, Gabby had always been a good friend, and before Bonnie, when times got tough or one of them had a breakup, they’d always gravitated toward each other again. They built each other back up when life knocked them down. When he’d gotten married that became his wife’s domain, but he’d missed Gabby in his life. Maybe too much; Bonnie hadn’t ever been comfortable with their friendship.

      Losing his family was the hardest knock he’d ever experienced. Gabby had been here for the funeral, but she’d had to go back to her life in Denver. So having Gabby here now felt like a bit of salve on a wound that had never healed. It wouldn’t magically cure him, but it would ease the pain somewhat, even while the chaos she and the babies would cause grated on his orderly personality.

      His gaze landed on her purse, sitting on the table next to those roses. There had to be somewhere to keep her purse out of sight. He glanced around but didn’t have time to do anything about it, because Gabby’s footsteps came creaking back down the stairs and she emerged into the kitchen again. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, and he noted how she carried the extra weight from her pregnancy. She was rounder, softer. The extra padding certainly didn’t hurt.

      “All right,” she said, stifling a yawn. “They’re still sleeping soundly.”

      Seth pulled his eyes away from her figure. Wife or not, her body wasn’t his business. It never had been.

      “So… TV?” Seth asked.

      The TV was in the living room. It wasn’t very big; he didn’t tend to watch that much TV, truth be told. He hadn’t spent much time in this house since Bonnie’s death, preferring to be on horseback checking herds and cowboy teams. Horseback riding was something he and Bonnie had never done together, so riding alone was an escape from grief, too. He’d given himself permission to not think about all he’d lost when he was on horseback. He could be present in the moment and just ride.

      “Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m exhausted.”

      He led the way through to the living room, feeling mildly self-conscious. This was to be her home, too, but it didn’t feel like it yet. This still felt like his turf.

      “Still not up to a Christmas tree?” Gabby asked. She sank into the couch—the one spot where you could see the TV without a glare.

      Seth sat down next to her, the warmth of her arm surprisingly comforting next to him. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel up to it this year.”

      Or last year. He’d obstinately avoided Christmas last year, and he’d refused to decorate at all. It wasn’t like it would cheer him up to sit alone in this house with some tinsel and mistletoe, after all.

      Gabby nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”

      She’d mentioned wanting to do some holiday decorating, and he eyed her for a moment. Last year, he’d been alone. This year, it wasn’t just him rattling around in the house.

      “Maybe a little bit of celebration would be okay. Did you want to put one up?” he asked hesitantly.

      “It’ll be the boys’ first Christmas,” she said. “It might be nice.”

      Of course—there was more to consider than his own grief this year, and a first Christmas was important. Maybe that was a good thing, because he was getting a little too accustomed to his bare, cold sadness.

      “Okay,” he said. “So we’ll get one.”

      “I can take care of decorating things around here,” she said. “You know, part of the housewife deal.”

      He smiled faintly. “Sure. Okay.” He glanced over at her. “Have you been in contact with the babies’ dad?”

      “Nope.”

      “He hasn’t reached out to ask about the boys? Nothing?”

      Gabby shook her head. “He didn’t come to the hospital, but he did pay the bill for my delivery. From what I understand, his wife found out about me before I found out about her, and she made a few demands—one of which was to cut ties with me completely.”

      “Huh.” Seth sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe for the best. For his marriage, at least. Not for the kids.”

      “You think so?” she asked curtly, sitting up. “I had no idea he was married! It’s not like I was trying to steal him or something. I think I deserved a few explanations, and if he’d wanted his wife in the room for that, all the better. But frankly, treating me like the bad guy was immature and cruel!”

      “Yeah… Yeah…” He blinked at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I guess I just figure you’re better off without him. You know—like a Band-Aid. Just rip it off.”

      “I was with him for a full year, Seth.”

      “I know.” He swallowed.

      “I deserved some closure, at the very least!”

      “He deserves to hurt just as much as you do,” he said. “I’m not on his side. I think he’s garbage. And now his wife has him back. If I were her, I wouldn’t be feeling so lucky.”

      “Fine…” Gabby leaned back again.

      “He owes you, you know,” Seth added.

      “I could sue him for child support, I suppose,” she said. “But then I’d have to let him—and his pissed-off wife—into the boys’ lives, and I’m not interested in that. Is that good for kids, to be around a stepmom who hates them? She’s blaming the wrong person for his unfaithfulness. I wasn’t the problem—he was. He was the one capable of lying to two women at once and getting away with it for a year, but she blames me. So I’m assuming she’d hate them, too, fair or not. And it’s not that I begrudge her that, either…” Color tinged her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze.

      “It’s complicated,” he concluded.

      “It’s complicated,” she СКАЧАТЬ