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Secrets of a Shy Socialite
Wendy S. Marcus
Jena was always ‘the good Piermont twin’, preferring to nurse others rather than being in the limelight.Seducing her alltime crush was the bravest and most outrageous thing she’s ever done…and it brought her two adorable baby girls. So telling the unsuspecting father will be tough. But how will he react to her most heartbreaking secret yet? Beyond the Spotlight Uncovering the real Piermont sisters.


Recent titles by Wendy S. Marcus:
THE NURSE’S NOT-SO-SECRET SCANDAL
ONCE A GOOD GIRL …
WHEN ONE NIGHT ISN’T ENOUGH

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Praise forWendy S. Marcus:
‘Brimming with complex characters,
Secrets, mystery, passion, wit, intrigue and romance,
this beautifully written book has it all.’
—Romance Junkies on THE NURSE’S NOT-SO-SECRET SCANDAL
‘This is one hot book,
and it is sure to please the readers that enjoy
hot, spicy reads and a ripping fast pace.’
—Goodreads on THE NURSE’S NOT-SO-SECRET SCANDAL
‘Readers will not be able to resist the rising tension
that builds to a crescendo. Don’t be surprised if you
devour this romance in a single sitting!’
—RT Book Reviews on ONCE A GOOD GIRL …
‘Readers are bound to feel empathy for both the hero
and heroine. Each has a uniquely disastrous past and
these complications help to make the moment when
Jared and Allison are able to give their hearts
to the other all the more touching.’
—RT Book Reviews on WHEN ONE NIGHT ISN’T ENOUGH

Secrets of A Shy Socialite
By
Wendy S. Marcus



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CRAVING HER SOLDIER’S TOUCH is dedicated to Army Specialist Adam Bivins and to men and women around the world who risk their lives to fight for the freedom of others. SECRETS OF A SHY SOCIALITE is dedicated to Mary Ritter and Stella Turk: two vibrant, courageous and strong women whom I am honored to call my friends.
With special thanks to:
My wonderful editor, Flo Nicoll, for believing in me and always helping me find my way when I veer off track.
My supportive husband, for calling from work at the end of each day to ask what he should pick up for dinner.
My three loving children, for making me proud of the wonderful people they are growing up to be. I am truly blessed.

CHAPTER ONE
IF THERE was an easy way to explain why she’d impersonated her identical twin sister, lured a man into bed under semi-false pretenses, then left town without a word to anyone, and not come off sounding like an insincere, inconsiderate, immoral hussy, it required more brain power and finesse than Jena Piermont had at her disposal.
“You’ve been home for two weeks,” Jaci, Jena’s twin, said, leaning back on the sofa and lifting her fuzzy-slippered feet onto the coffee table. “I think I’ve been pretty patient, but it’s time for answers.”
Past time. Where had she been? Why did she leave? How long would she be staying? And the biggie: whose genetic contribution was partly responsible for her adorable six-week-old twin baby girls? Jaci didn’t know enough to ask about the impersonation part of Jena’s explanation dilemma. Soon enough.
“I’m almost done.” Jena arranged the baked brie and slices of crusty French baguette on two large plates and added them to the tray holding the crudité and pâté de foie gras. Never let it be said that Jena Piermont, of the Scarsdale, New York, Piermonts, was not a consummate hostess. Even while hosting her own fall from grace.
Now, to reveal the truth before the other invitees arrived at their little pow-wow. Unfortunately the news she most wanted to share, to discuss with her sister and get her advice on—the real reason she’d returned to town and would be staying for a few weeks—had to remain secret. If everything went as planned, fingers crossed, she could pull it off without Jaci ever finding out.
Jena swallowed then used a napkin to blot the unladylike clamminess from her palms. Grace under pressure. She inhaled a fortifying breath, lifted the tray and carried it to the coffee table. “Move your feet.” She arranged the delectable treats beside the sparkling water and bottled beer.
Justin liked his beer.
“Stop,” Jaci said. “You always do this when you get nervous. Flit around, straightening up, preparing snacks.”
Jena dropped the pillow she’d been in the process of plumping and rearranging on the loveseat.
“Just sit down.” Jaci patted the sofa beside her. “Tell me why you’ve been so quiet lately. What has you so upset? Before the guys get here.”
The guys. Jena considered excusing herself and running to the bathroom to vomit. But that would waste precious time. So she sat. She could do this, would do this. “I love you,” she reminded Jaci.
“I love you, too,” Jaci said, studying her. “Why do you look like you’ve got an olive stuck in your throat?”
Because that’s how she felt. Okay. No sense putting it off any longer. Tonight was the night. “Justin is the father,” Jena blurted out, her gaze fixed on her lap. “Of the twins,” she clarified—as if clarification was needed.
Usually talkative Jaci sat mute.
Jena peered over at her. “Say something,” she prompted.
“I’m … surprised. That’s all.” Jaci shifted on the couch to face her. “I knew you had a crush on him in high school.”
Not really a crush. More like a fascination-attraction-day/night dreamy type thing for the totally wrong type of boy. A silent plea for rescue from a mundane existence cluttered with more responsibilities than any teenager should be burdened with. An illicit mental visit to the dark side where the expectations and judgment of others meant nothing and Jena could indulge in the forbidden. Break the rules. Go wild. Have imaginary sex.
“And I’d thought maybe you were considering him as a husband candidate to meet the terms of our trust,” Jaci went on.
Never. Okay. Maybe once, or a few times during random episodes of pregnancy-induced psychosis when out-of-control hormones caused gross mutations to the brain cells responsible for rational thought. Moments of weakness when Jena had actually entertained the possibility of Justin protecting her from the machinations of her brother, providing a home for her and their daughters, and taking care of the three of them.
But Justin didn’t want her, and Jena refused to be any man’s second best, which didn’t much matter right now, anyway, since getting married no longer occupied the top spot on her list of priorities. Staying alive for her daughters did.
“I had no idea you two were …” Jaci began. “I mean, I haven’t seen you together in years. Neither of you mentioned that you … kept in touch.”
They didn’t, not technically, unless stalking him on social networking sites counted. Some childhood habits—like an unhealthy interest in all things Justin—were hard to break. Jena picked at a chipped fingernail she kept forgetting to file down, preoccupied with caring for the twins and worrying about the future and Jaci being attacked … “It was one night.” She couldn’t look at her sister. “We met up at Oliver’s.” A favorite restaurant/bar where Justin and Jaci often hung out. And now for the worst of it. “He thought I was you.”
“What?” Jaci screeched. “You did not just say Justin took you to bed thinking you were me.”
She couldn’t change what’d happened or the outcome. All she could do was own up to it. She looked Jaci in the eye. “It was the anniversary of Mom’s death. I’d had a horrible fight with Jerald.” Their pompous, older half-brother who’d been aggressively trying to manipulate them into marrying any one of a dozen of his equally pompous business associates. “I had to get out of the house.” A.k.a. the Piermont Estate where she and Jerald each had a wing. “We’d spoken earlier and you were still so depressed over Ian returning to Iraq. I decided to surprise you with dinner.” And that’s how it’d started, with a kind gesture to cheer her sister.
“I ordered a glass of wine while I waited for the takeout and noticed Justin sitting across the bar. Alone. With a couple of empty, upside down shot glasses lined up in front of him.” Normally she would have simply blended into the crowd and stared at him from afar, attraction battling better judgment. But, “One of the bartenders noticed me and called out, ‘Jaci, take him home before I toss him out of here.’” Boy had Justin perked up at the mention of Jaci’s name. “At the time, it didn’t seem to matter who he thought I was, as long as I got him home safely.”
“You mean to tell me,” Jaci crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Jena, “during the ride in the Piermont limo, the walk from the parking lot up to the fifth floor, and while you were stripping off each other’s clothes it never crossed your mind that maybe you should clue him in to your real identity?”
Of course it had. But close proximity to Justin had caused an arousal spike that forced it away and relegated it to the spot where she stored all the unwelcome thoughts and memories she’d accumulated through the years, corralled deep in the recesses of her brain. Instead she’d allowed herself to enjoy his company and the freedom that came with pretending to be Jaci who balked at the rules and did and said what she wanted, when she wanted. Just like Justin.
For the first time in her life, Jena didn’t overanalyze, didn’t weigh the pros and cons or think about what a person of good moral character would do. Instead she’d focused on what she’d wanted, what she’d needed more than anything at that specific moment in time—comfort, a caring touch, a brief sojourn from real life—without a care for the consequences. And look where it’d gotten her. “I’m sorry.”
“It makes no sense.” Jaci said, pulling a pillow onto her lap and playing with the fringe. “Justin and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re friends. We’ve never …” She grimaced. “I have to admit I’m a little weirded out by the whole thing.”
“If it helps, I made the first move.” An orchestrated meeting of their lips. Jena leaned forward to try to catch Jaci’s attention. “He tried to stop me.” A half-hearted, ‘We shouldn’t,’ milliseconds before he’d yanked her close and kissed her with the unbridled passion of a man releasing years of pent up attraction and lust.
Jaci smiled. “You little tigress. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
It’d been a quite a shocker to Jena, too.
Someone knocked on the door. Jena jumped.
“Quick,” Jaci said. “Why did you take off?”
“The next morning Justin went nuts, carrying on about what a mistake it’d been. Angry at himself for letting it happen, for ruining your friendship. Guilty because you were Ian’s girl and he didn’t poach.” Jena shivered at the memory of Justin in a rage, which was why she’d chosen to tell him about the twins with Jaci close by. “I knew I had to tell him. And I did.”
Him sitting on the side of the bed elbows on his thighs, his head in his hands, completely comfortable with his nakedness. Her standing in the doorway to the bedroom, fully dressed. “I said, ‘You didn’t have sex with Jaci, you had it with me. Jena.’ Rather than a whew or a yippee, he’d tilted his miserable face up, oh so slowly, and simply said, ‘Oh, God. That’s even worse.’”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” Jaci reached for her hand and squeezed.
“Wait, it gets better,” Jena said. “Then he’d slapped his hand over his mouth and with a muffled, ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ he ran past me and threw up in the bathroom.” Intimacy with Jena had nauseated him to the point of regurgitation.
Another knock. Louder.
“Be right there,” Jaci yelled.
“So I left.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Jena looked away. “I was humiliated and disgusted with myself. How could I face you? I’m so ashamed.”
“Hey,” Jaci said. “Look at me.” When Jena did she asked, “Where did you go?”
Jena saw understanding in Jaci’s eyes and felt hope that they’d get past this. “Home.” Where she’d given the guard at the gate strict instructions not to let anyone up the drive. As if Justin would have wasted his time coming after her. Within three hours she’d made the necessary arrangements, packed and was being chauffeured to the airport. “South Carolina. Marta’s there.” Their old nanny. “When Jerald sent her away she’d said she’d always be there for us.” And boy had Jena appreciated Marta’s calm reassurance when faced with an unexpected pregnancy complicated by yet another painful lump in her right breast, her caring support while dealing with the fear of diagnostic testing adversely affecting her unborn babies through the results of yet another needle biopsy, and her knowledgeable guidance leading up to the birth of the twins through surviving those first few sleep-deprived weeks.
“I’m so glad,” Jaci stood, pulled Jena up to her feet and hugged her. “But why didn’t you tell me? All this time I’d been so worried you were alone and struggling.”
Jena shrugged. “If you knew, there’d have been no keeping you away. You have so many people depending on you. The residents of the Women’s Crisis Center.” Which Jaci had founded. “Your patients.” Through the community health agency where she worked. “I couldn’t take you away from all the good you do simply because of the mess I’d made of my life.”
“I love you, Jena. And while I’d prefer it if you have sex as yourself and not me, I will always love you.” She stepped back and looked into Jena’s eyes. “There’s nothing you could ever do to change that.”
“Thank you.” Jena held back tears. Barely.
Another knock and an, “Open the door, Jaci,” Ian demanded. “Are you okay?”
Jaci wiped the corner of her eye with a knuckle. “He’s such a worrywart.” But she smiled when she said it.
“Justin’s with him,” Jena reminded her. “He doesn’t know I’m back.” And since she was staying with Jaci, who lived in the same luxury high-rise, she’d rarely left the condo in order to keep it that way. The one time interaction had been unavoidable, at the benefit for the Women’s Crisis Center, she’d pretended to be Jaci and he hadn’t given her a second look.
Jaci raised her eyebrows and sucked in a breath between her teeth. “Oh, boy.”
“You got that right.” Girding herself to face the men, well, one of the men, waiting in the hallway, Jena walked to open the door.
And there he stood. Justin Rangore. Magnificent.
Tall. Dark-haired. Broad-shouldered. Muscled in all the right places. The perfectly maintained goatee he’d had since the eleventh grade. She fought off a tremble of delight at the tingly memory of him rubbing it against her neck and nipples and … lower. God help her.
“He made it sound like you were a mess,” Justin said, sliding a roughened finger from her temple, down her cheek to her chin. “But you look beautiful as always.”
No. Jaci was the beautiful one, the perfect one. Even though they were identical to the point only a handful of people could tell them apart—two of them, their parents, dead—whenever Jena looked in the mirror imperfections and inadequacies overshadowed pretty.
The same old ache in her chest flared anew. He didn’t recognize her, never recognized her. Once again he’d failed to look deep enough to see the unique individual, separate from her popular, outgoing, life-of-the-party look alike. More than a privileged Piermont, a member of the social elite in a town fixated on status. More than the quiet, studious, rule-follower and people-pleaser others saw her to be. Jena. A woman, who deserved to be loved and respected and noticed for who she was. Not as philanthropic or wonderful as Jaci, but kind and caring and loyal in her own right.
Ian, Jaci’s fiancé of twenty-four hours, who had no problem telling the two of them apart, stood beside Justin, shaking his head in disappointment. “She looks beautiful because she’s not the one exposed to pepper spray in an elevator yesterday, you ignoramus.” Ian walked toward her, placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed in support. “Hey there, future sister-in-law,” he said and slid past her into Jaci’s condo.
“Jena?” Justin asked, baffled, searching her face for some identifier for confirmation.
How she’d longed to hear him utter her name that night, in the dark, in the heat of passion. Instead he’d tortured her with each, “Damn, Jaci, you feel so good.” Punished her with, “You are so special, Jaci. Do you have any idea how special you are?”
“Hi, Justin,” she said. “Come on in.” She turned to the side to make room for him. “Let’s get this over with.”
He took one long-legged step forward and stared down at her. “We need to talk,” he said quietly, stating the obvious.
He stood too close, his deep brown eyes serious, his expression solemn, his scent making her weak, making her crave … “That’s why you’re here.” She backed into the condo, needed space, air. “To talk.” To have the conversation she should have initiated during her first week back in town. But appointments with doctors, hospitals and attorneys, taking care of the twins, and ensuring their futures had taken precedence.
He leaned in close. “Alone.”
So he could berate her for what she’d done? He couldn’t make her feel worse than she already did. To ask her to keep the circumstances of what’d happened between them a secret? Too late. “Jaci knows,” Jena said.
Justin stared down at Jena’s deceptively beautiful face. If only she had the personality to match. Shoulder length blonde curls, her complexion flawless, her eyes a striking blue. So much like Jaci’s but different. Softer, yet guarded. Funny, he couldn’t remember ever getting close enough to notice the difference before. Jena usually hung in the background. Quiet. Boring. A goodie-goodie, judgmental, rich-bitch snob. Not at all his type.
But something had changed in the ten or so months she’d been gone. She stood taller, more confident. Attractive. Alluring.
The words ‘Jaci knows’ brought him back to the conversation.
Crap. If Jaci knew that meant Ian knew, or would know soon. Ian would pound him senseless for sure. Justin wouldn’t fight back because he deserved it and, under the circumstances, would do the exact same thing if a friend he trusted took a woman he cared about to bed. Strangely, rather than apprehension at what was sure to escalate into a full blown physical altercation with one of his best—and strongest—friends, he felt relief.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to deter Ian with an explanation. “It’s not what you think.” Justin walked into Jaci’s condo. Jena closed the door behind him.
Jaci gave him a wary, perplexed look. He’d avoided revealing the truth for that exact reason. She was his best female friend. Hell, his only female friend. And they’d been getting into trouble together and looking out for one another since junior high school. He loved her. Like a sister. “I can explain.”
Ian went on guard. “Explain what?” he asked.
“Come on.” Jaci took Ian by the hand and tugged him toward the bedroom.
“Wait.” Justin stood firm. It was time to come clean. “I slept with Jena.”
Uninterested, Ian turned to follow Jaci.
“At the time I’d thought she was Jaci,” Justin admitted.
Ian jerked to a stop.
“And there’s no way you would have slept with plain, boring, inexperienced Jena otherwise,” Jena snapped. “Am I right?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
He’d deal with her in a minute. “Jaci was so upset when you ran out on her,” he spoke to Ian who turned around to face him. “Moping around. She didn’t want to do anything, go anywhere. I hadn’t seen her that depressed since right after her dad died and her mom was injured. That was your fault, not mine.” He pointed at Ian.
“So you thought you’d cheer her up with some naked fun while I was off fighting a war?” To someone who didn’t know Ian, he’d seem eerily calm. But Justin could tell when he was about to blow.
How to explain … “I’d come off a lousy shift. A woman and her seven-year-old daughter, missing for thirty-six hours. Found dead. Brutalized.” Tossed in a Dumpster like yesterday’s trash. Three years on the police force, patrolling the most dangerous crime ridden area in Westchester County, and that day had made him question his decision to forgo a cushy job in his father’s investment company to attend the police academy.
“Oh, Justin.” Jena set her palm on the bare skin of his arm. “I had no idea.”
Her touch, soft, gentle and feminine, moved him in a way Jaci’s never had. But there’d been a few times … “Jaci is my friend,” Justin said. “Your girlfriend.”
“My fiancée.”
“Right.” Justin snapped. “Still getting used to that.” And wondering how it would affect his friendship with Jaci, if they still had one after tonight. “Anyway. My point is. I don’t lust after Jaci. Hell, she’s like a sister to me.” Their relationship platonic … ninety-nine percent of the time. “But there were a few times back in high school …” When something had shifted, when physical attraction flared between them for a few minutes and they’d given in to its demands. After each encounter Jaci had insisted they never speak of it again, that they pick up the next day as if nothing had happened or risk the ruin of a friendship they both valued.
At the narrowing of Ian’s eyes and the clenching of his fists, Justin thought better of continuing on in that vein. “In my crap state of mind I let alcohol skew my thinking. I needed a distraction. She needed comfort. Or so I’d thought.” He glanced at Jena.
“I did.” Jena looked up at him. “That night would have been my mom’s fifty-third birthday.” She paused. “What do you mean there were a few times during high school? Times when you were physically attracted to Jaci? Like when?”
“I’d rather not—”
“I’d sure like to know,” Jaci said, staring at him.
“Me, too,” Ian added, straightening up to his full height.
Of course Justin’s cell phone didn’t ring. No emergency to run off to. No reason he could think of to turn and leave and never address this topic again.
“Like sophomore year?” Jena asked. “Under the bleachers at the Mt. Vernon Scarsdale men’s varsity basketball home game?”
Jaci had dropped her purse. It’d been hot in the gym. Stuffy. Her tee had molded to her full breasts. Her scent had affected him. It’d been the first time being in close proximity to Jaci had elicited a physical response. The first time she’d looked up at him with longing. The first time he’d kissed her.
“I wasn’t at that game,” Jaci said, looking back and forth between him and Jena.
“It was me,” Jena said quietly, not looking at him.
Jaci’s holier than thou, prude of a sister? Impossible. “Junior year. The gazebo at the Parks’s Fourth of July barbeque,” Justin said, remembering a friendly hug after a win at horseshoes that had morphed into a frantic, heated groping session where he’d touched her bare breasts for the first time. And though he’d touched dozens of breasts before them, the smooth, rounded, silkiness of Jaci’s, capped off by the hardest, most aroused nipples he’d ever felt, left a lasting impression.
“Me,” Jena said, looking at the ground.
That’d been ice-water-in-her-veins Jena hot and breathless and begging for more in response to his touch? No way. “Down by the lake,” he went on. “The bonfire after senior skip day.” Where they’d paired off out of sight and explored each other’s partially clothed bodies to the point of orgasm.
Jena inhaled a deep breath then exhaled and looked up at him apologetically. “Me.”
Holy crap.
“Jena Piermont. You little slut,” Jaci teased with a smile.
“You used to ask me to pretend to be you an awful lot back then and I got pretty good at it,” Jena said to Jaci.
She’d managed to fool him, that’s for sure.
“To take a trigonometry test or give an oral presentation,” Jena said. “To make an appearance at a party while you went off I don’t know where with I don’t know who.” Jena looked up at him. “I used to fake migraines and lock myself in my room, then climb down the trellis outside my window.”
“No wonder I had such a bad reputation,” Jaci said. Amused.
“You had a bad reputation because of your big mouth, your wild spirit and your lack of respect for authority. Not because you deserved it,” Justin clarified.
“And not because of me,” Jena added. “It only happened with Justin.”
For some reason that pleased him.
“And it’s not going to happen again,” Ian asserted himself into the conversation, his eyes focused in on Jena accented with a raised eyebrow. “No more switching places.” He moved his gaze to Jaci. “For any reason,” he emphasized.
“No,” Jena said, shaking her head. Contrite. “Never again. I promise.”
Jaci, however, chose not to commit. “Let’s go.” She took Ian by the hand, again, and tugged him toward the bedroom, again. “They need to talk.”
This time Ian allowed himself to be pulled away.
Well that had gone better than expected. Justin felt lighter. Freer. Except now he had to deal with Jena. A girl he’d despised in high school, who, apparently, was the very same girl with whom he’d shared some of the more special boy-girl moments of his teenage years. With Jena, not Jaci.
Jena who used to look down her snobby nose at him.
Jena, who’d enticed him into bed by pretending to be her sister.
“But I made snacks,” Jena called after Ian and Jaci, seeming nervous, her confidence slipping.
“I could sure use one of those beers.” Lined up on the coffee table. His favorite brand.
Jena rushed to open one and held it out to him.
Ian closed the door to Jaci’s bedroom, leaving Justin and Jena alone. He took a swig of brew. Cold. Refreshing.
They stood there in awkward silence.
Justin smiled. “You’re no better than all those girls you criticized back in high school, whose reputations you disparaged for dating me.”
“Dating you?” she asked, looking him straight in the eyes. “Don’t you mean rubbing up against you and sucking face with you in the hallway of our high school or bragging about giving you oral sex in the boys’ locker room and going all the way with you on school grounds?”
Good times.
“I refuse to lump myself in with those girls. But I’m sorry.” She fidgeted with a button on her blouse. “I was wrong to let you to believe I was Jaci. It was dishonest and repugnant and I ran away like a coward afterwards.” She shook her head. “I am mortified by my behavior.”
“And so you should be.” Fancy that, Princess Jena Piermont capable of apologizing and offering a convincing show of remorse. “But I think repugnant is taking it a bit far.” Because he’d enjoyed every minute of their time together, until the dawn of a new day brought with it insight and hindsight. And a hellacious hangover he would not soon forget.
Now for two issues that had been burning his gut for months. First, “Please tell me you were a virgin.” As horrible as it was to think he’d taken her virginity without the care of a knowing, sober bed-partner, the alternative was even worse. That he’d unknowingly been too rough and hurt her. Either way the evidence had stained his sheet.
“I’d rather not—”
“Please,” he took her by the arm, gentle but firm, and turned her to face him. He didn’t like her, hated the upper class lifestyle she embraced and the elitist, unlikable people she called friends, but she didn’t deserve … “The thought that I might have hurt you …” tore him up.
“You didn’t,” she assured him. “A little pinch from it being my first time, that’s all.”
“Was it …?” Good. He cursed himself for not remembering every vivid detail.
“It was fine,” she said quietly. Shyly.
Justin cringed at her bland choice of adjective. Fine, as in acceptable? Adequate? Nothing special?
“Until the next morning.”
When he’d totally lost it. “Yeah, about that. I woke up and noticed the condom from the night before draped over the trashcan beside the bed. With a big slice down the side.” And his heart had stopped. “I don’t know if it happened before, during or after, but on top of thinking I’d ruined my friendships with Jaci and Ian, I realized there was a chance she, well, you, could get pregnant.” He took another swig of beer. “I panicked.” How could he have been so carless? So unaware?
“Especially once you’d found out you may have gotten me pregnant and not Jaci,” Jena said. “If I remember correctly your exact words were, ‘Oh, God. That’s even worse.’”
Had he really said that out loud? From the hurt look in her eyes, yup, he had. Dammit. “Because we have nothing in common. We don’t even like each other. But bottom line,” after years of being treated like an afterthought and an inconvenience by his father, his only parent for as long as he could remember, Justin had decided, “I don’t want kids. With any woman. Or marriage.” He didn’t do relationships. Never could manage to give a woman what she needed outside of the bedroom. Too emotionally detached, according to numerous women who’d expected more than he was capable of giving, too self-centered to share his life with another person. Like father like son, apparently. “I like my life the way it is.” Women around when he wanted them, gone when he didn’t. Doing what he wanted when he wanted, on his own terms, without negotiation, explanation or altercation. “But I handled the possibility that our night together may have had long-term consequences poorly. I’m sorry. You deserved better.”
She looked on the verge of tears.
Some unfamiliar instinct urged him to take her into his arms to comfort her.
He resisted.
“Hey. No tears,” he said, trying to keep things upbeat. “It all worked out. Wherever you took off to has obviously been good for you. You look great. And no consequences.” Now what? He should leave. Except he didn’t want to, was still coming to terms with the fact he and Jena had shared some magical moments back in high school. Jena, not Jaci as he’d originally thought, which explained why, after each encounter, she’d so adamantly insisted it never be repeated or spoken of again.
At the sound of a baby crying in the hallway, Jena glanced at her watch and stiffened. “There’s …”
The baby’s cry grew louder. Someone knocked at the door. “I’d hoped to have a few more minutes to ease into this,” Jena said nervously on her way to open the door.
Mandy, the wife of one of Ian’s army buddies who’d been killed in Iraq, stood there holding a tiny, red-faced, screaming infant while a second tiny, red-faced, infant squalled from a stroller, and her toddler cried in a kid carrier on her back.
“I’m so sorry,” Mandy said. “I know you said seven o’clock, but Abbie’s hysterical and we couldn’t calm her down. Then she set off Annie. And now Maddie.”
Jena reached for the baby in Mandy’s arms and a heavy weight of doom settled on Justin’s shoulders. No.
“This little consequence’s name is Abbie,” Jena said brightly holding up the baby dressed in pink. “That one is named Annie.” She motioned with her elbow to the stroller where Mandy was unstrapping the baby dressed in yellow. “This is why I asked Ian to bring you down tonight. Now that you know, you can go.”
What? Justin opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He stood there idly, unable to move, watching Jena, her expression worried as she paced, patting the baby’s back, trying to calm her.
Girls. Annie named for Jena’s mother. Abbie, for his grandmother? Who’d done her best to impart a mother’s love and wisdom, and fill in the gaps left by a disinterested father too busy for his own son. Maybe if she’d lived past his eighth birthday, Justin wouldn’t have followed in his father’s pleasure seeking footsteps, avoiding attachments and commitments with women.
Twins.
His.
There’d be fathers toasting, high-fiving, and laughing to the point of tears all around the tri-state area when the news got out. “I can’t wait for the day someone like you shows up at your door to take out your daughter. I hope he’s as careless with her heart as you’ve been with …” Justin couldn’t remember the daughter’s name. One of dozens of silly girls who’d hung on his every word, offered themselves to him then got their feelings hurt when he didn’t reciprocate their professed caring and love.
What goes around comes around.
Justin wanted to run, to close himself in the quiet of his condo, alone to think. But he would not be dismissed like one of her servants. “I’ll go when I’m good and ready to go.”
“Right,” she snapped. “Because you only do what you want when you want with a total disregard for what another person might want.”
Maybe so, but she was far from perfect, too. “Unless someone resorts to deceit to get me to do otherwise.” He glared at her.
Unaffected by his retort or his scathing look she fired back, “And you’re so easy to trick because you’re so darn shallow you only see what you want to see, a pretty face and a pair of breasts.”
Jaci ran out of the back bedroom, followed by Ian. “What happened?” Jaci asked, taking the baby in yellow from Mandy while Ian lifted Maddie out of her carrier and handed her to her mom.
“Something’s got Abbie all worked up and she got the other two crying,” Jena explained.
Ian walked over to Justin. “You okay?”
“You knew about the babies and didn’t tell me?” Justin asked, finding it hard to breath. No warning? No chance to adjust or digest? To figure out how to respond? What the hell to do?
“Jena wanted to tell you herself.”
“How long have you known?” The screaming echoed in his ears. Dread knotted in his gut. Life as he knew it was over.
“Since the benefit for Jaci’s crisis center.”
Almost two weeks. “Jena was at the benefit?” Justin had run security for the event. How could he have overlooked her?
“You really need to work on telling the two of them apart,” Ian said. “It’s not all that difficult.” After a moment Ian added, “Time to man up and help Jena with your daughters.”
Daughters.
Justin didn’t want daughters. Didn’t want to be a father. Did not want his life to be contorted into something unrecognizable.

CHAPTER TWO
JENA missed Marta something fierce. She bounced Abbie gently while patting her tiny back. Knowing her old nanny had been a few doors down the hall had eased many of Jena’s new mother insecurities and fears. Of course the girls had been perfect angels then. Textbook infants.
Nothing like this. Abbie arched her back and let out an unusually shrill cry.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetie girl,” she whispered against the baby’s cheek, hoping hearing the words would make her believe them. It didn’t work. Jena’s heart pounded. Don’t panic. You’re a nurse. You can handle this.
“When did she last eat?” Jena asked Mandy, starting with the most basic reason the twins cried.
“Mrs. Calvin and I fed them about an hour and a half ago.”
Moving on to diaper, Jena walked down the hall and set Abbie on the changing table where she writhed and kicked her tiny legs making it difficult to unsnap her outfit.
Diaper dry. Shoot.
Jena stripped off Abbie’s clothes and examined her naked body for signs of irritation or anything out of the ordinary. Aside from a red face, the only unusual thing identified during her careful head to toe assessment was a firm, maybe a bit distended, belly.
Please be gas.
“Jaci told me to give you this.” Justin walked into the room and handed her a bottle. He stared down at Abbie, still looking a bit shell-shocked.
“I’m sorry you found out like this,” Jena said, fastening a new diaper. “I’d planned to give you some warning before—”
A milky-looking fountain spurted from Abbie’s mouth. Jena flipped her onto her side and rubbed her back. “Hand me a cloth.”
Justin did. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know.” Worry seeped into her voice. But maybe after spewing out the contents of her tiny tummy Abbie would feel better.
Wishful thinking, because she sucked in a breath and started to cough and sputter.
“She’s choking,” Justin so helpfully pointed out, pushing Jena closer to all out panic.
No. Think like a nurse. She sat Abbie on the changing table, and, supporting her chin leaned her forward and patted her back.
Airway clear, Abbie’s screams turned even more intense, desperate for her mommy to do something to help her. But what?
Helpless tears filled Jena’s eyes as she struggled to dress her squirming infant in a soft cotton sleeper. She picked her up and tried to give her the bottle while she hurried back into the living room. Abbie clamped her lips closed and turned her head, refusing the nipple. “How long has she been like this?” Jena asked Mandy.
“A good forty-five minutes before I brought her back. Mrs. Calvin and I tried everything we could think of to calm her.”
If Mrs. Calvin, Jaci’s upstairs neighbor who’d raised five children and had been helping out with the twins since Jena’s return, couldn’t solve the problem, Jena had little confidence she’d be able to.
“She said sometimes babies just need to cry,” Mandy said.
But not like this. For close to an hour. And what if Jena weren’t here to see to the needs of her daughter? Would Abbie’s unknown caregiver allow her to cry, alone in her room, for hours and hours, totally unconcerned with her discomfort and distress, thinking ‘sometimes babies just need to cry’? Jena’s heart twisted uncomfortably. As soon as this was over she’d make a note regarding how she’d like this situation handled in the future, should she not be around to deal with it, knowing there was no guarantee her wishes would be followed. She swallowed a lump of despair.
“We need to get her to a doctor,” Justin said in his police voice, taking charge.
“I’ll watch Annie,” Jaci offered.
“It’s probably just gas,” Jena said, hoping that was true.
“But you don’t know for sure,” Justin pointed out.
“No.” Jena fought for composure. “I’ve never quite mastered the ability to read minds,” she said, maintaining an even tone. “Even if I had, I imagine reading an infant’s mind must be pretty darn difficult considering they haven’t yet acquired the skills necessary to communicate.”
Justin raised an eyebrow. “So quiet Jena has some bite, and sarcasm is your weapon of choice.”
Yup. But she didn’t usually speak it out loud. “I don’t have a pediatrician in the area yet, which doesn’t matter since the office would most likely be closed now, anyway. And Abbie hasn’t had all her vaccinations,” Jena said. “I can’t take her into an emergency room crowded with sick people.”
Jena paced and rocked and patted. Abbie screamed. What to do? What to do? A pressure behind her forehead made her eyeballs feel on the verge bulging out of their sockets. An emergency room visit. The absolute worst case scenario. No insurance. Maxed out credit cards. They couldn’t turn her away for inability to pay, could they? The humiliation. But this wasn’t about her and her stupid choices. This was about Abbie.
“I know a pediatric urgent care center,” Justin said. “Twenty minutes away.” Perfect. Maybe the car ride would put Abbie to sleep and they wouldn’t need to go inside. “I’ll need a ride.” Jena threw it out there to no one in particular. Pathetic rich girl chauffeured from place to place all her life, she’d never bothered to learn to drive. And at age twenty-four she couldn’t even drive her daughter to seek medical treatment.
“I’ll take you,” Justin said. Before she could tell him she’d rather go with Jaci, or Ian, or Mandy, or anyone but him, he added, “Come on,” and headed for the door.
Like a mother of twins could simply run out of the condo on a moment’s notice.
Men.
“I have to—”
“Here’s a car seat.” Ian walked out of the second bedroom she temporarily shared with the girls. Not all men were as clueless as Justin.
“Diaper bag restocked and ready,” Jaci said, holding it out to Justin, who, rather than reaching for it so they could get underway, stared at it like Jaci was trying to pass him a severed limb.
So sorry she hadn’t purchased a diaper bag worthy of a macho cop. “I like pink,” Jena said, snatching the bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Does the car seat meet with your approval or should I carry that, too?” She shifted Abbie and wrapped her in a baby blanket. Jaci slipped a little pink hat on Abbie’s head and gave her a kiss.
“Lord help me,” Justin said, taking the car seat from Ian. “I’ve never seen this side of her. She’s got a mouth like Jaci.”
Not quite. But Jena smiled, welcomed the comparison, because Jaci stood up for herself. Jaci didn’t let people take advantage of her. Jaci could handle anything.
Justin made the twenty minute trip to the pediatric urgent care center in less than fifteen minutes. Apparently speeding, passing on double yellow lines, and ignoring red lights were perks of the police profession. If not for the seatbelt that kept her lower body anchored on the back seat of his SUV, Jena had no doubt she would have been tossed around like a forgotten soccer ball. During the harrowing ordeal she held on to Abbie’s car seat which was strapped in beside her, her attempts to sooth her daughter and ignore Justin’s aggressiveness behind the wheel both futile.
Abbie’s unrelenting crying filled the car, echoed in her head, vibrated through her body.
Justin slowed down—thank you—and turned into the parking lot of a darkened, somewhat rundown strip mall in a not-so-nice part of town. “Why are you pulling in here?” He parked in front of the one lit storefront. The Pediatric Urgent Care Center. “It doesn’t look …” Professional. Clean. Safe.
While Jena pondered a way to nicely say, “There is no way I am taking my daughter into that dump,” Justin hopped out of the SUV, opened her door, and stuck his head inside. “Now there’s the Jena I know. Do you want to take her out of the carrier or bring in the whole thing?”
The Jena he knew? She unstrapped Abbie, removed her from the car seat and cuddled her close as she climbed out. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. But she knew. The kids at school mistook quiet, smart and wealthy for snobby, snobby and snobby.
But this had nothing to do with being a snob and everything to do with being a concerned mother who wanted her daughter examined by a qualified practitioner in a well-equipped, high quality medical setting.
Justin set his large hand on her low back and applied a gentle pressure to get her moving toward the glass door. “You don’t know me at all,” Jena said. Not exactly his fault. No one did. Because in living life to avoid conflict and cater to the needs, wants, and expectations of others, Jena tended to smother her true personality, thoughts and desires beneath her need to keep everyone who mattered to her happy. Well, no more.
“You’re right,” Justin responded as he opened the door. “I don’t know you. But whose fault is that?”
Touché.
The inside of the facility had a much nicer, more professional feel than the outside. In fact it looked and smelled like a real hospital. Jena’s stress level eased a bit. Abbie’s screams caught everyone’s attention and the ten or so people in the waiting room to the right and the older woman at the registration desk straight ahead all stared at them.
“Hey, handsome,” the woman behind the desk said, looking past Jena to Justin with a warm smile. “What are you bringing us tonight? Out of uniform?”
“Hi, Gayle,” Justin said. “This is my …” Justin stopped. “Uh … my …”
Gayle lowered her head and peered up at him over the top rim of her eyeglasses.
Jena wanted to help him out but found herself at a loss regarding how to best describe their relationship. Was she his friend? Not really. In truth they barely knew each other. His lover? Did one drunken sexual encounter make them lovers? A woman he hardly knew who just happened to be the mother of the children he didn’t know about and doesn’t want? Bingo!
Jena decided to go with friend. “I’m a friend of Justin’s.” She reached out her hand to shake Gayle’s and sat down in the chair facing her desk. “This is my daughter, Abbie.” She removed the hat. “She’s six weeks old and has been screaming like this for going on an hour and a half. She doesn’t feel like she has a fever but her abdomen is mildly distended and firm. She’s refusing her bottle and,” she glanced up at Justin, “we felt it best she be examined by a doctor to make sure nothing serious is going on.”
Gayle typed on her computer keyboard. “Insurance card.”
“I … don’t have insurance,” Jena admitted, leaning in to whisper. “But if you’d agree to a payment plan I promise to pay off the entire bill.”
Gayle’s expression all but branded Jena a liar. Then she shifted her disapproving gaze up to Justin no longer happy to see him.
“She’s my daughter,” he said boldly. “I’ll make sure the bill is paid.”
Gayle couldn’t have looked more shocked if someone had slapped her across the face with a fish. But she regrouped and handed Jena a clipboard with papers to be filled out and a pen. If only a pitying look hadn’t accompanied them.
Jena lowered her eyes and let out a breath. Her face burned with the heat of embarrassment. She hated being in this position. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then balancing Abbie against her chest with her left hand, she completed the necessary paperwork with her right.
After reviewing the forms Gayle studied Jena’s face. “You’re one of the Piermont twins?” she asked, with reverse snobbery.
Why, because Jena hadn’t had time to put herself together for public viewing? Because a Piermont shouldn’t need a payment plan? Because she didn’t belong in their little urgent care center? Or with Justin?
“Not a word,” Justin cautioned Gayle.
Like a man who didn’t want people knowing he was in any way associated with her. Or that he’d fathered a baby. Two babies. Well, who needed him? “You found me out,” Jena said with a forced laugh. She sat up a bit straighter and lifted her chin. She could do regal better than just about anyone when she needed to. “See. No worries you won’t get paid. I’m a millionairess.” With no currently available millions.
“Shshsh,” she whispered to Abbie, hugging her close. “You’re going to be fine.” She and her sister and their mother would all be fine. After Abbie stopped crying, after Jena’s surgery and after she found a way to meet the terms of her trust fund.
A payment plan. Justin followed Jena down the long hallway to one of the exam rooms reserved specifically for infants. It absolutely defied logic that Jena Piermont, whose family made The Forbes 400, a listing of the richest people in America, year after year, requested a payment plan for a bill that, at the most, might reach two hundred dollars. And she had no insurance? Doctor and hospital bills for her treatment during pregnancy and the delivery of two babies must have been considerable. But enough to drain her multi-million-dollar bank account?
No. More likely she’d squandered it on fancy clothes, fancy food, and a fancy lifestyle she obviously couldn’t afford.
“Thanks, Mary,” he said to the nurse manager who’d walked them to the room.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she whispered as he walked past her through the doorway.
“Tell Gayle not to expect any more specialty coffee deliveries while I’m out on patrol.”
Mary smiled.
“If you wanted to keep Abbie and me your dirty little secret,” Jena snapped, “why did you bring us someplace where you obviously know people?” She laid Abbie down on the paper-lined exam table and began to undress her.
Because he’d been thinking of his daughter, of getting her the best and quickest medical care available. Since he visited the urgent care center regularly in the course of his work and provided their evening security guards through his side business, he knew they’d take him in immediately. And despite Gayle’s big mouth among the staff, he trusted their discretion when it came to outsiders.
Mary placed a disposable liner on the baby scale and Jena picked up Abbie and placed her on the scale like a pro. Justin took the first opportunity to really examine the baby he’d helped to create. Ten tiny fingers opening then closing into fists. Ten tiny toes attached to the most adorable little feet. A round head with baby-fine wisps of blonde hair. An innie belly button. A cutie pie.
Jena reported an uneventful pregnancy. Justin was happy to hear that. She took the thermometer probe from Mary, placed the tip in Abbie’s armpit and held her arm to her side.
“You a nurse?” Mary asked Jena. Who nodded.
As far as he knew the only nursing she’d done was taking care of her mother who’d been physically and mentally disabled as a result of a traumatic brain injury. When she’d died a few years ago, Jena took on the role of social secretary to her jerk of a brother.
“But right now I’m more nervous first-time mom than nurse,” Jena continued. “So don’t assume I know anything.”
“Got it,” Mary said. “I have two of my own.” The thermometer beeped.
“No fever,” Mary said. “Any allergies?”
“Not that I know of.” Jena picked up Abbie, held her naked body to her chest, and covered her with a pink knit baby blanket. While swaying from side to side she rattled off brand of formula, feeding amounts/frequency/tolerance, and bowel habits. All stuff a father should know, so Justin paid close attention.
“I’ll get Dr. Morloni in here as soon as I can,” Mary said.
“Thanks.” Justin opened the door for her. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here so late?”
“Denise quit. At least tonight I have help. Tomorrow and Sunday I’m on all alone. You know any nurses looking for work?”
“What hours?” Jena asked.
“Four p.m. to twelve a.m. Why? You interested?”
“If I can work off my bill for this visit,” Jena answered.
At the same time Justin blurted out, “No she is not interested. She’s the mother of six-week-old twins. She needs to be home to take care of them.”
For a split second Jena flashed Jaci’s defiant don’t-you-dare-tell-me-what-to-do look and he waited for her temper to flare.
Mary looked up at him. “Oh, boy.”
She must have seen it too.
But Jena’s expression quickly turned neutral and rather than yell, she remained composed and calmly said, “My decision to work or not to work is one in which you have no say. And whether I care for the twins myself or arrange for someone to care for them in my absence, I won’t ever request or expect any assistance from you. So rest assured. My returning to town and returning to work will in no way impact your life. Feel free to carry on as if we don’t exist.”
Wow. A few well-chosen words really could sting as much as a slap across the face.
“You’re an idiot,” Mary said to him. Jena got a smile and a, “We’ll talk before you leave, hon. Look,” she pointed at Abbie who lay fast asleep in her mother’s arms.
Jena cupped Abbie’s head, closed her eyes and let out a relieved breath.
“Sit,” Mary whispered. “Might as well have the doctor take a quick look since you’re already here.”
“I’m afraid if I move she’ll start to cry again.” Jena gave Mary a beautiful smile that up until that point he would have bet a week’s wages she wasn’t capable of.
Once alone Justin spoke quietly, so as not to wake Abbie. “I didn’t mean to come off like you needed to stay with the babies twenty-four seven because I don’t want anything to do with them.” It was more about his daughters not being shuffled around between caregivers like he’d been. About them being able to sleep in their own beds and wake up in familiar surroundings. About them having a space that belonged to them where they felt safe and loved and welcome. “I don’t know the first thing about how to care for them. But I’ll do what I can to help.” Although children had never been part of his plan for the future, now that he had them, he would damn well do a better job at fathering than his father had.
“Wow. You’re full of surprises.” Jena gave him a small half-smile. “I thought for sure you’d demand a paternity test to try to prove they weren’t yours.”
He laughed. Tried to keep quiet but couldn’t help himself. “Honey, if you were intentionally trying to trap a guy into marriage, you’d have shot a hell of a lot higher than me.”
Seems he couldn’t say anything right tonight because she sucked in an affronted breath and took on a look of total outrage at his comment. “I would never, ever do such a thing.”
“Shshsh,” he reminded her to keep her voice down.
“What a horrible thing to imply,” she whispered as loud as one could whisper.
“Women do it all the time.” Just happened to one of his buddies down at the precinct, as a matter of fact.
“Well this one doesn’t.”
Of course she didn’t. Protection had been his responsibility and he’d blown it. “No. You don’t have to. You’re beautiful and rich.” What she lacked in personality she more than made up for in sex appeal. “Guys must be lining up to marry you.”
In what he recognized as another attempt at not letting him know what she was thinking, she looked away, but not before he caught a glimpse of sadness. “And that’s the only reason men would want to marry me, because of my looks and my money.”
Damn it. “That’s not what I meant.”
His phone rang. He looked at the screen, noting the caller and the time.” I have to take this.” He turned to face the wall and accepted the call. “I’m sorry,” he said to his pal Ryan. “I got tied up.” And forgot all about their Friday night poker game. He never missed that game, looked forward to hanging out with the guys. Already Jena and the babies were screwing with his life.
“Damn it, man,” Ryan said. “It was your turn to bring the beer.”
Jena spoke up from behind him, “You know I don’t think you’re supposed to use a cell phone in here.”
Ryan heard her. “No way, dude. Tell me you did not blow us off for some woman. First rule of poker night—”
“I know, I know. Never let a woman interfere with the game,” Justin finished for him. Then he lowered his voice and added, “What about two women?” After all, Abbie was there, too.
“You go, bro,” Ryan said, like Justin knew he would. “Call me later with the brag bits.”
Not likely.
He ended the call and turned around to find Jena glaring at him. “Very nice,” Jena said her words weighted down with sarcasm. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were inferring. And in the presence of your child.”
Who was all of six weeks old.
The doc knocked and walked in.
Thank you.
“Hello, Justin.” He shook Justin’s hand. “And who do we have here?”
“My daughter.” It came out a little easier that time. “She’s six weeks old.” Although he couldn’t take credit for anything more than having strong, determined swimmers, he actually felt kind of proud to have fathered such a perfect baby. Two of them, since he assumed Annie was identical.
“If she grows up to look anything like her mother you’d better keep a loaded shotgun handy at all times.”
For sure. And he’d aim it at any man who looked at the twins like Dr. Charmer—the staff’s nickname for him—was looking at Jena. A ripple of possessiveness surprised him and he imagined aiming that shotgun at Dr. C.
Jena smiled sweetly, totally taken in by the man’s spiel. “There are actually two of them. Abbie’s twin sister is at home with my twin sister.”
“Twin girls.” He patted Justin on the shoulder. “Better you than me.” He turned to Jena. “What brought you here tonight?”
As Jena recounted Abbie’s medical history and the events leading up to their visit, Justin watched her, determined to learn the differences between her and Jaci. Right away he noted Jena was softer, more feminine and well-spoken. Proper. And, apparently easily taken in by a handsome, sweet-talking male as she hung dreamily on every word Dr. Charmer uttered. “It’s none of your business what’s going on between us,” Justin intervened, feeling unusually territorial. Jena was the mother of his children. And he’d be damned if he would stand by and watch her fall prey to some hound dog doctor, or allow any other male a spot in his daughters’ lives. They were his.
Life had just gotten infinitely more complicated.
“Just making small talk,” Dr. Charmer said finally getting down to the exam. If nothing else, the nurses all agreed he was an excellent doctor with a superior—albeit a bit flirty—bedside manner.
Abbie did not like Dr. Charmer’s stethoscope in contact with her skin or his fingers pressing on her belly or having a scope shoved in her ears and she screamed in protest.
Granted, Justin was no doctor, but based on what he could see and hear: Lungs: healthy. Vocal cords: working fine Temper: check plus.
Tough stuff, like her namesake, and his Grandma Abbie would have loved her at first glance. Justin had a sudden urge to hold his daughter and protect her from the man upsetting her, like a dad should.
Probably better to wait until she had some clothes on.
“She looks good,” Dr. Charmer said. “You can get her dressed.”
“Would you hand me the diaper bag?” Jena asked Justin.
He placed it on the head of the exam table.
Jena took out what she needed.
“Her ears look fine,” Dr. Charmer said. “Her lungs are clear. She has good bowel sounds. No abdominal tenderness. No visible injuries. She’s moving her extremities freely. If I had to guess, I’d say she had a bout of gas. If it happens again, it may be colic. Talk to your pediatrician.”
“Can you recommend a good one?” Jena asked. “I’ve done some inquiring but haven’t decided who to use. Two more weeks and the girls will need their next round of immunizations.”
“You know in addition to urgent care cases we handle routine pediatrics by appointment, if you’re interested.”
She wouldn’t be. The urgent care center wasn’t near upscale enough for Jena.
“That’d be great,” she said with a smile brighter than any he’d ever seen on Jaci. “Would it be okay if I requested you?”
No. Dr. Blake was a much better choice. Portly, married, Dr. Blake.
“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
He was going to be a lot more than insulted when Justin got finished with him.
What the heck was happening? Jena was the quiet one. The mousey one. The stuck up one. People didn’t like her. Yet Mary did. And Dr. Charmer did—to the point Justin felt it necessary to attend every pediatric appointment from today on to prevent Jena from falling victim to his charm.
With Abbie diapered and dressed, Jena struggled to hold her and pour water into a bottle.
“I can hold her,” Justin offered.
“It’s okay,” Jena said, taking a can of formula out of the diaper bag.
“I want to.” She was his daughter and a good father would want to hold her.
Jena looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said. “For not questioning if I was sure they were yours. For taking this much better than I’d thought you would.”
Frankly he still felt sort of numb. But one thing he knew for certain, he’d do right by his girls.
Jena placed Abbie in his arms. So small. Delicate. He felt awkward, his hands too rough, too big.
“Hold her head.” Jena positioned his hands where they needed to be then measured the formula powder and dumped it into the bottle. “I need a microwave.”
“Down the hall to the right, third door on your left will be the staff break room.”
Alone with his crying daughter for the first time the responsibility of parenthood hit him. What did he know about being a father? To girls, no less. About feeding them and dressing them and getting them to stop crying? Absolutely nothing. He swayed and rubbed Abbie’s back the same way he’d watched Jena do it. “Daddy’s got you while mommy’s heating up your bottle.”
Daddy and mommy. One of each. How he’d wished for a real mommy of his own when he’d been little. Grandma Abbie had tried. But she’d been old and tired. To be honest, he’d wished for a real daddy of his own, too. One who showed an interest in his kid by visiting his classroom on career day and attending baseball practices and games. One who took his kid out to dinner and enjoyed spending time with him instead of constantly looking for places to dump him so he could entertain women too numerous to remember any one in particular without interruption.
Jena returned. “Mary said they don’t have anyone waiting for the room so we can take as long as we like.”
He looked at the bottle and saw his hand reaching for it.
“You don’t have to—”
Something strange happened. The man who had never before felt an inclination to hold or feed or have any contact with a baby said, “I want to,” be the one to get his daughter to stop crying, which feeding her at this moment would hopefully do.
“Okay. Sit down.” He did and Jena repositioned Abbie in his arms. “Keep her head elevated.” He touched the nipple to Abbie’s lips and she latched onto it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
They both stared at their daughter, her eyes closed, the slurping of her contentedly sucking the only sound in the quiet room. It was a moment he’d never forget. And an opportunity to ask a question that’d been gnawing away at him since the morning he’d learned he’d slept with Jena not Jaci. “Why did you do it?” He looked up at Jena who’d taken a seat on the exam table. “Why did you have sex with me knowing I thought you were Jaci?”
Jena hopped off the exam table and walked over to the small sink. Her back to him she said, “I had a bit of a … fascination with you back in high school.”
The surprises of the evening just kept on coming.
She opened a drawer and looked inside. “I joined the astronomy club because of it.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “So daddy would buy me a high-powered telescope.”
She closed one drawer and opened another. “Did you know with the assistance of said high-powered telescope it was possible to see from the walk-in attic in the new wing of our house directly down the hill into your bedroom at your dad’s house?”
He smiled. No he did not know that. “So you and Jaci—”
She whipped around. “Not Jaci. Only me. She didn’t know. I swear.”
Did she think he was mad? Actually, it kind of turned him on to think of her watching him in his bedroom.
She played with a Band-Aid wrapper. “You did a lot more studying than you let on in school.”
Because no one gave his dad a free ride so he shouldn’t expect one. Funny how that memory presented itself in his dad’s booming voice.
“You need to burp her.” Jena came over, spread a cloth on his shoulder and showed him what to do. He breathed in her scent, similar to Jaci but more floral and fresh. He made a mental note of the difference.
“I did a lot more than study in that room and you know it.” He watched her reaction to that statement and sure enough she started to look away, but not before he caught the tinge of deep pink on her pale cheeks. “You voyeur,” he teased.
She didn’t apologize or try to explain. “You looked gentle, like you truly cared for each one of them. Sometimes you lit candles.”
Whatever it took to get the girl of the moment into his bed.
“Before we’d met up at the bar, I’d had a terrible fight with my brother over him pressuring me to marry a man I didn’t know and had heard terrible things about.”
Abbie must have sensed his tension because she started to fret. Or maybe it was the burp that followed that’d riled her up. “Good, girl,” Jena said. “Now you can give her some more of the bottle.” He got Abbie set up to finish the bottle on his own. And felt a bit proud of that, as stupid as it may seem.
“Anyway,” Jena went on. “When the bartender told me to take you home the first thing that popped into my mind wasn’t ‘Ooooh goodie, now’s my chance to get him into bed.’ I wanted to get you home safely. And I figured I’d have a better chance of you coming with me thinking I was Jaci than knowing I was Jena.”
She had that right. “You made the first move,” Justin pointed out. For what reason he had no idea, just he felt it needed to be said.
“I know.” She did not look at all repentant. “In your condo, you and me alone, I remembered how good it’d felt to have your hands on me down at the lake. I wanted that again. I wanted more. With you. I didn’t want to lose my virginity to a man I had no feelings for, one who would only be marrying me for my trust fund. I wanted to share the experience with you.”
Because she’d seen him treat other women gently. Yet he’d been too drunk to notice her inexperience or have a care with her untried body or even protect her. If Abbie wasn’t in his arms he’d have banged his head against the wall until he achieved a level of pain he deserved. Or went unconscious. Whichever came first.
“Anyway,” she shrugged. “It’s done. And the next time will be better because I’ll know what to expect and hopefully the man I’m with will be telling me how special I am and how good I feel.”
Justin had spent so much time wondering why she’d done the switcheroo he’d never considered what it must have been like for her. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s not your fault,” Jena said.
Then her words registered. “Next time it will be better.” “When you say ‘next time it will be better’ does that mean you haven’t been with anyone since me?”
Jena plucked a wooden tongue depressor from a canister on the counter by the sink and tapped it on her palm. “Turns out morning and evening sickness, exhaustion and maneuvering around with a big, fat pregnant belly didn’t put me in much of a mood to go looking for love. Therefore, as of this moment, you remain my one and only,” she said.
It shouldn’t matter, but he kind of liked being her one and only.

CHAPTER THREE
JENA ended her call to Jaci and looked over at Justin in the driver’s seat. He’d been quiet since they’d left the urgent care center. Introspective. “Jaci said Annie’s sound asleep.”
Justin stared straight ahead at the road. “Mm mm.”
“Since Abbie’s sound asleep, too, I was wondering if you’d do me a favor?”
He glanced her way. “Depends on what it is.”
“I need to stop by the house.” Since Mary had hired her on the spot and she’d be starting work the next afternoon, “I need to pick up the nursing uniforms I wore while taking care of my mom.” Since she’d given back the maternity ones she’d borrowed down in South Carolina.
“Is it even legal for you to start work so quick?” he asked. “Mary could not have checked your references at eight o’clock on a Friday night. Do you even have experience in pediatrics?”
“Wow. Someone’s grumpy.” But he did turn in the direction of the estate.
“Abbie screamed for hours tonight,” he continued. “What’s going to happen if she does it again tomorrow night? And her mother isn’t there to take care of her?”
“It’s not like I plan to leave her home alone, for heaven’s sake. Have a little faith in me, will you? Before I accepted the job I called Jaci to make sure she was willing to watch the girls. And if there’s a problem she’ll bring them to the urgent care center, like we did tonight, and I’ll be waiting, with a doctor, to take care of them.”
“If you need money—”

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