Triplets for the Texan (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 5)

Hutch chuckled. “Thank you for coming.”

She cocked her head and stared at him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Janine had known him a long time. And she knew the history. “Not at all,” he said. “But I don’t really have a choice.”

Nine

Simone overheard the last thing Hutch said to Dr. Fetter, and it cut her to the bone. I don’t really have a choice. He was stuck with Simone because of some kind of moral obligation. Saint Hutch.

She bit her lip to keep from crying when he came back into the room. He still wore his white coat with Dr. Troy Hutchinson neatly embroidered on the chest. “Why are you doing this?” she asked wearily. “We can get Barb.”

“Barb is overbooked as it is. Besides, I know you, Simone. You wouldn’t be comfortable with a stranger in your house.”

“You’re practically a stranger,” she shot back. “You’ve been gone for almost six years. Neither of us is the same person we used to be.”

He didn’t let her bait him. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Surely we’ve both grown up by now. I hope I have.”

When Simone closed her eyes and didn’t answer, he knew she was trying to shut him out. It didn’t matter. Whatever the current relationship between them, he was going to protect her and her babies, God willing.

Shrugging out of his lab coat, he unbuttoned his blue dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves. The house was hot. Simone could use some fresh air. But the heat and humidity outside would only make her feel worse. He found the thermostat and made the AC click on. Soon, cool air began to blow out of the vents.

When he returned to the bedroom, Simone still had her eyes closed. He didn’t know if she was resting or pouting. Grinning inwardly, he sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her arm. “What if I fix scrambled eggs and bacon? That used to be your favorite.” On the weekends in the old days, they would often spend most of their time in bed. When they were sated and content, they ended up in the kitchen eating breakfast for dinner.

Simone opened one eye. “With cinnamon toast?”

“Whatever you want, brave girl. All you have to do is ask.”

Finally, he coaxed a smile from her. “That would be lovely,” she whispered.

“And you’ll stay in bed in the meantime?”

She nodded. “I will.”

Fortunately, he found the kitchen stocked with basics. Soon, he had bacon sizzling as he worked on the toast. The eggs turned out fluffy and perfect. He hoped having the comfort food on hand would coax Simone into eating something, at least.

When he carried the tray to the bedroom, he realized that she had dozed off again. He wondered if she’d had trouble sleeping at night, or if it was her weakness making her drowsy. He set the tray on the bedside table and touched her arm. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Dinner is served.” He guessed she had missed lunch entirely.

Simone struggled to sit up in bed. “That was fast.”

Once she was settled, he sat down beside her. “I’m going to feed you,” he said.

“I’m not a baby.”

“No, but you’re not a hundred percent. We’ll take this slow. If we need to stop, we will.”

She was visibly hesitant, but she eyed the plate longingly. “I want to gobble it up,” she said glumly. “But that would be a disaster.”

“I’m sure your stomach has shrunk. You won’t be able to eat a normal meal yet. We’ll get there gradually over the next few weeks. What do you want first?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Eggs, I think. I need the protein.”

He offered her a forkful and nodded approvingly when she opened her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “So far, so good?”

Simone nodded. “You always were a better cook than me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have other talents.”

Her cheeks turned pink. She shot him a look from beneath her lashes, a look that made his blood run hot. “Naughty, naughty, D