Page 48 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

Contrary to what I told Brock—and what I intended to do—I couldn’t sleep after my hour-long bath in the coach house.

I sit in the living room and look out the window toward the triplets’ ranch house, half-tempted to ask if I can visit after all, but I don’t.

I don’t trust myself with them, with any of them, let alone all three of them. Every time I’m with them, I want to blurt out the truth of who I am and why I’m there, but at this point, it’s too late. There’s no easy way to explain it without it all blowing up in my face. The only thing to do now is collect the DNA samples as I planned and find out which one of them is the real father, before confronting him and leaving quietly. He can decide if he wants to be in the baby’s life or not. And then we can work out custody and child support—or whatever.

I shiver lightly as a breeze flutters through the open window, and a figure appears on the path from the house toward me. I strain, leaning forward.

It’s Owen.

Weird how I can tell, just by his confident but slower gait. He doesn’t bear Brock’s steadfast march, or Toby’s energetic bounce. It’s definitely Owen. And he’s headed to my place.

I stand and open the front door as he shines his cell phone flashlight toward me. “Oh… you’re still awake. Brock said you were going to bed early tonight, but I thought I’d check in anyway.”

I grin at him. “You can’t get that night out of your head, huh? It bothers you when I’m home alone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “A little bit.”

“Come in,” I urge, opening the door wider. “I actually have something for you.”

“For me?” He sounds surprised.

“I special ordered some things for your left-handed self,” I explain. “To make your life a little easier.”

Appreciation shines in his eyes. “That’s very considerate of you. I’m surprised you remembered I’m left-handed.”

“Come in,” I say again, waving him inside.

“I don’t want to keep you if you’re going to bed. Now I feel doubly guilty.”

He doesn’t look like he feels guilty in the least.

“Nah, I can’t sleep,” I admit. “I think I might be a bit nervous about Mae coming tomorrow. Is that silly?”

He steps over the threshold, and I close the door behind him, ensuring the bugs don’t get inside.

“I don’t know,” he answers in his usual, pragmatic way. “I don’t know Mae or your relationship with her.”

I chuckle at his response and gesture for him to sit on the wooden futon. “You want coffee? Iced tea?”

“I’ll get it, darlin’,” he offers, heading to the kitchen, and I admire his muscular form as he busies himself in the small unit.

There’s something sexy about a man who knows his way around a kitchen.

“Why are you nervous?” Owen asks, pouring two glasses of iced tea and carrying them toward the tiny living area.

“Well, you know, I kind of left Austin without telling her I was moving,” I remind him.

“You did that because of the baby, right?”

“In part. I was embarrassed,” I admit with a sigh. “I lost my job and then my apartment. Then I found out I was pregnant…” I trail off and stop myself from saying too much.

My lips meet the rim of the glass as I take a deep gulp, and I savor the chill as it slides down my throat. “I was going to move back in with my mom and stepdad, but…” I think of Greg and shudder slightly. “Families can be complicated.”

Owen nods sagely, setting his drink down on the steamer trunk, which serves as a coffee table. “You don’t have to tell me about that,” he agrees. “We had a stepfather for a couple of years, but he didn’t last long.”

Curiously, my brow raised. “May I ask what happened to your real father?”

He blinks, his mouth parting in surprise. “Oh… Well…”

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