Page 15 of Three of a Kind

I’m absolutely not feeling up my pregnant, single mom neighbor.

Not a bit.

Especially since I’m out here to do a job that she knows nothing about, but that definitely involves her.

“You have two moms?”

“I do.” Trying to keep from planting my free hand on the baby belly, I clench my fists. A distraction from the way her top gapes at her breasts would also be welcome. “I grew up in a big pack.”

“Is that why you’re still single?” She rests her head on my shoulder. “Too much chaos when you were growing up, so now you like to keep your options open?”

“Keep my options open…” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I haven’t been on a date in years.”

She snorts. “Okay, casual hookups. Whatever, you get the point.”

My head tilts as I realize she’s likely seen some of my work associates coming and going. We do in-person status updates only to prevent a digital trail.

“Ahh, you’ve seen my coworkers,” I say, teasing my hand down her back. “Are you stalking me?”

She sputters. “What? No, no way. I just pass your female visitors regularly.”

“And you made assumptions.” I laugh, trying to find a way to distract her. The last thing I need her focused on is my work. “Back to what happened with Libby. Let me tell you the story of how my moms left me and my brother at the park after our youngest sister was born. They got everyone rounded up and made it all the way home before they realized they lost us.”

“Ohmigod,” she whispers, slapping my stomach. “You’re kidding…”

“Nah, not even a little. They finally remembered us when one of my dads asked where we were.” I shake my head, smiling. “I was too young to remember much, but apparently, a couple of old ladies gave us their loaf of bread. We were feeding the ducks when my dad finally made it back.”

“Your parents must have been losing their minds.”

“I’m sure they were, but we survived. Parents make mistakes. It doesn’t mean you’re neglectful or a terrible mom. It’s hard raising tiny humans.”

“It really is,” she says softly.

“And you’re all on your own. That means you’ve got to give yourself some grace.”

“It’s not so easy to give grace when it comes down to life-or-death consequences.” She sighs. “I really don’t want to think about that right now. I’m probably keeping you. You can go.”

“You’re not keeping me from anything.”

“Okay, then, tell me more about your family.”

That’s a pretty safe subject.

And, luckily, I can talk about my siblings all day.

It doesn’t take long for Brooklyn to fall asleep on my chest. She’s stunning with her dark lashes fanning over her lightly freckled cheeks as she sleeps with her mouth gently parted.

I’m sure she is worn out.

I snort as she softly snores, but it’s so cute that I can’t force myself to look away.

Not even when I start to feel like a creep.

A few minutes later, Libby comes running out. She frowns, tilts her head of dark waves, and points. “Mommy’s sleeping?”

“She is,” I agree in barely more than a whisper. “She’s tired.”

Libby’s little nose wrinkles. “My bedtime story…”

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