Page 11 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

Rolling over, I reach for the half-empty bottle of beer on my nightstand, even before my eyes fully open. I chug it back to kill the dull throbbing in my head and cautiously allow my eyelids to part.

Please don’t let it be morning.

Late morning sunlight spills through the open blinds, and I curse at it. I’m not even aware of where I am yet; the realization that this isn’t my usual bed is not quite registering.

“Go away!” I beg the sun. “Get out of here!”

“Who are you yelling at?” a woman calls from the ensuite bathroom. “Me?”

I sit upright, the alcohol seeping through my bloodstream and giving me a burst of clarity. The events of last night flitter back to me in pieces, fragmented but extremely pleasant—and humiliation burns through me to realize that our companion is still in the hotel suite.

Shit. I hadn’t meant for her to hear me.

A blonde head appears in the doorway of the bathroom, and I take in her svelte figure, groaning again, this time in mortification. I strain to get a better look at her, digging deeper into the recesses of my memory.

What was her name again? Dara? Donna?

“You want me to leave?” she asks, sounding hurt, but a bemused smile rests on her lips—I think.

It’s hard to make out the distinct lines of her face, although I’m sure it’s pretty. We’re not in the habit of picking up unattractive types, even in the worst of our stupors. My brothers are pretty good at keeping that straight.

She’s pure temptation, the bathroom light casting a halo around the blonde of her hair, but blinding me to all the rest of her.

“No,” I tell her. “Not you. The sun.”

She grins. “Ah, I see.”

She moves to close the blinds and encase the bedroom in darkness again. It’s better, but it’s not great, because I still can’t see her, and my head is still pounding.

I’m not in good shape.

“I see all those shots caught with you.” She ambles toward me and slides her purse over her shoulder.

“Were you drinking water shots?” I grumble resentfully. “How are you so damned perky?”

She titters. “I paced myself a bit. And yes, there was some water involved.”

My eyes close again. I don’t need a lecture from her. I get enough of those from my brothers.

“A stiff drink and a plate of greasy food—that’s my go-to cure every time.”

I peek at her through half-lidded eyes, caught off guard by the almost nurturing edge in her voice. My mind scrambles to piece together everything I forgot from last night. Flashes come back—her body against mine, the way she moved, the sounds she made, and the kind of release that leaves you wrecked and wanting more.

Diana! That’s her name!

She ruffles my hair affectionately and heads out the door. “See you later.”

Hope ignites at the words.

Will I? See her later? That would be all right. Seeing her when I don’t feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.

“Wait!” I mumble.

Pausing in the doorway, she glances back.

I push myself upright, and a sharp throb pulses through my skull in protest. “You’re leaving?”

She grimaces lightly. “Yeah. My cousin is blowing up my phone. Apparently, I’m holding up the whole itinerary.”

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