Marion Lennox - Adopted: Twins!

Or…she was the lady he’d just seen put his ring on her finger, he thought suddenly. He’d never actually said the words, ‘Will you marry me?’

He’d never actually promised anything.

It didn’t matter, he told himself harshly. She was wearing his ring, and she’d wear it now for ever. Tomorrow she’d tell the world, and he should, too.

Starting now.

‘Charlotte and I are engaged,’ he told Erin.

Her eyes flew to his, there was the merest fraction of hesitation-and then she rose. Her pile of denim fell back onto the table. Erin’s face creased into a smile of delight for him-she really did seem delighted!-and she walked forward, took both his hands in hers and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

‘Matt, that’s wonderful. I’m very, very happy for you. The whole town’s been expecting it for ever.’ Then she stood back a little, her eyes twinkling with understanding. ‘It was supposed to happen last night though, wasn’t it?’

This lady had the knack of knowing things he’d rather she didn’t, but there was no point in denying what was obvious. It just disconcerted him. ‘Yes.’ He thought for a moment of telling her the rest of Charlotte’s plans and then thought better of it. Weddings took ages to organise.

Please let it be six months…

Erin’s thoughts were still on Charlotte, unaware of the threat the marriage posed to her boys. A Charlotte mother!

‘Poor Charlotte,’ she was saying. ‘No wonder she looked so downcast yesterday. Matt, I’m so sorry we messed with your plans.’

He wasn’t, and he wouldn’t let Erin be sorry either. ‘Hey, it got me lobster instead of quail,’ he told her, and she chuckled.

Erin had the most delicious chuckle…

‘And to think you missed out on pizza. Poor old you. Lobster and a new fiancée. Tch. And our pizza was Bay Beach’s best!’

He grinned at her. Erin’s laughter was infectious. ‘Yep. It’s a real shame.’

‘Mmm.’ Still she was smiling, and he suddenly could think of nothing else to say. All he could think of was how blindingly attractive her smile was.

Funny he’d never seen it before.

Maybe it was because he was engaged, he thought. Erin was now forbidden fruit. He was engaged to be married.

He was happily engaged to be married! Forbidden fruit indeed.

So he should leave. He should go to bed. Instead he stood, stupidly fingering the pile of new clothes.

‘Charlotte’s bought you everything you need?’

‘Yes.’

‘She should have brought you something pretty,’ he said inconsequentially. ‘You can’t just wear jeans and windcheaters.’

‘There’s not a lot of call for me to wear anything else,’ she told him bluntly. ‘These are just fine.’

‘But you go to dances and things.’

‘Only when I’m off duty. I don’t expect I’ll be off duty for a while.’

‘I can look after the twins sometimes,’ he told her. ‘If you want to go out.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Like tomorrow… Go to town tomorrow. There’s still plenty left from Tom’s insurance cheque. Go and buy yourself something nice.’

‘I hardly need pretty things tomorrow.’

‘You never know.’ He stared down at the jeans with distaste, and noticed a pile of flannelette pyjamas. He looked more closely and discovered they were all the same. Charlotte had bought three sets of red flannelette pyjamas, two small pairs and one larger set. His mouth tightened in distaste as he lifted them for inspection.

‘And these,’ he said shortly. ‘They’re wrong. I don’t know what Charlotte was thinking of buying matching sleepwear. They’ll make you and the boys look like something out of an institution.’

Erin agreed, but she was forced to defend Charlotte. She had to be grateful. ‘Matt, they’re new and clean and the boys won’t notice. They’ll be fine.’

‘They’re not fine and I’ll notice,’ he growled, and her gorgeous chuckle rang out again.

‘Oh, no, you won’t. These are pyjamas, Mr McKay. Worn in bed. You need never see them.’

‘I don’t want to. They’re dreadful.’

‘They’re sensible.’

‘They’ll be hot as be damned. It’s almost summer. You’re not wearing them.’

‘Tonight I’ll wear them.’ Her eyes were defiant-but still twinkling. ‘It’s them or nothing-and I’m definitely not wearing nothing.’

Erin in nothing…

Where had that thought come from? Erin not in her crimplene. Erin in less…

Hell! He had to get out of here. He was a sensibly engaged man.

Just as well, or anything could have happened.

‘We’ll talk about it in the morning,’ he told her. But he grabbed the package. There was no way he was letting her wear those pyjamas. ‘Meanwhile, wear a T-shirt or something. These are going back to the shop.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Her tone was half mocking and he grimaced. Did she know what he’d been thinking-and what he was feeling right now? Somehow he knew that she did.

He glowered and glowered some more. ‘Good. I’m glad you agree.’

‘It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for Charlotte’s thoughtfulness.’ She wasn’t, but she wouldn’t admit it for worlds.

She turned to gather her clothing together, and he stood watching her for a couple of moments. Erin was wearing the dress she’d been wearing the night before when the home burned down-one of her Charlotte-decreed home-made jobs. It was pale blue with lemon swirls, with a couple of fire stains she hadn’t been able to remove by scrubbing. Stained or not, it made her look…

It made her look as if the jeans and windcheaters Charlotte had chosen were totally unsuitable.

Suddenly he had a thought. This was one thing that was suitable, at least.

‘Erin?’

‘Yes?’ She paused from her clothes gathering and looked up in enquiry.

She was expecting him to go to bed and leave her, he thought. She was expecting nothing from him at all.

He felt his midriff clench in sudden pain. Hell, he wanted to do something for her so badly, and all he had was this. He shoved his hand into his back pocket and found what he’d been searching for.

‘Tom showed me the layout of your house and which was your bedroom,’ he told her, his suddenly gruff voice failing to hide his inexplicable emotion.

‘Yes?’

‘There were a few things we were able to salvage.’

Her face stilled. ‘It wasn’t all completely burned?’

‘The roof burned and the ceiling caved in,’ he told her, seeing her sudden look of hope and wanting to dispel it before it started. ‘The weight of the ceiling, and the soot and smoke and water effectively destroyed most of your stuff. But the base of your bedroom didn’t actually catch fire. The roof caved in while it was still smouldering, but it was doused fast. So the lads from the fire brigade and I made a really good search and we found these.’

And he lifted up what he was holding-a string of seed pearls.

As pearls went they were what he’d been brought up to believe were inadequate. Both his mother and Charlotte would have scorned these as trumpery, he knew. But to Erin…

To Erin they weren’t trumpery. She stared at the string dangling from his fingers, then took a tentative step forward as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

‘My mother’s necklace.’ She whispered the words. It was as if she wasn’t able to believe what she was seeing, and any minute they’d be snatched back from her.

‘It’s the only trinket we found that was recognisable,’ he told her. ‘Did you have much jewellery?’

‘That’s all I had.’ She lifted it from his fingers and stared down at it, still disbelieving. ‘Oh, Matt…’

‘I’m sorry we couldn’t retrieve more stuff,’ he said awkwardly, but she lifted her face to his and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Then, before he knew what she was about-before he could take one step to defend himself-she threw her arms around his neck, raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips.

It was a kiss of thanks-nothing more. It was a kiss of gratitude.

So how it had the capacity to knock him sideways-to have him catch her waist in his hands and pull her in to him and kiss her back-to feel like his world was shifting on its axis and shifting forever-who could say?

Matt couldn’t.

He could only feel, but feel he did. He felt the way her body felt delicious under his hands. The way her mouth yielded to his and the touch of her hair against his, the moulding of her breasts to his chest-the fragrance of her…

He didn’t understand this in the least. He could only feel and feel some more, and when she finally pulled away he could only regret her parting, and regret it with every inch of his being.

‘Oh, Matt, thank you,’ she whispered, and the tears in her eyes were real now, threatening to slide down her cheeks. She blinked them back, fast and furious, and then made a grab for her pile of clothes. Carefully sorted heaps were ignored. They were crumpled into one vast mound of clothes, gathered against her breast almost as a defence.

‘Goodnight, Matt.’

And then she fled, taking her clothes and her necklace twin-wards, before her tears finally were allowed to run free. She left Matt staring after her, wondering what the hell he’d just done.

He’d just restored a necklace to its owner.

And now something else needed restoring but it was nothing tangible. In fact, he didn’t have a clue what it was.

But it was a long time before he slept that night. And when he slept, he didn’t dream of the lady he was about to marry.

He dreamed of seed pearl necklaces, and he dreamed of Erin.

DESPITE the emotions of the day, Erin slept soundly. In fact, she slept more soundly than she remembered sleeping for years.

It was because Matt was here, she thought as she drifted toward unconsciousness. As House Mother she always slept on the brink of waking. There was always a child in need. And before that…