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The SEAL's Secret Heirs

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Not when he put it that way. Chagrined, she shook her head. “No. But it just seems like I’m a little extraneous at this point. I should probably go. Maddie’s fine.”

“Don’t be silly.” His smile faltered just a touch. “She might go off again at any moment and Maggie could decide to join in. What will I do then? Please stay. Besides, I promised you dinner. Let me do something nice for you for coming all this way.”

The panicky undercurrent had climbed back into his voice, bless his heart. She couldn’t help but smile in hopes of bolstering his confidence. “It wasn’t that far. But okay. I’ll stay.”

“Great. It’s settled then.” He held out his hand as if he wanted to shake on it but when she placed her hand in his, he yanked on it, pulling her toward the bouncy seats. “Come on, grab a baby and you can watch me cook.”

Laughing, she did as commanded, though he insisted on taking Maddie himself. She gathered up Maggie, bouncy seat and all, and followed him to the kitchen, mirroring his moves as he situated the seat near one of the two islands in the center of the room, presumably so the girls didn’t feel left out.

She kissed Maggie on the head, unable to resist her sweet face. This baby was special for lots of reasons, but mostly because of who her daddy was.

Wow. Where had that come from? She needed to reel it back, pronto.

“We’ll let them hang out for a little while,” Kyle said conversationally. “And then we’ll put them to bed. Hadley has them on a strict schedule.”

“Sure. I’d be glad to help.”

It sounded great, actually. The children she helped always either had families already, or were waiting on her to find them the best one. Grace never got to keep any of the children on whose behalf she worked, which was a little heartbreaking in a way.

But here she was, right in the middle of Maddie and Maggie’s permanent home, spending time with them and their father outside of work. The smell of baby powder clung to her hands where she’d picked up Maggie, and all at once, soft jazz music floated through the kitchen as Kyle clicked up an internet radio station at the kitchen’s entertainment center. It was a bit magical and her throat tightened.

This was not her life. She didn’t trust Kyle enough to consider where this could lead. But all at once, she couldn’t remember why that was so important. All she had to do right this minute was enjoy this.

“Can I do something to help with dinner?” she asked, since the babies were occupied with staring at their fists.

Kyle grinned and pulled a stool from behind the island, pointing to it. “Sit. Your job is to keep me company.”

Charmed, she watched as instructed. It wasn’t a hardship. He moved fluidly, as comfortable sliding a bottle from the built-in wine refrigerator as he was handling the reins of his mount earlier that day.

The cork gave way with a pop and he poured her a glass of pale yellow wine, handing it to her with one finger in the universal “one minute” gesture. He grabbed his own glass and clinked it against hers. “To bygones.”

She raised a brow. That was an interesting thing to toast to. But appropriate. She was determined not to let the past interfere with her family moment, and the future was too murky. “To bygones.”

They both drank from their glasses, staring at each other over the rims, and she had the distinct impression he was evaluating her just as much as she was him.

The fruity tang of the wine raced across her tongue, cool and delicious. And unexpected. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Chardonnay kind of guy,” she commented.

“I’m full of surprises.” With that cryptic comment, he set his wineglass on the counter and began pulling items from the double-doored stainless steel refrigerator. “I’m making something simple. Chicken salad. I hope that’s okay. The ladies didn’t give me a lot of time to prep.”

She hid a smile at his description of the babies. “Sounds great.”

Kyle bustled around the kitchen chopping lettuce and a cooked chicken breast, leaving her to alternate watching him and the twins. Though he drew her eye far more than she would have expected, given that she was here to help with the babies.

“I don’t remember you being much of a connoisseur in the kitchen,” she said as he began mixing the ingredients for homemade dressing.

They’d been so young the first time, though. Not even out of their teens, yet their twenties were practically in the rearview mirror now. Of course they’d grown and changed. It would be more shocking if they hadn’t.


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