Page 35 of Suddenly Entwined

“We’ll see about that. Let’s watch the movie.”

It’s not long after that both of them are conked right out, and I can’t really find a good reason to stay awake myself. So I fall asleep on Berg’s pillow, surrounded by his scent and the people he loves the most.

Chapter twelve

Berg

Caro is my personal lifesaver. Of course, my kids would get sick the first day I’m on project manager duty. Being able to finish my day without worrying about them? Priceless. As I approach the exit for West Isle, I really can’t recall the last time I drove straight home after work and didn’t have to go to the kids' school to get them first. The only question is, how am I going to get her to say yes to nannying for me so that every day can feel like this? So that I can have back up when things go sideways? Chris mentioned she’s headed back to school in the fall to finish her undergrad. Maybe I can convince her to work for me until then.

Whenever Caro’s phone received a text today, I tried not to look. There was one from her brother and another from her mom. Just basic messages between family. Butanother text came through, and it was a name I didn’t recognize. It’s long, and drawn out, and full of x’s and o’s. The name at the top read Emilio. I’m pulling into the driveway when he messages again. I bite my lip, trying to ignore it, but I’m curious. If Caro isn’t single, well, that makes it easier for me to fight the attraction I feel for her. I lose my brief battle with curiosity.

Emilio: Please, Carolina. Take my calls. I have a plan to get your money back. Emilio x

I scowl at the screen for several seconds, re-reading it. Get her money back? What the hell does he have to do with her finances? In the span of a few short sentences, I’ve already decided I don’t like the guy. Maybe I can find a way to ask her about it later.

When I walk through the front door and drop my keys on the cluttered front hall table, the house is silent. Too silent. I toe out of my work boots and strain my ears for the sound of a television. Maybe they’re hanging out in Caro’s place. My foot is barely across the threshold into my bedroom when I freeze. There’s three heads arranged in my bed, two tiny ones and a larger curly blonde one centred between them. I spot our thermometer on my bedside table alongside crumpled up tissues and empty mugs. Gratitude surges through me that she not only picked them up, but took amazing care of them, too. And, shit, I like the way she looks with her curls splayed across my pillow. Her jaw is relaxed, lips slightly parted, blankets drawn right up below her chin. I track the line of her arm, noticing the bandage I placed on her palm last night, and smile when I see it cupping the back of Lou’s little head. All three of them arebreathing loudly, mouths open like they can’t breathe through their noses. Caro’s face stretches into a grimace before relaxing again. Is she sick too?

Quietly, I pad across the carpet to my closet, snagging some clean clothes before shutting my ensuite bathroom door behind me. Making quick work of getting clean, I’m done and dressed in only a few minutes. I should probably wake Nat and Lou up if I want them to go to bed in a few hours and actually sleep.

“Psst, girls.”

Caro’s eyes pop open immediately, settling on me as she sucks in a breath.

“Oh my god, I fell asleep,” she whispers, voice hoarse.

I nod, resisting the urge to stroke the hair off her forehead.

“I told you. I’m the worst babysitter ever.”

I chuckle. “Nah, they aren’t babies. You did great.”

Caro turns her head one way, then the other, and groans. Her eyes look glassy, her cheeks rosier than normal.

“They are freaking cute.”

“Thanks. I made them myself.”

My eyes flit naturally to a photo on my dresser of Trudy holding Natalie on her hip, belly heavy with Louisa.

“Well, with their Mom.”

Caro nods carefully, maybe waiting for me to elaborate.

I give into the urge to touch her, laying my palm on her forehead. She’s burning hot.

“You’re sick.”

Sick, a bruised shoulder, and a cut on her hand. This woman.

“Nah,” she replies, but her voice sounds far away.

“You should have told me you were sick.”

“I was in denial. It got worse as the day went on. I think I’m stuck in here, though.”

I smile as I think about how many times I’ve been in her position. Nap-trapped. Caro slips her arm out from behind Lou’s head and wiggles herself to sitting, neither girl stirring at all. My eyeline falls straight to her shirt, which I recognize immediately. She’s filling it out a lot different than I do. Carolina clears her throat and my cheeks burn as I’m caught checking her out.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

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