“How long do you think they’re going to sit there like that, before they decide to get comfy and stay awhile?” Sam quipped to Lulu a good half hour later. Although he was the one with legal responsibility for them, she was the one who seemed to inherently understand what was going on with them. That put them all in the awkward position of really needing her soothing maternal presence in a way Sam hadn’t expected. And that he wasn’t sure how to deal with, given his ever-present desire for her.
Oblivious to his chaotic thoughts, Lulu looked up from the toy fort she was building in the center of the living room floor and turned her glance in the direction Sam indicated.
The triplets were right where they’d initially settled. Cuddled together in the middle of his big leather sofa. All still wore their hats and sunglasses. Their blankets and stuffed animals were on their laps. Thumbs in their mouths. All previous attempts, and there had been three thus far, to gently separate them from their head-wear had failed.
“I don’t know.” With a shrug, Lulu continued pulling toys from the box. Unlike him, she was completely at ease, despite the fact that, like him, she’d been rebuffed at every attempt to get acquainted with the children, too. Her turquoise eyes sparkled with amusement and her soft lips curved into a sweet, contented smile. “Until they’re ready to do something else?”
Sam edged closer and caught a whiff of her signature fragrance. With effort, he concentrated on the problem at hand. Helping the boys acclimate.
“With those sunglasses on, this place has to look dark to them, even though we opened up the blinds and turned the lights on.” He wondered if they were scared.
Lulu dusted off her hands and stood. Looking incredibly fetching in a pretty floral sundress and casual canvas flats, she came close enough to go up on tiptoe and whisper in his ear, “Would you relax, cowboy?” Her hand curved over his biceps. “I think your anxiety is making them tense.”
Was it his imagination or was it getting hot in here? “I’m not anxious.”
Clearly, she didn’t believe him.
She let go of him for a moment and stepped back to study him from beneath a fringe of thick, dark lashes, then lightly clasped one of his forearms just above his wrist. “Let’s just give them a moment to acclimate without us staring at them, okay?” She gave a little tug when he didn’t budge. “Come on. You can help me set their booster seats up at the kitchen table. Maybe set out a snack or...” she glanced at her watch, noting that it was nearly five o’clock “...dinner.”
Her soft skin feeling like a silky manacle around his wrist, she guided him down the wide hallway to the kitchen. Sam pushed away the evocative memories her touch engendered. Exhaled. For once, he was all too willing to let her be in charge of what went on with the two of them. In fact, the knowledge that she had some idea of what to do was reassuring.
His sisters had done all the babysitting when they were growing up. Not him. And the truth was, he had no idea at all how to handle a situation like this.
Sam peeked back into the living room, far enough to be able to surreptitiously check on the three little boys and see they were just where they had been.
Then he moved back toward Lulu. Stood, back braced against the kitchen island, feet crossed at the ankle, arms folded. “You think they’re hungry?”
She ran a hand through her sun-streaked honey brown hair, pushing the silky waves off her face. As she squared her shoulders, the luscious curves of her breasts pushed against the bodice of her dress. “I’m sure they are. Thirsty, too.” She removed three small cartons of apple juice and a container of Goldfish crackers from the bag, then set them all on the counter.
“I also know they’ve had a very rough time, being shuffled from home to home for the last two months.” She paused to look into Sam’s eyes. “They’ve got to be very confused.”
He let his gaze drift over her, surprised at how good it felt to have her here, in his home, with him. When all they’d done for years was try to stay as far apart from each other as possible. He was beginning to see what a mistake that was. Clearly, there was a lot of unfinished business between them. Aware they were definitely on the same page about one thing—making the triplets happy again—he murmured, “I want them to feel good about being here.”
“I’m sure they will,” she reassured him softly. “But we have to give them time, Sam.”
Without warning, Beauty, who’d been sleeping on her cushion in the corner of the kitchen, lifted her head. Got to her feet. And ever so slowly moved toward the hall.
Wondering what the Saint Bernard had heard, Sam turned in that direction.
There it was.
The unmistakable sound of childlike chatter.
Lulu started in surprise. Pausing to give him a quick, excited glance, she tiptoed down the hallway toward the living room. Sam was right on her heels, moving just as soundlessly.
And there they were. All three boys. Finally sans bucket hats and sunglasses, sitting on the floor, in the middle of their toys.
“You were right,” Sam murmured, standing close enough to feel the heat emanating from her slender body. “All we needed to do was give them a little room to maneuver.”
Lulu nodded, although to his consternation she didn’t look nearly as relieved as he felt to see them up and about.
Figuring it was his turn to comfort her, he reached over to give her forearm a companionable squeeze. “Maybe acclimating them won’t be so difficult after all,” he theorized.
Except as it turned out, Lulu noted in despair many times over the next eight hours, it absolutely was.
The three boys all refused their snack, and, except for a few sips of their apple juice, also made a mess of their dinner. Squishing the mac and cheese between their fingers and smearing it on their plates and the table in front of them. Banana slices, applesauce and chopped green beans shared a similar fate. In fact, once they’d finished, it looked as if there had been one heck of a food fight in Sam’s kitchen.
Once down from the table, they began to run and climb and shout, while Beauty lay on the floor, watching over them with a sweet maternal grace. As if the Saint Bernard knew exactly what they were thinking and feeling.
Which was good, Lulu thought with increasing disquiet. Because neither she nor Sam had a clue. A fact that really hit home when she decided to take matters in hand and put the overtired little munchkins to bed.
Her old camp-counselor smile plastered on her face, Lulu approached the boys. “Guess what, fellas?” she said. “It’s almost bedtime.”
“That’s right, bedtime,” Sam echoed cheerfully.
“Nooooo!” all three boys yelled in unison, then went racing off in all directions.
Sam and Lulu leaped into action. He plucked Andrew off the top of the sofa, then intercepted Ethan, who was scurrying up the stairs to the second floor. Meanwhile, Lulu scooped Theo into her arms before he could reach the remotes on the third shelf of the entertainment center. “Who wants to take a bubble bath?” she asked, even more enthusiastically.
Theo wriggled like a tadpole in Lulu’s arms. “No bath!” he shouted.
Ethan and Andrew echoed the sentiment as Sam lowered them onto the living room floor. Lulu followed suit with Theo.
The mania increased.
Sam looked over at her, clearly at wit’s end. “We have to do something,” he said firmly.
Lulu struggled to catch her breath while the boys began doing somersaults in the middle of the rug. “Agreed.”
“Then...?”
She knew she was the one with all the childcare experience, from her high school and college days. But even some of the most difficult situations at summer camp had never been like this. No wonder none of the other guardians had been able to handle the triplets.
“Maybe we should pass on the baths and just put them in clean diapers and pajamas before starting the bedtime routine,” she said.
He nodded, clearly ready to comply with anything she suggested. Which was unusual. He generally liked to be in charge.
“Got anything to bribe them with?” she asked.
His broad shoulders lifted in an amiable shrug. “Cookies?”
“Worth a try!”
He disappeared and came back with a transparent bakery container. “Who wants a chocolate chip cookie?” he said, holding it aloft.
The boys stopped.
Lulu could see they were about to refuse this, too.
Sam lowered the container so they could get a better look at the confections inside.
Three thumbs immediately went into mouths. They were thinking. Checking with each other silently. Considering.
Good. “All you have to do,” Lulu coaxed, “is get ready for bed. Then you can have a cookie and a bedtime story. Maybe even a glass of milk, okay?”
The triplets stood still.
Being careful not to spook them, she got out the necessary items, and with Sam’s help, swiftly got them all changed. When all were ready, Sam doled out the cookies as promised.
The three of them climbed up onto the center of the sofa and began to chomp away. While Sam watched over them, Lulu raced into the kitchen and brought back three sippy cups of milk.
One by one, they drank that, too.
Pleased she and Sam had been able to work together to bring peace to the household, Lulu smiled. Indicating Sam should take one end of the sofa, she slipped onto the other and began to read a story that—from the well-worn condition of it—appeared to be one of their favorites. It was about a dog who went into his little house to find shelter from the storm and was soon joined by every other animal nearby. By the time the storm passed, the doghouse was full. New friendships had been formed. And everyone was still safe and warm and happy.
As she hoped they would soon be here, at Hidden Creek.
“Would you like another story?” Lulu asked as the triplets blinked sleepily and their heads began to droop.
To her disappointment, there were no nods of agreement.
But no shouts of outright refusal, either. So taking that for a yes, Lulu grabbed another book and then another and another. By the time she hit the fifth story, all three toddlers were sound asleep.
Sam, who’d been hanging out simply listening, gestured toward the three carrying cases in the foyer. “Where do you think I should set up their travel beds?” he whispered.
That was easy, Lulu thought, already thinking about how hard it was going to be to say good-night this evening. But she and Sam had a deal, so...
She drew a deep, bolstering breath. “Close to you, in case they wake up.”
He paused, blond brow furrowing. “I know our agreement,” he said. “But...are you sure you can’t stay? At least for tonight?”
The truth was, Lulu had been hoping like crazy that he’d ask. Partly because she didn’t want to leave the boys, given the highly agitated state they’d been in. And also because she wasn’t any more confident Sam could handle this on his own than he was.
“I’ll have to run home and get a few things,” she said, doing her best to hide her elation.
He nodded his assent and rose as she walked over to get her bag. Then, stepping closer, murmured in the same tender tone he had used before, “Think we should get them settled into their beds first?”
Her body tingling at his nearness, she shook her head. “I’d let them get a little deeper into sleep first.”
“Okay.”
Another silence fell.
He looked so momentarily unsure of himself, her heart went out to him. So she moved in to give him a quick, reassuring hug. “I know we’ve had a rough start today, but it’s all going to work out, Sam,” she promised fiercely.
“I know,” he whispered back. His arms went around her and he pulled her in close, one hand idly moving down her back, reflexively calming her, too. She sank into his warmth and his strength, wishing things were as simple as they once had been. When need...want...love...were the only things driving them. But they were different people now. She needed to remember that.
Forcing herself to do what was best for all of them, Lulu drew a breath and stepped back from the enticing circle of his arms. She flashed a confident smile she couldn’t begin to feel—not when it came to the two of them, anyway.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised. And while she was gone, for the sake of everyone, she would do her best to get her own feelings in order.
Two hours later, Sam was feeling much better. Lulu had returned with an overnight bag, honey-grilled chicken sandwiches for their dinner and the makings for a pancake breakfast the next morning. He’d cleaned up the kitchen and breakfast room and set up the three toddler travel beds in the master bedroom upstairs in her absence.
Now, with their own hunger sated, all they had to do was figure out how to move the still-snoozing tykes from the sofa to the travel beds on the second floor.
“Want me to go first?” Lulu asked as they stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing down at their little charges.
Doing his best to contain all he was feeling, Sam nodded. “I’ll follow your lead.”
With an adeptness Sam well remembered, Lulu eased in to remove Theo first. He was sleeping half on Ethan and had one leg beneath Andrew. She slid her hands beneath him, careful as could be not to disturb the other two. Theo shifted and sighed as she lifted him into her arms and then situated him with his head on her shoulder, his body against her middle.
“Wish me luck,” she mouthed and glided off toward the stairs.
When she’d made it all the way up without incident, Sam copied her movements and eased Ethan into his arms. The little boy stirred and sighed but did not wake as Sam headed up the stairs. Slowly, he went down the hall, then into the master bedroom where Lulu was still bent over one of the travel cribs, tucking Theo in. She helped him ease Ethan down, and together, they went back to get Andrew. He slept through the move to bed, too.
Ten minutes later, all was set.
They tiptoed into the upstairs hallway. Lulu looked at him in question.
“Take any guest room you want,” he said.
She chose the one two doors down. Which was probably an effort to put a little more physical space between them, since the bedroom she passed over, with a queen-size bed and adjoining bath, was almost identical.
When she turned to glance up at him, she looked tired, vulnerable and very much in need of a hug. But a hug would lead to a kiss, and a kiss would lead to everything they didn’t need right now.
An electric silence fell between them and his heart kicked against his ribs.
“You’ll let me know if you need me?” she said finally.
I need you now, more than I ever thought I would. He returned her half smile, promising, just as kindly, “No question.”
Aware there was nothing else to say, he went back down the stairs and retrieved her overnight bag for her. They said good-night quickly, and both turned in.
Sam had no idea if Lulu fell asleep right away or not. He lay there for a while, thinking about all the mistakes they had made, everything they’d lost. How good it had felt to kiss her again the night before.
Still thinking about that, he drifted off. And it was shortly after that when the crying started. First Ethan, then Theo and Andrew.
Heart pounding, Sam threw back the covers and raced over to the travel cribs at the foot of his bed. All three boys were sitting up, distraught, rubbing their eyes.
Lulu rushed in, clad in a pair of blue-and-white-striped linen pajama pants, her hair gloriously mussed. In that instant, giving Sam an insight into what kind of mother she would be, she tenderly scooped up one child.
He reached down and lifted the other two.
“Hush now, baby, it’s all right,” she cooed, over and over. As did he.
To no avail. The crying continued in concert, long into the night. Sam’s only comfort was the fact that Lulu was right there with them, steadfastly weathering the storm.