Page 12 of The Billionaire's Instant Triplets

She’d purposefully aimed to wake before the kids, and a glance at the baby monitor confirmed that she’d been successful. She set the monitor on the kitchen counter and began rummaging through the cabinets in search of breakfast food. A few minutes later, she was listening to music and dancing while mixing a bowl of pancake batter with a few handfuls of blueberries.

One of Ria’s favorite songs came on and she sang along under her breath as she put a frying pan on the stove and turned on the heat. When drops of water bounced off the surface, she ladled out the first pancake, then turned to slice bananas and wash a few more blueberries for toppings. Gasping, she almost dropped her spoon.

“Tristan!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Tristan stepped into the kitchen, wearing a pair of shorts and a sleeveless tank top that left his muscular arms, chest, and legs on full display. He was a little sweaty, probably having just come from his home gym. “I’m just here to grab a drink.”

“Right, don’t let me stop you.” Ria switched off the music, which she’d been listening to through her portable Bluetooth speaker, and pivoted to the cutting board to continue her fruit prep. “Would you like some pancakes? They’ll be ready in a minute or two.”

“No, thanks. I usually fast in the mornings — it’s good for digestion.”

“Right.” Ria popped a blueberry into her mouth a little pointedly and sneaked a glance at Tristan. He looked different this morning somehow. She blinked — and spotted the difference. “You don’t have your glasses on.”

“No, they’re for fashion more than function.” Tristan shrugged as he squeezed a lemon into a glass of water. “I don’t really need them.”

It took all Ria’s powers not to let out a derisive snort. She’d known Tristan was a bit too hip, but wearing glasses he didn’t need felt like a step too far. If he were a kid, she’d have sat him down right there for a conversation about peer pressure and being yourself.

“Hey.” Tristan seemed to notice her judgment. “I do need the glasses a little — for reading, mostly.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Ria ate another blueberry. “When will you be back tonight?”

“Late, probably.” He took a sip of his beverage, which appeared to be just plain lemon juice and turmeric in water. “I don’t know when.” As if it had just occurred to him, he added, “Perhaps you should give me your number — that way I can let you know when I’ll be back.”

“Perfect.” Ria gave her number. “And I can text you if I have any questions about the triplets,” Ria added. She flipped the pancakes, revealing their perfect golden-brown surfaces. How Tristan wasn’t tempted by the delicious aroma of cinnamon-infused batter and chocolate chips, she didn’t know.

Tristan looked slightly confused. “I suppose, but I doubt you’ll have any questions you’d need me for. You’re the expert.”

“Sure, but they areyourkids,” Ria countered, now equally confused.

Tristan took a long sip of his beverage while Ria flipped the first batch of pancakes onto a plate.

“The kids?—”

But whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by the sound of babbling over the baby monitor. Ria turned to check the screen and saw that the kids were waking up. Jacob was already toddling over to the desk, probably in search of more crayons or markers for his wall art.

“Well, that’s my cue.” Ria smiled and turned off the pan. The rest of the pancakes could wait until the triplets were up. “If you change your mind about the pancakes, help yourself. I made plenty.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” But Tristan just sipped his lemon-turmeric water again.

Shrugging, Ria grabbed the baby monitor and headed upstairs. On the way out of the kitchen, she managed to stub her toe against the bottom of a cupboard and hopped a few steps, hoping Tristan hadn’t seen. A glance back showed that he was watching her, his expression unreadable — though perhaps there was a hint of amusement in those bright green eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Just clumsy.” Ria gave a thumbs-up. At least she hadn’t broken anything this time. Then she headed for the stairs and her young charges. On the way, her phone dinged with a “hello” message from Tristan and she saved his number.

When she got upstairs, Jacob was sitting on his bed again with a marker in his hand and his truck-patterned pillowcase sitting on his lap, a waiting canvas. Ria quickly swapped the pillow for a sheet of paper before soothing Jasmine, who was asking for water and a hug. Jamie rolled out of bed and onto the floor, a mischievous smile already on his small face.

“Skuw?” he asked.

“School?” Ria repeated, confused. “No, honey, you’re a little young for school.”

“No skul. SKUW!” Jamie’s face lit up. He jumped onto Jasmine’s bed and tapped her shoulder. “Skuw?”

“Skuw!” Jasmine grinned, her desire for water forgotten. “Wike skuw.”

Maybe the kids were supposed to be attending some kind of kindergarten that Tristan had forgotten to mention. Ria wouldn’t put it past him to have left out some important detail like that.

“I’ll ask your dad about school,” Ria said. “For now, I have some delicious breakfast waiting for you downstairs. You just need to get up, and we’ll head down.”

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