Page 13 of Twins for the Silver Foxes

Absolute silence buzzed in my ears. What just happened?

Scott intercepted Arthur in the doorway, the two men almost crashing into each other. Scott’s eyebrows shot straight up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I heard Arthur say as he ducked his head to the side when Scott pointed at the batter dripping from his face.

Scott swiveled toward me. A narrow-eyed look took in the scene, the state of disaster spread across the kitchen, and me. His gaze locked on me as he flashed a cocky grin. “Nothing, huh? Looks like a whole lot of something to me.”

“We got carried away,” I mumbled as I rushed around the counter, grabbing a towel and twisting it between my hands. Arthur’s shoulders stiffened, the sharp look he gave me over his shoulder like a knife to my fragile heart. “We were making breakfast and things got out of hand.”

“I’d say.” Scott slapped Arthur on the back. “Better go wash that off before it dries.” He moved out of the way and rubbed his hands together. “Any chance some batter made it into the skillet?”

“Oh. Um.” I pivoted and ran back to the stove. “Give me a few minutes.” The bacon was starting to burn, so I flipped it out onto a plate and concentrated on the pancakes. They rose golden and perfect in the pan Arthur had prepared, and I served Scott a tall stack with a smile. “Let me grab the syrup.”

“Probably a good thing you didn’t have it out already,” he said, a knowing look in his eyes as if he was well aware Arthur had kissed the daylights out of me and he didn’t mind. “I’ve tried to clean syrup off before. Not an easy task.”

My grip on the bottle of syrup went slack. What was he insinuating?

Liddy’s voice came from down the hall. “Mama?”

“In the kitchen.” I shouted back before I thought better of it. We were not in our little house anymore. This perfect, classy place wasn’t meant for shouting.

Seconds later, Liddy shoved open the door and raced my way. “I did it. I put my tutu on all by myself.” She twirled, her little hands holding out the tutu skirt I’d painstakingly repaired after an incident on the playground. My daughter spotted Scott and stopped mid-twirl. “Hi.”

“Hi there. That’s a beautiful skirt.” Whatever sexual innuendo about the syrup he’d been implying toward me vanished. He patted the stool beside him. “Hungry?”

“Yep.” Liddy tucked her hands behind her back and rocked side to side. She side-eyed me, silently asking for permission. I nodded once, and she bolted toward Scott, climbing up on the stool with the grace of a ballerina. Once she sat, she propped her elbows on the counter and stared up at him.

“So, Liddy. Do you like your new room?” Scott dragged a second plate closer and scooted one of his pancakes onto it. He drizzled it with syrup, cut it into small bites, and handed Liddy the fork.

My lips parted, though I had no idea if I wanted to thank him or berate him as I flipped pancakes and scrambled eggs. I decided to do neither and handed him the plate of bacon.

Liddy stuffed a bite into her mouth and shoved hair from her face. “It’s beautiful.” She talked around the food, glanced at me, and covered her mouth. “Not ‘posed to talk with food.”

“Sorry.” Scott hopped off his stool and rounded the counter. Before I could ask what he needed, he’d grabbed another plate and two forks from the drawer. “If you need to restock anything, let one of us know.” He tapped a small drawer in a table beneath an antique black phone as he headed back to his seat. “There’s a card in here for purchases.”

Ryland sauntered into the kitchen. He missed a step as he took in the state of the room, but like Scott, he smiled and kept going. “Morning.”

“We missed a food fight between Arthur and Hannah,” Scott said with a straight face. I sucked air and tried to calm the blush threatening.

A laugh burst out of Ryland. “I wondered. Saw Arthur in the hall. Poor bas—” he winced an apologetic look in Liddy’s direction, “man looked like he’d been through the wringer.”

Liddy watched everything with that curious and entirely too smart expression I’d learned meant she understood what was happening around her. She shoved another bite in her mouth. A hair went with it, and she stopped with a scowl. Her fork hit the plate with a clatter, and she used her thumb and forefinger to pull the hair free.

“Sorry, Liddy. I’ll fix your hair.” I brushed my hands off on a towel and patted my pockets. Damn it. I hadn’t thought to bring a brush and hairband into the kitchen.

“May I?” Ryland pulled a hairband from his wrist and twirled it between his fingers.

“You’ll need a brush,” I said at the same time he retrieved a comb from his front pocket.

Liddy licked syrup from her upper lip. “Make it like yours.” She patted the top of her head. “Right here.”

A smile so rich with warmth that it sent a stampede of buffalo through my stomach stretched across his face. Ryland remained where he stood, eyes on mine as he waited for my approval.

“Yes. Go ahead.” No one had ever done Liddy’s hair except for me. It was a small thing, a tiny blip in the thread of life, but it signaled something critical deep inside. Liddy trusted him. Both of them.

I’d almost kissed Ryland yesterday. Ididkiss Arthur this morning. What was happening to me? Clearly I possessed zero self-control when around these men. They made me feel things with nothing more than a look. A touch set me on fire. Arthur’s lips gave me thoughts of late nights on silk sheets.

Ryland set the hairband on the counter beside Liddy and used the comb to gently untangle her mop of hair. She slept with a wild abandon that always turned her hair into a rat’s nest. I’d tried everything to no avail.

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