# The Seal's Secret Heirs

Kat Cantrell

A SEAL comes home to twins…and faces off with an old flame!Returning to Royal, Texas, is an emotional minefield for Navy SEAL Kyle Wade. He never felt suited to his rich family’s ranching life. But is he suited for fatherhood? He’s about to find out—because he’s now the guardian to twins. Not only that—his high school sweetheart is the babies' caseworker!Grace Haines wants what’s best for Kyle’s kids—even if that means standing in his way. But their chemistry is as explosive as it was years ago, and it might just be time to give this military man a second chance…

## The kiss deepened without any help on his part.

He wanted more. And he couldn’t have stopped himself from taking it.

And then she was gone. Ripped away.

She bolted from the rocker, her chest rising and falling as she backed up against the split-pine railing surrounding the porch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But you did.”

“I got caught up. That can’t happen again.”

Her expression glittered with undisguised longing. So why was she stopping?

“I heartily disagree. It’s practically a requirement for it to happen again.”

“Are you that clueless, Kyle? I’m your daughters’ case-worker,” she reminded him with raised eyebrows. “We can’t get involved.”

His body cooled faster than if she’ddumped a bucket of ice water on his head. “You’re right.”

Of course she was right. This wasn’t about whether she was interested or not; it was about his daughters. What had started out as a half-formed plan to distract her from work had actually distracted him far more effectively.

And he wanted to do it again.

* * *

The SEAL’s Secret Heirs

is part of the series The Texas Cattleman’s Club:

Lies and Lullabies— Baby secrets and a scheming sheikh rock Royal, Texas.

## The SEAL’s Secret Heirs. Kat Cantrell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since she learned to spell. What else would she write but romance?

Kat, her husband and their two boys live in north Texas. When she’s not writing about characters on the journey to happily-ever-after, she can be found at a football game, watching the TV show Friends or listening to ‘80s music.

Kat was the 2011 Mills & Boon So You Think You Can Write contest winner and a 2012 RWA Golden Heart® Award finalist for best unpublished series contemporary manuscript.

To Cat Schield. Thanks for all the collaboration and for being my guide into the TCC world!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Extract

Copyright

One

Royal, Texas was the perfect place to go to die.

Kyle Wade aimed to do exactly that. After an honorable discharge from the navy, what else lay ahead of him but a slow and painful death? Might as well do it in Royal, the town that had welcomed every Wade since the dawn of time—except him.

He nearly drove through the center of town without stopping. Because he hadn’t realized he was in Royal until he was nearly out of Royal.

Yeah, it had been ten years, and when he’d stopped for gas in Odessa, he’d heard about the tornado that had ripped through the town. But still. Was nothing on the main strip still the same? These new buildings hadn’t been there when he’d left. Of course, he’d hightailed it out of Royal for Coronado, California, in a hurry and hadn’t looked back once in all his years as a Navy SEAL. Had he really expected Royal to be suspended in time, like a photograph?

He kind of had.

Kyle slowed as he passed the spot where he’d first kissed Grace Haines in the parking lot of the Dairy Queen. Or what used to be the spot where he’d taken his high school girlfriend on their first date. The Dairy Queen had moved down the road and in its place stood a little pink building housing something called Mimi’s Nail Salon. Really?

Fitting that his relationship with Grace had nothing to mark it. Nothing in Royal proper anyway. The scars on his heart would always be there.

Shaking his head, Kyle punched the gas. He had plenty of time to gawk at the town later and no time to think about the woman who had driven him into the military. His shattered leg hurt something fierce and he’d been traveling for the better part of three days. It was time to go home.

And now he had a feeling things had probably changed at Wade Ranch—also known as home—more than he’d have anticipated. Never the optimist, he suspected that meant they’d gotten worse. Which was saying something, since he’d left in the first place because of the rift with his twin brother, Liam. No time like the present to get the cold welcome over with.

Wade Ranch’s land unrolled at exactly the ten-mile marker from Royal. At least that was still the same. Acres and acres of rocky, hilly countryside spread as far as Kyle could see. Huh. Reminded him of Afghanistan. Wouldn’t have thought there’d be any comparison, but there you go. A man could travel ten thousand miles and still wind up where he started. In more ways than one.

The gate wasn’t barred. His brother, Liam, was running a loose ship apparently. Their grandfather had died a while back and left the ranch to both brothers, but Kyle had never intended to claim his share. Yeah, it was a significant inheritance. But he didn’t want it. He wanted his team back and his life as a SEAL. An insurgent’s spray of bullets had guaranteed that would never happen. Even if Kyle hadn’t gotten shot, Cortez was gone and no amount of wishing or screaming at God could bring his friend and comrade-in-arms back to life.

Hadn’t stopped Kyle from trying.

Kyle drove up the winding lane to the main house, which had a new coat of paint. The white Victorian house had been lording over Wade land for a hundred years, but looked like Liam had done some renovation. The tire swing that had hung from the giant oak in the front yard was gone and a new porch rocker with room for two had been added.

Perfect. Kyle could sit there in that rocker and complain about how the coming rain was paining his joints. Maybe later he could get up a game of dominos at the VA with all of the other retired military men. Retired. They might as well call it dead.

When Kyle jumped from the cab of the truck he’d bought in California after the navy decided they were done with him, he hit the dusty ground at the wrong angle. Pain shot up his leg and it stole his breath for a moment. When a man couldn’t even get out of his own truck without harm, it was not a good day.

Yeah, he should be more careful. But then he’d have to admit something was wrong with this leg.

He sucked it up. The only easy day was yesterday. That mantra had gotten him through four tours of duty in the Middle East. Surely it could get him to the door of Wade Ranch.

It did. Barely. He knocked, but someone was already answering before the sound faded.

The moment the door swung open, Kyle stepped over the threshold and did a double take. Liam. His brother stood in the middle of the renovated foyer, glowering. He’d grown up and out in ten years. Kyle had, too, of course, but it was still a shock to see that his brother had changed from the picture he’d carried in his mind’s eye, even though their faces mostly matched.

Crack!

Agony exploded across Kyle’s jaw as his head snapped backward.

What in the... Had Liam just punched him?

Every nerve in Kyle’s body went on full alert, vibrating with tension as he reoriented and automatically began scanning both the threat of Liam and the perimeter simultaneously. The foyer was empty, save the two Wade brothers. And Liam wasn’t getting the drop on him twice.

“That’s for not calling,” Liam said succinctly and balled his fists as if he planned to go back for seconds.

“Nice to see you, too.”

Dang. Talking hurt. Kyle spit out a curse along with a trickle of blood that hit the hardwood floor an inch from Liam’s broken-in boot.

“Deadbeat. You have a lot of nerve showing up now. Get gone or there’s more where that came from.”

Liam clearly had no idea who he was tangling with.

“I don’t cater much to sucker punches,” Kyle drawled, and touched his lower lip, right above where the throb in his jaw hurt the worst. Blood came away with his finger. “Why don’t you try that again now that I’m paying attention?”

Liam shook his head wearily, his fists going slack. “Your face is as hard as your head. Why now? After all this time, why did you finally drag your sorry butt home?”

“Aww. Careful there, brother, or people might start thinking you missed me something fierce when you talk like that.”

Liam had another thirty seconds to explain why Kyle’s welcome home had included a fist. Liam had a crappy right hook, but it still hurt. If anything, Kyle was the one who should be throwing punches. After all, he was the one with the ax to grind. He was the one who had left Royal because of what Liam had done.

Or rather whom he’d done. Grace Haines. Liam had broken the most sacred of all brotherly bonds when he messed around with the woman Kyle loved. Afghanistan wasn’t far enough away to forget, but it was the farthest a newly minted SEAL could go after being deployed.

So he hadn’t forgotten. Or forgiven.

“I called your cell phone,” Liam said. “I called every navy outpost I could for two months straight. I left messages. I called about the messages. Figured that silence was enough of an answer.” Arms crossed, Liam looked down his nose at Kyle, which was a feat, given that they were the same height. “So I took steps to work through this mess you’ve left in my lap.”

Wait, he’d gotten punched over leaving the ranch in his brother’s capable hands? That was precious. Liam had loved Wade Ranch from the first, maybe even as early as the day their mother had dropped them off with Grandpa and never came back.

“You were always destined to run Wade Ranch,” Kyle said, and almost didn’t choke on it. “I didn’t dump it on you.”

Liam snorted. “Are you really that dense? I’m not talking about the ranch, moron. I’m talking about your kids.”

Kyle flinched involuntarily. “My...what?”

Kids? As in children?

“Yes, kids,” Liam enunciated, drawing out the i sound as if Kyle might catch his meaning better if the word had eighteen syllables. “Daughters. Twins. I don’t get why you waited to come home. You should have been here the moment you found out.”

“I’m finding out this moment,” Kyle muttered as his pulse kicked up, beating in his throat like a May hailstorm on a tin roof. “How...wha...”

His throat closed.

Twin daughters. And Liam thought they were his? Someone had made a huge mistake. Kyle didn’t have any children. Kyle didn’t want any children.

Liam was staring at him strangely. “You didn’t get my messages?”

“Geez, Liam. What was your first clue? I wasn’t sitting at a desk dodging your calls. I spent six months in...a bad place and then ended up in a worse place.”

From the city of Kunduz to Landstuhl Regional, the US-run military hospital in Germany. He didn’t remember a lot of it, but the incredible pain as the doctors worked to restore the bone a bullet had shattered in his leg—that he would never forget.

But he was one of the lucky ones who’d survived his wounds. Cortez hadn’t. Kyle still had nightmares about leaving his teammate behind in that foxhole where they’d been trapped by insurgents. Seemed wrong. Cortez should have had a proper send-off for his sacrifice.

“Still not a chatterbox, I see.” Liam scrubbed at his face with one hand, and when he dropped it, weariness had replaced the glower. “Keep your secrets about your fabulous life overseas as a badass. I really don’t care. I have more important things to get straight.”

The weariness was new. Kyle remembered his brother as being a lot of things—a betrayer, first and foremost—but not tired. It looked wrong on his face. As wrong as the constant pain etched into Kyle’s own face when he looked in the mirror. Which was why he’d quit looking in the mirror.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning.” Kyle jerked his head toward what he hoped was still the kitchen. “Maybe we can hash it out over tea?”

It was too early in the morning for Jack Daniel’s, though he might make an exception, pending the outcome of the conversation.

Liam nodded and spun to stride off toward the back of the house. Following him, Kyle was immediately blinded by all the off-white cabinets in the kitchen. His brother hadn’t left a stone unturned when he’d gotten busy redoing the house. Modern appliances in stainless steel had replaced the old harvest gold ones and new double islands dominated the center. A wall of glass overlooked the back acreage that stretched for miles until it hit Old Man Drucker’s property. Or what had been Drucker’s property ten years ago. Obviously Kyle wasn’t up-to-date about what had been going on since he’d left.

Without ceremony, Liam splashed some tea into a cup from a pitcher on the counter and shoved the cup into his hand. “Tea. Now talk to me about Margaret Garner.”

Hot. Blonde. Nice legs. Kyle visualized the woman instantly. But that was a name he hadn’t thought about in—wow, like almost a year.

“Margaret Garner? What does she have to do with any—”

The question died in his throat. Almost a year. Like long enough to grow a baby or two? Didn’t mean it was true. Didn’t mean they were his babies.

It felt like a really good time to sit down, and he thought maybe he could do it without tipping off Liam how badly his leg ached 24-7.

He fell heavily onto a bar stool at the closest island, tea forgotten and shoulders ten pounds heavier. “San Antonio. She was with a group of friends at Cantina Juarez. A place where military groupies hang out.”

“So you did sleep with her?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Kyle said noncommitally. They were long past the kiss-and-tell stage of their relationship, if they’d ever been that close. When Liam took up with Grace ten years ago, it had killed any fragment of warmth between them, warmth that was unlikely to return.

“You made it my business when you didn’t come home to take care of your daughters,” Liam countered, as his fists balled up again.

“Take another swing at me and you’ll get real cozy with the floor in short order.” Kyle contemplated his brother. Who was furious. “So Margaret came around with some babies looking for handouts? I hope you asked for a paternity test before you wrote a check.”

This was bizarre. Of all the conversations he’d thought he’d be having with Liam, this was not it. Babies. Margaret. Paternity test. None of these things made sense, together or separately.

Why hadn’t any of Liam’s messages been relayed? Probably because he hadn’t called the right office—by design. Kyle hadn’t exactly made it clear how Liam could reach him. Maybe it was a blessing that Kyle hadn’t known. He couldn’t have hopped on a plane anyway.

Kyle couldn’t be a father. He barely knew how to be a civilian and had worked long and hard at accepting that he wasn’t part of a SEAL team any longer.

It was twice as hard to accept that after being discharged, he had nowhere to go but back to the ranch where he’d never fit in, never belonged. His injury wasn’t supposed to be a factor as he figured out what to do with the rest of his life, since God hadn’t seen fit to let him die alongside Cortez. But being a father—to twins, no less—meant he had to think about what a busted leg meant for a man’s everyday life. And he did not like thinking about how difficult it was some days to simply stand.

Liam threw up a hand, a scowl crawling onto his expression. “Shut up a minute. No one wrote any checks. You’re the father of the babies, no question.”

Well, Kyle had a few questions. Like why Margaret hadn’t contacted him when she found out she was pregnant. While Liam had little information on his whereabouts, Margaret sure knew how to get in touch. Her girlfriend had been dating Cortez and called him all the time. She’d known exactly where he was stationed.

It was nothing short of unforgivable. “Where’s Margaret?”

“She died,” Liam bit out shortly. “While giving birth. It’s a long story. Do I need to give you a minute?”

Kyle processed that much more slowly than he would have liked. Margaret was dead? It seemed like just yesterday that he’d spent a long weekend with her in a hotel room. She’d been a wildcat, determined to send him back to Afghanistan with enough memories to keep him warm at night, as she’d put it.

He was sad to learn Margaret had passed, sure. He’d liked thinking about her on the other side of the world, living a normal life that he was helping to secure by going after bad guys. But they’d spent less than forty-eight hours together and had barely known each other, by design. He wasn’t devastated—it wasn’t as if he’d lost the love of his life or anything. Not like when he’d lost Grace.

“We used protection,” he muttered. As if that was the most important thing to get straight at this point. “I don’t understand. How did she get pregnant?”

“The normal way, I imagine. Moron.” Liam rolled his eyes the way he’d always done when they were younger. “Do you have any interest whatsoever in meeting your daughters?”

Kyle blinked. “Well...yeah. Of course. What happened to them after Margaret died? Who’s taking care of them?”

“I am. Me and Hadley. Who’s the most amazing woman. She’s the nanny I hired when you didn’t respond to any of my calls.”

Reeling, Kyle tried to gather some of his wits, but they seemed as scattered and filmy as clouds on a mild spring day. “Thanks. That’s... You didn’t have to. That’s above the call of duty.”

Liam crossed his arms, biceps rippling under the sleeve of his T-shirt. “They’re great babies. Beautiful. And I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I love them. Hadley and I, we’re planning to keep on taking care of them, too.”

“That’s not going to happen. You’ve spent the last ten minutes whaling on me about not coming home to take responsibility for this. I’m here. I’m man enough to step up.” He set his jaw, which still throbbed. “I want to see them.”

The atmosphere fairly vibrated with animosity as they stared each other down, neither blinking, neither backing down. Something flickered through Liam’s gaze and he gave one curt nod.

“Fine.” Liam called up the stairs off the kitchen that led to the upper stories.

After the longest three minutes of Kyle’s life, he heard footsteps and a pretty, blonde woman who must be the nanny came down the stairs. But Kyle only had eyes for the pink bundles, one each in the crook of her arms.

Sucker punch number two.

Those were real, live, honest-to-God babies. What the hell was he thinking, saying that he wanted to see them? What was that supposed to prove? That he didn’t know squat about babies?

They were so small. Nearly identical. Twins, like Kyle and Liam. He’d always heard that identical twins skipped generations, but apparently not.

“What are their names?” he whispered.

“Madeline and Margaret Wade,” the woman responded, and the babies lifted their heads toward the sound of her voice. Clearly she’d spent a lot of time with them. “We call them Maddie and Maggie for short.”

Somehow that seemed perfect for their little wrinkled faces. “Can I hold them?”

“Sure. This is Maggie.” She handed over the first one and cheerfully helped Kyle get the baby situated without being asked, which he appreciated more than he could possibly say because his stupid hands suddenly seemed too clumsy to handle something so breakable.

Hey, little girl. He couldn’t talk over the lump in his throat, and no one seemed inclined to make him, so he just looked at her. His heart thumped as it expanded, growing larger the longer he held his daughter. That was a kick in the pants. Who would have thought you could instantly love someone like that? It should have taken time. But there it was.

Now what? What if she cried? What if he cried?

He’d hoped a flood of knowledge would magically appear if he could just get his hands on the challenge. You didn’t learn to hack through vegetation with a machete until you put it in your palm and started hacking.

“You can take her back,” he said gruffly, overwhelmed with all the emotion he had no idea what to do with. But there was still another one. Another daughter. He found new appreciation for the term double trouble.

“This one is Maddie,” the woman said.

Somehow, the other pink bundle ended up in his arms. Instantly, he could tell she was smaller, weighing less than her sister. Strange. She felt even more fragile than her sister, as if Kyle should be careful how heavily he breathed or he might blow her to the ground with an extra big huff.

Equal parts love and fierce devotion surged through the heart he’d already thought was full, splitting it open. She’d need someone to look out for her. To protect her.

That’s on me. My job.

And then being a father made all the sense in the world. These were his girls. The reason he wasn’t dead in a foxhole flopped out next to Cortez right now. The Almighty got it perfectly right some days.

“And this is Hadley Wade, my wife,” Liam broke in with the scowl that seemed to be a permanent part of his face nowadays. “We still introduce ourselves in these parts.”

“It’s okay,” Hadley said with a hand on Liam’s elbow. Her palm settled into the crook comfortably, as if they were intimate often. “Give him a break. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m done.” Kyle rubbed his free hand across his military-issue buzz cut, but it didn’t stimulate his brain much. He contemplated Hadley, the woman Liam had casually mentioned that he’d married, as if that was some small thing. “I don’t think there’s much more I can take in. I appreciate what you’ve done in my stead, but these are my girls. I want to be their father, in all the ways that count. I’m here and I’m sticking around Royal.”

That hadn’t been set in his mind until this moment. But it would take a bulldozer to shove him onto a different path now.

“Well, it’s not as simple as all that,” Liam corrected. “Their mama is gone and you weren’t around. So even though I have temporary custody, these girls became wards of the state and had a social worker assigned. You’re gonna have to deal with the red tape before you start joining the PTA and picking out matching Easter dresses.”

Wearily, Kyle nodded. “I get that. What do I have to do?”

Hadley and Liam exchanged glances and a sense of foreboding rose up in Kyle’s stomach.

With a sigh, Liam pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call their social worker. But before she gets here, you should know that it’s Grace Haines.”

Grace. The name hit him in the solar plexus and all the air rushed from his lungs.

Sucker punch number three.

* * *

Grace Haines had avoided looking at the date all day, but it sneaked up on her after lunch. She stared at the letters and numbers she’d just typed on a case file.

March 12. The third anniversary of the day she’d become a Professional Single Girl. She should get cake. Or a card. Something to mark the occasion of when she’d given up the ghost and decided to be happy with her career as a social worker. Instead of continually dating men who were nice enough, but could never live up to her standards, she’d learn to be by herself.

Was it so wrong to want a man who doted on her as her father did with her mother? She wasn’t asking for much. Flowers occasionally. A text message here and there with a heart emoticon and a simple thinking of you. Something that showed Grace was a priority. That the guy noticed when she wasn’t there.

Yeah, that was dang difficult, apparently. The decision to stop actively looking for Mr. Right and start going to museums and plays as a party of one hadn’t been all that hard. As a bonus, she never had to compromise on date night by seeing a science fiction movie where special effects drowned out the dialogue. She could do whatever she wanted with her Saturday nights.

It was great. Or at least that was what she told herself. Loudly. It drowned out the voice in her heart that kept insisting she would never get the family she desperately wanted if she didn’t date.

In lieu of a Happy Professional Single Girl cake, Grace settled for a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup from the vending machine and got back to work. The children’s cases the county had entrusted to her were not going to handle themselves, and there were some heartbreakers in her caseload. She loved her job and thanked God every day she got to make a difference in the lives of the children she helped.

If she couldn’t have children of her own, she’d make do with loving other people’s.

Her desk phone rang and she picked up the receiver, accidentally knocking over the framed picture of her mom and dad celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary at a luau in Hawaii. One day she’d go there, she vowed as she righted the frame. Even if she had to travel to Hawaii solo, it was still Hawaii.

“Grace Haines. How can I help you today?”

“It’s Liam,” the voice on the other end announced, and the gravity in his tone tripped her radar.

“Are the girls all right?” Panicked, Grace threw a couple of manila folders into her tote in preparation to fly to her car. She could be at Wade Ranch in less than twenty minutes if she ignored the speed limit and prayed to Jesus that Sheriff Battle wasn’t sitting in his squad car at the Royal city limits the way he usually did. “What’s happened to the babies? It’s Maddie, isn’t it? I knew that she wasn’t—”

“The girls are fine,” he interrupted. “They’re with Hadley. It’s Kyle. He came home.”

Grace froze, mid-file transfer. The manila folder fell to the floor in slow motion from her nerveless fingers, opened at the spine and spilled papers across the linoleum.

“What?” she whispered.

Kyle.

Her first kiss. Her first love. Her first taste of the agonizing pain a man could cause.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. The twin daughters Kyle Wade had fathered were parentless, or so she’d convinced herself. That was the only reason she’d taken the case, once Liam assured her he’d called the USO, the California base Kyle had shipped out of and the President of the United States. No response, he’d said.

No response meant no conflict of interest.

If Kyle was back, her interest was so conflicted, she couldn’t even see through it.

“He’s here. At Wade Ranch,” Liam confirmed. “You need to come by as soon as possible and help us sort this out.”

Translation: Liam and Hadley wanted to adopt Maddie and Maggie and with Kyle in the picture, that wasn’t as easy as they’d all assumed. Grace would have to convince him to waive his parental rights. If he didn’t want to, then she’d have to assess Kyle’s fitness as a parent and potentially even give him custody, despite knowing in her heart that he’d be a horrible father. It was a huge tangle.

The best scenario would be to transfer the case to someone else. But on short notice? Probably wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Liam. It’ll work out.”

Grace hung up and dropped her head down into the crook of her elbow.

Somehow, she was supposed to go to Wade Ranch and do her job, while ignoring the fact that Kyle Wade had broken her heart into tiny little pieces, and then promptly joined the military, as if she hadn’t mattered at all. And somehow, she had to ignore the fact that she still wasn’t over it. Or him.

Two

Grace knocked on the door of Wade House and steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. Which was what she’d been doing in the car on the way over. And at her desk before that.

No one else in the county office could take on another case, so Grace had agreed to keep Maddie and Maggie under the premise that she’d run all her recommendations through her supervisor before she told the parties involved about her decisions. Which meant she couldn’t just decide ahead of time that Kyle wasn’t fit. She had to prove it.

It would be a stringent process, with no room for error. She’d have to justify her report with far more data and impartial observations than she’d ever had to before. It meant twice as many visits and twice as much documentation. Of course. Because who didn’t want to spend a bunch of time with a high-school boyfriend who’d ruined you for dating any other man?

Hopefully, he’d just give up his rights without a fight and they could all go on.

The door swung open and Grace forgot to breathe. Kyle Wade was indeed home.

Hungrily, her gaze skittered over his grown-up face. Oh, my. Still gorgeous, but sun worn, with new lines around his eyes that said he’d seen some things in the past ten years and they weren’t all pleasant. His hair was shorn shorter than short, but it fit this new version of Kyle.

His green eyes were diamond hard. That was new, too. He’d never been open and friendly, but she’d burrowed under that reserve back in high school and when he really looked at her with his signature blend of love and devotion—it had been magic.

She instantly wanted to burrow under that hardness once again. Because she knew she was the only one who could, the only one he’d let in. The only one who could soothe his loneliness, the way she’d done back then.

Gah, what was she thinking?

She couldn’t focus on that. Couldn’t remember what it had been like when it was good, because when it was bad, it was really bad. This man had destroyed her, nearly derailing her entire first year at college as she picked up the broken pieces he’d left behind.

“Hey, Grace.”

Kyle’s voice washed over her and the steeling she’d done to prepare for this moment? Useless.

“Kyle,” she returned a bit brusquely, but if she started blubbering, she’d never forgive herself. “I’m happy to see that you’ve finally decided to acknowledge your children.”

Chances were good that wouldn’t last. He’d ship out again at a moment’s notice, running off to indulge his selfish thirst for adventure, leaving behind a mess. As he’d done the first time. But Grace was here to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone in the process, least of all those precious babies.

“Yep,” he agreed easily. “I took a slow boat from China all right. But I’m here now. Do whatever you have to do to make it okay with the county for me to be a father to my daughters.”

Ha. Fathers were loving, caring, selfless. They didn’t become distant and uncommunicative on a regular basis and then forget they had plans with you. And then forget to apologize for leaving you high and dry. Nor did they have the option to quit when the going got tough.

“Well, that’s not going to happen today,” she said firmly. “I’ll do several site visits to make sure that you’re providing the right environment for the girls. They need to feel safe and loved and it’s my job to put them into the home that will give them that. You might not be the best answer.”

The hardness in his expression intensified. “They’re mine. I’ll take care of them.”

His quiet fierceness set her back. Guess that answered the question about whether he’d put up a token fight and then sign whatever she put in front of him that would terminate his parental rights. The fact that he wasn’t—it was throwing her for a loop. “Actually, they’re mine. They became wards of the state when you didn’t respond to the attempts we all made to find you. That’s what happens to abandoned babies.”

That might have come out harshly. So what. It was the truth, even if the sentiment had some leftover emotion from when Kyle had done that to her. She had to protect the babies, no matter what.

“There were...circumstances. I didn’t get any of Liam’s messages or I would have come as soon as I could.” His mouth firmed into an inflexible line. “That’s not important now. Come in and visit. Tell me what I have to do.”

“Fine.”

She followed him into the formal parlor that had been restored to what she imagined was Wade House’s former glory. The Victorian furniture was beautiful and luxurious, and a man like Kyle looked ridiculous sitting on the elegantly appointed chair. Good grief, the spindly legs didn’t seem strong enough to support such a solid body. Kyle had gained weight, and the way he moved indicated it was 100 percent finely honed muscle under his clothes. He’d adopted a lazy, slow walk that seemed at odds with all that, but certainly fit a laid-back cowboy at home on his ranch.

Not that she’d noticed or anything.

She took her own seat and perched on the edge, too keyed up to relax. “We’ll need to fill out some paperwork. What do you plan to do for employment now that you’re home?”

Kyle quirked an eyebrow. “Being a Wade isn’t enough?”

Frowning, she held her manila folder in front of her like a shield, though what she thought it was going to protect her from, she had no idea. Kyle’s diamond-bit green eyes drilled through her very flesh and bone, deep into the soft places she’d thought were well protected against men. Especially this one.

“No, it’s not enough. Inheriting money isn’t an indicator of your worth as a parent. I need to see a demonstration of commitment. A permanency that will show you can provide a stable environment for Maddie and Maggie.”

“So being able to buy them whatever they want and being able to put food on the table no matter what isn’t good enough.”

It was not a question but a challenge. She tried not to roll her eyes, she really did. But if you looked up “clueless” in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of Kyle Wade. “That’s right. Liam and Hadley can do those things and have been for over two months. Are you prepared for all the special treatments and doctor’s visits Maddie will require? I have to know.”

Kyle went stiff all at once, freezing so quickly that she got a little concerned. She should really stop caring so much but it was impossible to shut off her desire to help people. This whole conversation was difficult. She and Kyle used to be comfortable with each other. She missed that easiness between them, but there was no room for anything other than a professional and necessary distance.

“Doctor’s visits?” Kyle repeated softly. “Is there something wrong with Maddie?”

“Maddie suffers from twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. She has some heart problems that are pretty serious.”

“I...didn’t know.”

The bleakness in his expression reached out and twisted her heart. She wanted to lash out at him. Blame him. Those girls had been fighting for their lives after Margaret died, and where was Kyle? “Just out of curiosity, why did you come home now? Why not two months ago when Margaret first came looking for you? Or for that matter, why not when she first found out she was pregnant?”

She cut off the tirade there. Oh, there was plenty more she wanted to say, but it would veer into personal barbs that wouldn’t help anything. She had a job to do and the information-gathering stage should—and would—stay on a professional level.

Besides, she knew he’d been stationed overseas. He probably hadn’t had the luxury of jetting off whenever he felt like it. But he could have at least called.

Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the gold velvet cushions of the too-small chair, biceps bulging. He’d grown some interesting additions to what had already been a nicely built body. Automatically, her gaze wandered south, taking in all the parts that made up that great physique. Wow, had it gotten hot in here, or what? She fanned her face with the manila folder.

But then he eyed her, his face a careful mask that dared her to break through it. Which totally unnerved her. This darker, harder, fiercer Kyle Wade was dangerous. Because she wanted to understand why he was dark, hard and fierce. Why he’d broken her heart and then left.

“You got me all figured out, seems like,” he drawled. “Why don’t you tell me why I didn’t hop on a plane and stick by Margaret’s side during her pregnancy?”

Couldn’t the man just answer a simple question? He’d always been like this—uncommunicative and prone to leaving instead of dealing with problems head-on. His attitude was so infuriating, she said the first thing that popped into her head.

“Guilt, probably. You didn’t want to be involved and hoped the problem would go away on its own.” And that was totally unfair. Wasn’t it? She had no idea why he hadn’t contacted anyone. This new version of Kyle was unsettling because she didn’t know him that well anymore.

Really, she wasn’t that good at reading people in the first place. It was a professional weakness that she hated, but couldn’t seem to fix. Once upon a time, she’d thought this man was her forever after, her Prince Charming, Clark Gable and Dr. McDreamy all rolled into one. Which was totally false. She’d bought heavily into that lie, so how could she trust her own judgment? She couldn’t. That’s why she had to be so methodical in her approach to casework, because she couldn’t afford to let emotion rule her decisions. Or afford to make a mistake, not when the future of a child was at stake.

And she wouldn’t do either here. Maddie and Maggie deserved a loving home with a family who paid attention to their every need. Kyle Wade was not the right man for that, no matter what he said he wanted.

“Well, then,” he said easily. “Guess that answers your question.”

It so did not. She still didn’t know why he’d come home now, why he’d suddenly shown an interest in his daughters. Whether he could possibly convince her he planned to stick around—if he was even serious about that. Kyle had a habit of running away from his problems, after all.

First and foremost, how could she assess whether the time-hardened man before her could ever provide the loving, nurturing environment two fragile little girls needed?

But she’d let it slide for now. There was plenty of time to work through all of that, since Maddie and Maggie were still legally in the care of Liam and Hadley.

“I think I have enough for now. I’ll file my first report and send you a copy when it’s approved.” She had to get out of here. Before she broke down under the emotional onslaught of everything.

“That’s it, huh? What’s the report going to say?”

“It’s going to say that you’ve expressed an interest in retaining your parental rights and that I’ve advised you that I can’t approve that until I do several more site visits.”

He cocked his head, evaluating her coolly. “How long is that going to take?”

“Until I’m satisfied with your fitness as a parent. Or until I decide you’re unfit. At which point I’ll make recommendations as to what I believe is the best home for those precious girls. I will likely recommend they stay with Liam and Hadley.”

Without warning, Kyle was on his feet, an intense vibe rippling down his powerful body. She’d have sworn he hadn’t moved, and then all of a sudden, there he was, staring down at her with a sharpness about him, as if he’d homed in on her and her alone. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

It was precisely the kind of focus she’d craved once. But not now. Not like this.

“Why would you give my kids to my brother?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Well, the most obvious reason is because he and Hadley want them. They’ve already looked into adoption. But also because they know the babies’ needs and have already been providing the best place for the girls.”

“You are not taking away my daughters,” he said succinctly. “Why does this feel personal?”

She blinked. “This is the opposite of personal, Kyle. My job is to be the picture of impartiality. Our history has nothing to do with this.”

“I was starting to wonder if you recalled that we had a history,” he drawled slowly, loading the words with meaning.

The intensity rolling from him heightened a notch, and she shivered as he perused her as if he’d found the last morsel of chocolate in the pantry—and he was starving. All at once, she had a feeling they were both remembering the sweet fire of first love. They might have been young, but what they’d lacked in experience, they made up for in enthusiasm. Their relationship had hit some high notes that she’d prefer not to be remembering right this minute. Not with the man who’d made her body sing a scant few feet away.

“I haven’t forgotten one day of our relationship.” Why did her voice sound so breathless?

“Even the last one?” he murmured, and his voice skittered down her spine with teeth she wasn’t expecting.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Confused as to why warning sirens were going off in her head, she stared at the spot where the inverted tray ceiling seams came together. “We broke up. You didn’t notice. Then you joined the military and eventually came home. Here we are.”

“Oh, I noticed, Grace.” The honeyed quality of his tone drew her gaze to his and the green fire there blazed with heat she didn’t know what to do with. “I think we can both agree that what happened between us ten years ago was a mistake. Never to be repeated. We’ll let bygones be bygones and you’ll figure out a way to make this pesky custody issue go away. Deal?”

A mistake. Bygones. Her heart stung as it absorbed the words that confirmed she hadn’t meant that much to him. Breaking up with him hadn’t fazed him the way she’d hoped. The daring ploy she’d staged to get his attention—by letting him catch her with Liam, a notorious womanizer—hadn’t worked, either, because he hadn’t really cared whether she messed around with his brother. The whole ruse had been for naught.

Stricken, she stared at him, unable to look away, unable to quell the turmoil inside at Kyle being close enough to touch and yet so very far away. They’d broken up ten years ago because he’d never seemed all that into their relationship. Hadn’t enough time passed for her to get over it already?

“Sure. Bygones,” she repeated, because that was all she could get out.

She escaped with the hasty promise that she’d send him a set schedule of home visits and drove away from Wade Ranch as fast as she dared. But she feared it would never be fast enough to catch up with her impartiality—it had scampered down the road far too quickly and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to recover it. Her emotions were fully engaged in this case and she’d have to work extra hard to shut them down. So she could do the best thing for everyone. Including herself.

* * *

Kyle watched Grace drive away through the window and uncurled his fists before he punched a wall. Maybe he’d punch Liam instead.

He owed his brother one, after all, and it sure looked as though Liam was determined to be yet another roadblock in a series of roadblocks standing between Kyle and fatherhood. Most of the problems couldn’t be resolved easily. But Liam wanting Kyle’s kids? That was one thing that Kyle could do something about.

So he went looking for him.

Wade land surrounded the main house to the tune of about ten thousand acres. There was a time when a scouting mission like this one would have been no sweat, but with a messed-up leg, the trek winded Kyle about fifteen minutes in. Which sucked. It was tough to be sidelined, tough to reconcile no longer being in top physical condition. Tough to keep it all inside.

Kyle found Liam in the horse barn, which was situated a good half mile away from the main house. Barn was too simplistic a term to describe the grandiose building with a flagstone pathway to the entrance, fussy landscaping and a show arena on the far end. The ranch offices and a fancy lounge were tucked inside, but he didn’t bother to gawk. His leg hurt and the walk wasn’t far enough to burn off the mad Kyle had generated while talking to Grace.

Who was somehow even more beautiful than he recalled. How was that possible when he’d already put her on a pedestal in his mind as the ideal? How would any other woman ever compare? None could. And the lady herself still got him way too hot and bothered with a coy glance. It was enough to drive a man insane. She’d screwed him up so bad, he couldn’t do anything other than weekend flings, like the one he’d had with Margaret. Look where that had gotten him.

Grace was a great big problem in a whole heap of problems. But not one he could deal with this minute. Liam? That was something he could handle.

He watched Liam back out of a stall housing one of the quarter horses Wade Ranch bred commercially, waiting until his brother was clear of the door to speak. He had enough respect for the damage a spooked eleven-hundred-pound animal could do to a man to stay clear.

“What’s this crap about you wanting to adopt my kids?” he said when Liam noticed him.

Liam snorted. “Grace must have come by. She tell you to sign the papers?”

No one ordered Kyle around, least of all Grace.

“She told me you’ve got your sights set on my family.” He crossed his arms before he made good on the impulse to smash his brother in the mouth for even uttering Grace’s name. She’d meant everything to Kyle, but to Liam, she was yet another in a long line of his women. “Back off. I’m taking responsibility for them whether you like it or not.”

Sticking a piece of clean straw between his back teeth, Liam cocked a hip and leaned against the closed stall door as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Lazily, he rearranged his battered hat. “Tell me something. What’s the annual revenue Wade Ranch brings in for stud fees?”

“How should I know?” Kyle ground out. “You run the ranch.”

“Yeah.” Liam raised his brows sardonically. “Half of which belongs to you. Grandpa died almost two years ago, yet you’ve never lifted a finger to even find out what I do here. Money pours into your bank account on a monthly basis. Know how that happens? Because I make sure of it. I made sure of a lot of things while you ran around the Middle East blowing stuff up and ignoring your responsibilities at home. One of those things I do is take care of Maddie and Maggie. Because you weren’t here. Just like you weren’t here to take on any responsibility for the ranch. I will not let you be an absentee father like you’ve been an absentee ranch owner.”

“That’s a low blow,” Kyle said softly. Liam had always viewed Kyle’s stint as a SEAL with a bit of disdain, making it clear he saw it as a cop-out. “You wanted the ranch. I didn’t. But I want my girls, and I’m going to be here for them.”

Wade Ranch had never meant anything to him other than a place to live because it was the only one he had. Then and now. Mama had cut and run faster than you could spit, once she’d dumped him and Liam here with her father, then taken the Dallas real estate market by storm. Lillian Wade had quickly become the Barbara Corcoran of the South and forgot all about the two little boys she’d abandoned.

Funny how Liam had been so similarly affected by dear old Mama. Enough to want to guarantee his blood wouldn’t ever have to know the sting of desertion. Kyle respected the thought if not the action. But Kyle was one up on Liam, because those girls were his daughters. He wasn’t about to take lessons from Mama on how to be a runaway parent.

“Too little, too late,” his brother mouthed around the straw. “Hadley and I want to adopt them. I hope you have a good lawyer in your back pocket because you’re not getting those girls without a hell of a fight.”

God Almighty. The hits kept coming. He’d barely had time to get his feet under him from being sucker punched a minute after crossing the threshold of his childhood home, only to have Liam drop twin daughters, Grace Haines and a custody battle in his lap.

They stared at each other, neither blinking. Neither backing down. They were both stubborn enough to stand there until the cows came home, and probably would, too.

Nothing was going to get fixed this way, and with Grace’s admonition to prove he was serious about providing a stable environment for Maddie and Maggie ringing in his ears, he contemplated his mule-headed brother. He wanted help with the ranch? By God, he’d get it. And Kyle would have employment to put on his Fatherhood Résumé, which would hopefully get Grace off his back at the same time.

“Give me a job if it means so much to you that I take ranch ownership seriously. I’ll do something with the horses.”

Liam nearly busted a gut laughing, which did not improve Kyle’s grip on his temper. “You can feed them. But that’s about it. You have no training.”

And Kyle wasn’t at 100 percent physically, but no one had to know about that. His injuries mostly didn’t count anyway. It just meant he had to work that much harder, which he’d do. Those babies were worth a little agony.

“I can learn. You can’t have it both ways. Either you give me a shot at being half owner of Wade Ranch or shut up about it.”

“All right, smart-ass.” Liam tipped back his hat and jerked his chin at Kyle. “We got a whole cattle division here at Wade Ranch that’s ripe for improvement. I’ve been concentrating on the horses and letting Danny and Emma Jane handle that side. You take over.”

“Done.”

Kyle knew even less about cows than he did babies. But he hadn’t known anything about guns or explosives before joining the navy, either. BUD/S training had nearly broken him, but he’d learned how to survive impossible physical conditions, learned how to stretch his body to the point of exhaustion and still come out swinging when the next challenge reared its ugly head.

You had to start out with the mind-set that quitting wasn’t an option. Even the smallest mental slip would finish a man. So he wouldn’t slip.

Liam eyed him and shook his head. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. I’ll take my best shot at the cattle side of the ranch. Just one question. What am I aiming at?”

“We have a Black Angus breeding program. Emma Jane—she’s the sales manager I hired last year—is great. She sold about two hundred head. If you want me to call you successful, double that in under six months.”

That didn’t sound too bad, especially if there was a sales manager already doing the heavy lifting. “No problem. Now drop the whole adoption idea and we’ll call it even.”

“Let me see you in action, and then we’ll talk. I have yet to see anything that tells me you’re planning to stick around. If you take off again, the babies will be mine anyway. Might as well make it legal sooner rather than later.” Liam shrugged. “You made your bed by leaving. So lie in it for a while.”

Yeah, except he’d left for very specific reasons. He and Liam had never been close, and Kyle hadn’t felt as if he was part of anything until he’d found his brothers of the heart on a SEAL team. That’s where he’d finally felt secure. He could actually care about someone again without fear of being either abandoned or betrayed.

He’d like to say he could find a way to stay at the ranch this time. But what had changed from the first time? Not much.

Just that he was a father now. And he owed his daughters a stable home life. They were amazing little creatures that he wanted to see grow up. With the additional complications of Maddie’s health problems, he couldn’t relocate them at the drop of a hat, either.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kyle repeated for what felt like the four hundredth time.

Maybe if he kept saying it, people would believe him. Maybe he’d believe it, too.

Three

Kyle drove into town later that night on an errand for Hadley, who had announced at dinner that the babies were almost out of both diapers and formula. She’d seemed surprised when he said he’d go instead.

Of course he’d volunteered for the job. They were his kids. But he’d made Hadley write down exactly what he needed to buy, because the only formula he’d had exposure to was the one for making homemade explosives. List in his pocket, he’d swung into his truck, intending to grab the baby items and be back in jiffy.

But as he pulled into the lot at Royal’s one-and-only grocery store, Grace had just exited through the automatic sliding doors. Well, well, well. There was no way he was passing up this opportunity. He still had a boatload of questions for the girl he’d once given his heart to, only to have it handed back, shredded worse than Black Angus at a slaughterhouse.

Kyle waited until she was almost to her car, and then gingerly climbed from his truck to corner her between her Toyota and the Dooley in the next spot.

“Lovely night, isn’t it, Ms. Haines?”

She jumped and spun around, bobbling her plastic sack full of her grocery store purchases. “You scared me.”

“Guilty conscience maybe,” he offered silkily. No time like the present to give her a chance to own up to the crimes she’d committed so long ago. He might even forgive her if she just said she was sorry.

“No, more like I’m a woman in a dark parking lot and I hear a man speaking to me unexpectedly.”

It was a perfectly legitimate thing to say except the streetlight spilled over her face, illuminating her scowl and negating her point about a dark parking lot. She was that bent up about him saying hey outside of a well-lit grocery store?

He raised a brow. “This is Royal. The most danger you’d find in the parking lot of the HEB is a runaway shopping cart.”

“You’ve been gone a long time, Kyle. Things have changed.”

Yeah, more than he’d have liked. Grace’s voice had deepened. It was far sexier than he’d recalled, and he’d thought about her a lot. Her curves were lusher, as if she’d gained a few pounds in all the right places, and he had an unexpected urge to pull her against him so he could explore every last change, hands on.

Okay, the way he constantly wanted her? That was still the same. He’d always been crazy over her. She’d been an exercise in patience, making him wait until they’d been dating a year and she’d turned eighteen before she’d sleep with him the first time. And that had been so mind-blowing, he’d immediately started working on the second encounter, then the third. And so on.

The fact that he’d fallen in love with her along the way was the craziest thing. He didn’t make it a habit to let people in. She’d been an exception, one he hadn’t been able to help.

“You haven’t changed,” he said without thinking. “You’re still the prettiest girl in the whole town.”

Now why had he gone and said something like that? Just because it was true didn’t mean he should run off at the mouth. Last thing he needed was to give her the slightest opening. She’d slide right under his skin again, just as she’d done the first time, as if his barriers against people who might hurt him didn’t exist.

“Flattery?” She rolled her eyes. “That was a lame line. Plus, I already told you I’d handle your case impartially. There’s no point in trying to butter me up.”

Oh, so she thought she was immune to his charm, did she? He grinned and shifted his weight off his bad leg, cocking his right hip out casually as if he’d meant to strike that stance all along. “I wouldn’t dream of it. That was the God-honest truth. I’ve been around the world, and I know a thing or two about attractive women. No law against telling one so.”

“Well, I don’t like it. Are you really that clueless, Kyle?”

The scowl crawled back onto her face and it tripped his Spidey-sense. Or at least that’s what he’d always called it. He’d discovered in SEAL training that he had no small amount of skill in reading a situation or a person. Before then, he’d spent a lot of time by himself—purposefully—and never paid much attention to people’s tells. Honing that ability had served him well in hostile territory.

So he could easily see Grace was mad. At him.

What was that all about? She was the one who’d dumped him cold with no explanation other than she wanted to concentrate on school, which was bull. She’d been a straight-A student before they’d started dating and maintained her grade point average until the day she graduated a year after he had. Best he could figure, she’d wanted Liam instead and hadn’t wasted any time getting with his brother once she was free and clear.

“You got something to say, Grace?” He crossed his arms and leaned against her four-door sedan. “Seems like you got a bee in your bonnet.”

Maybe Liam had thrown her over too quickly and she’d lumped her hurt feelings into a big Wade bucket. And now he was giving her a second shot to spill it. He just wanted her to admit she’d hurt him and then say she was sorry. That she’d picked the wrong brother when she’d hooked up with Liam. Then maybe he could go on and meet someone new and exciting who didn’t constantly remind him that Kyle, women and relationships didn’t mix well. Maybe he’d even find a way to trust a woman again. He could finally move on from Grace Haines.

She licked her lips and stared at the sky over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not handling this well. The babies are important to me. All my cases are, but because we used to date, I want to ensure there’s no hint of impropriety. All the decisions I make should be based on facts and your ability to provide a good home. So please don’t say things like you think I’m pretty.”

Something that felt a lot like disappointment whacked him between the eyes. She had yet to mention the episode with Liam. Maybe she didn’t even know that Kyle had seen them together, or didn’t care. No, he’d never said anything to her about it, either, because some things should be obvious. You didn’t fool around with a guy’s brother. It was a universal law and if he had to spell that out, Grace wasn’t as great a girl as he’d always thought.

“Well, then,” Kyle said easily. “Maybe you should transfer my case to someone else in the county, so you don’t have to deal with my brand of truth.”

She probably didn’t even remember what she’d done with Liam and most likely thought Kyle had moved on. He should have moved on. It was way past time.

She shook her head. “Can’t. We’re overloaded. So we’re stuck with each other.”

Which meant she’d checked into it. That was somehow more disappointing than her skipping over the apology he was owed.

No matter.

Grace was just a woman he used to date. That’s all. There was nothing between them any longer. He’d spent years shutting down everything inside and he’d keep on doing it. Nothing new here.

And she had his babies and their future in the palm of her hand. This was the one person he needed on his side. They could both stand to act like adults about this situation and focus on what was good for the children. It would be a good idea to do exactly as he suggested to her and let bygones be bygones. Even though he hadn’t meant a word of it at the time.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, too. Let’s start over, friendly-like.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

She hesitated for an eternity and then reached out to take it.

The contact sang through his palm, setting off all kinds of fireworks in places that had been cold and dark for a really long time. Gripping his hand tight, she met his gaze and held it.

The depths of her brown eyes heated, melting a little of the ice in his heart.

Her mouth would be sweet under his, and her skin would be soft and fragrant. The moon had risen, spilling silver light over the parking lot, and the gentle breeze played with her hair. The atmosphere couldn’t be more romantic if he’d ordered it up. He barely resisted yanking her into his arms.

Yeah, he was in a lot of trouble if he was supposed to keep this friendly and impartial. She was his babies’ caseworker. But the fact of the matter was that he had never gotten over Grace Haines. He could no sooner shut down his feelings about her than he could pick up her Toyota with one hand. And being around her again was pure torture.

* * *

The next morning, Kyle woke at dawn the way he always did. He’d weaned himself off an alarm clock about two weeks into BUD/S training and hadn’t ever gone back.

He lay there staring at the ceiling of his old room at Wade House. Reorientation time. Not a SEAL. Not in Afghanistan. Not in the hospital—which had been its own kind of nightmare. This was the hardest part of the day. Every morning, he took stock, so he’d know who and where he was. Then he thanked God for the opportunity to serve his country and cursed the evil that had required it.

This was also the time of day when he made the decision to leave the pain pills in the bottle, where they belonged.

Some days, that decision was tougher than others. There was a deep, dark place inside that craved the oblivion the drugs would surely bring. That’s why he’d never cracked open the seal on the bottle. Too easy to have a mental slip and think just this once. That was cheating, and Kyle had never taken that route.

Today would not mark the start of it, either.

Today did mark the start of something, though. A new kind of taking stock about the things he was instead of the things he wasn’t. A father. A cattle rancher. He liked the sound of that. It was nice to have some positives to call out. He needed positives after six months of hell.

Of course, Grace would be watching over his shoulder, and Liam was going to be smack in the middle of Kyle’s steps toward fatherhood and ranching. The two people he distrusted the most and both held the keys to his future.

He rolled from bed and pulled on a new long-sleeved shirt, jeans and boots. Eventually, his wardrobe would be work-worn like Liam’s, but for now, he’d have to settle for looking like a rhinestone cowboy instead of a real one. Coffee beckoned, so he took the back stairway from the third floor to the ground floor kitchen, albeit a bit more slowly than he’d have liked.

Hadley had beaten him to the coffeepot and turned with a smile when he entered. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Fine,” he lied. He’d lain awake far too long thinking about how this woman and his brother wanted to take his kids away. “And you?”

“Great. The babies only woke up once and thankfully at the same time. It’s not always like that. Sometimes they wake up all night long at intervals.” She laughed good-naturedly and lowered her voice. “I think they plan it out ahead of time just to make me nuts.”

Guilt crushed Kyle’s lungs and he struggled to breathe. Some father he was. They’d agreed the night before that Hadley would continue in her role as Maddie and Maggie’s caretaker until Kyle got his feet under him, but it didn’t feel any more right this morning than it had then. His sister-in-law was getting up in the middle of the night with his kids, scant hours after he gave Liam and Grace a big speech about how he was all prepared to step up and provide a loving environment.

No more.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for my daughters,” he rasped, and cleared his throat. “But I want to take care of them from now on. I’ll get up with them at night.”

Hadley stared at him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

“Uh, well...” Should he brazen it out or admit defeat? God Almighty, he hated admitting any kind of weakness. But chances were good she’d already figured out he wasn’t the brightest bulb on the board when it came to babies. “I’m going to learn. Trial by fire is how I operate best.”

“They’re not going to pull out AK-47s, Kyle.” Hadley hid a smile but not very well and handed him a cup of steaming coffee. “Sugar and creamer are on the table.”

“I like it black, thanks.” He sipped and added good coffee to his list of things he was thankful for. “Tell me the things I need to know about my kids.”

“Okay.” She nodded and went over a list of basics, which Kyle committed to memory. Eating. Bathing. Sleeping. Check, check, check. Stuff all humans needed, but his little humans couldn’t do these things for themselves. He just had to help them, the way he would a wounded teammate.

“Can I see them?” he asked. Felt weird to be asking permission, but he didn’t want to mess up anything.

“You can. They’re sleeping, but we can sneak in. You can be quiet, right?”

“Quiet enough to take out a barracks full of enemy soldiers without getting caught,” he said without a trace of irony. Hadley just smiled as though he was kidding.

He followed Hadley to the nursery, a mysterious place full of pink and tiny beds with bars. The girls were asleep in their cribs, and he watched them for a moment, his throat tight. Their little faces—how could anything be that tiny and survive? A better question was, how did your heart stay stitched together when it felt as if it would burst from all the stuff swelling up inside it?

“I was their nanny first, you know,” she whispered. “Before I married Liam.”

What did a nanny even do? Was she like a babysitter and a substitute mom all rolled up into one? If so, that seemed like a bonus, and he’d be cutting off his nose to spite his face to relieve her of her duties. She could keep on being the nanny as far as he was concerned, as long as Grace was okay with it. She must be. Liam had hired Hadley, after all, and Grace seemed pretty impressed with them as a team.

“I’m not trying to take away your job,” he mumbled.

Did she see it as a job? If she and Liam wanted to adopt the girls, she’d obviously grown very attached to them. Was it better to cut off their contact with the babies instead? Get them used to the idea?

If so, he couldn’t do it. It seemed unnecessarily cruel and besides, he needed the help.

“I didn’t think you were. It’s admirable that you want to care for them, but there’s a huge learning curve and they won’t do well with a big disruption. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

He could do that. You didn’t drop a green recruit into the middle of a Taliban hotbed and expect him to wipe out the insurgents as his first assignment. You started him out with something simple, like surveillance. “Can I watch you feed them?”

“Sure, when they wake up.”

They tiptoed from the room and Kyle considered that a pretty successful start to Operation: Fatherhood.

Next up, Operation: Do Something About Grace. Because he’d lain awake last night thinking about her more than he’d wanted to, as well. Somehow, he had to shut down the spark between them. Or hose it off with a big, wet kiss.

* * *

Grace sat in her car outside of Wade House and pretended that she was going over some notes in her case file. In truth, her stomach was doing a cancan at the prospect of seeing Kyle again, and she couldn’t get it to settle.

She’d gone a long time without seeing him. What was so different now?

Nothing. She was a professional and she would do her job. Get out of the car, she admonished herself. Get in there and do your assessment. The faster she gathered the facts needed to remove the babies from Kyle’s presence and provide a recommendation for their permanent home, the better.

Hadley let her into the house and directed her to the second floor, where Kyle was hanging out with the babies. Perfect. She could watch him interact with them and record some impartial observations in her files.

But when Grace poked her head into the nursery with a bright smile, it died on her face. Kyle dozed in the rocking chair, Maddie against one shoulder, Maggie the other. Both babies were asleep, swaddled in soft pink blankets, an odd contrast to Kyle’s masculine attire.

But that wasn’t the arresting part. It was Kyle. Unguarded, vulnerable. Sweet even, with his large hands cradled protectively around each of his daughters. He should look ridiculous in the middle of a nursery decorated to the nth degree with girlie colors and baby items. But he looked anything but. His powerful body scarcely fit into the rocking chair, biceps and broad shoulders spilling past the edges of the back. He’d always been incredibly handsome, but on the wiry side.

No more. He was built like a tank, and she could easily imagine this man taking out any threat in a mile-wide radius.

It was a lot more affecting than she would ever admit.

And then his eyelids blinked open. He didn’t move a muscle otherwise, but his keen gaze zeroed in on her. Fully alert. Those hard green eyes cut through her, leaving her feeling exposed and much more aware of Kyle than she’d been a minute ago. Which was saying something, given her thoughts had already been pretty graphic.

It was heady to be in his sights like that. He’d always looked at her as if they shared something special that no one else could or would be involved in. But he’d honed his focus over the years into something new and razor sharp. Flustered, she wiggled her fingers in a half wave, and that’s when he smiled.

It hit her in the soft part of her heart and spread a warmth she did not want to feel. But oh, my, it was delicious. Like when he’d taken her hand in the parking lot last night. That feeling—she’d missed it.

She’d lain awake last night imagining that he’d kissed her the way she’d have sworn he wanted to as they stood under that streetlight. It was all wrong between them. Kissing wasn’t allowed, wasn’t part of the agenda, wasn’t what should happen. But it didn’t stop her from thinking about it.

She was in a lot of trouble.

“Hi,” she murmured, because she felt that she had to say something instead of standing there ogling a gorgeous man as he rocked his infant daughters against an explosion of pink.

“Hi,” he mouthed back. “Is it time for our visit already?”

She nodded. “I can come back.”

She didn’t move as he gave a slight shake of his head. Carefully, he peeled his body from the chair, not jostling even one hair on the head of his precious bundles. As if he’d done it a million times, he laid first one, then the other in their cribs. Neither one woke.

It was a sight to see.

He turned and tiptoed toward the door, but she hadn’t moved from her frozen stance in the doorway yet. She should move.

But he stopped right there in front of her, a half smile lingering on his lips as he laid a hand on her arm, presumably to usher her from the room ahead of him. His palm was warm and her skin tingled under it. The feeling threatened to engulf her whole body in a way that she hadn’t been engulfed in a long time.

Not since Kyle.

Goodness, it seemed so ridiculous, but the real reason it hadn’t been hard to stop dating was because no one compared. She was almost thirty and had only had one lover in her life—this man before her with the sparkling green eyes and beautiful face. And she’d take that secret to the grave.

Her cheeks heated as she imagined admitting such a thing to a guy who had likely cut a wide swath through the eligible women beating a path to his door. He hadn’t let the grass grow under his feet, now, had he? Fathering twins with a woman he’d written off soon after spoke loudly enough to that question.

If she told him, he’d mistakenly assume she still had feelings for him, and that wasn’t exactly true. She just couldn’t find a man who fit her stringent criteria for intimacy. Call it old-fashioned, but she wanted to be in love before making love. And most men weren’t willing to be that patient.

Except Kyle. He’d never uttered one single complaint when he found out she wasn’t hopping into his bed after a few weeks of dating. And oh, my, had it been worth the wait.

The heat in her cheeks spread, and the tingles weren’t just under his palm. No, they were a good bit more in a region where she shouldn’t be getting so hot, especially not over Kyle and his brand-new warrior’s body, laser-sharp focus and gentle hands.

Mercy, she should stop thinking about all that. Except he was looking at her the way he had last night, gaze on her lips, and she wondered if he’d actually do it this time—kiss her as he had so many times before.

One of the babies yowled and the moment broke into pieces.

Kyle’s expression instantly morphed into one of concern as he spun toward the crib of the crying infant. Maddie. It was easy to tell them apart if you knew she was the smaller of the two girls. She’d worn a heart monitor for a long time but Grace didn’t see the telltale wires poking out of the baby’s tiny outfit. Hopefully that meant the multiple surgeries had been successful.

“Hey, now. What’s all this fuss?” he murmured, and scooped up the bundle of pink, holding her to his shoulder with rocking motions.

The baby cried harder. Lines of frustration popped up around Kyle’s mouth as he kept trying different positions against his shoulder, rocking harder, then slower.

“You liked this earlier,” he said. “I’m following procedure here, little lady. Give me a break.”

Grace hid a smile. “Maybe her diaper is wet.”

Kyle nodded and strode to the changing table. “One diaper change, coming up.”

He pulled a diaper from the drawer under the table, laid the baby on the foam pad, then tied the holding straps designed to keep Maddie from rolling to the ground with intricate knots. Next, he lined up the baby powder and diaper rash cream, determination rolling from him in thick waves. When the man put his mind to something, it was dizzying to watch.

With precision, he stripped the baby out of her onesie and took a swift kick to the wrist with good humor as he changed her diaper. It didn’t help. The baby wailed a little louder.

“No problem,” he said. “Babies usually cry for three reasons. They want to be held. Diaper. And...” A line appeared between Kyle’s brows.

Then Maggie woke up and cried in harmony with her sister.

“Want me to pick her up?” Grace asked.

“No. I can handle this. Don’t count me out yet.” He nestled the other baby into his arms, rocking both with little murmurs. “Bottle. That was the other one Hadley said. We’ll try eating.”

Bless his heart. He’d gone to Hadley for baby lessons. He was trying so hard, much harder than she’d expected. It warmed her in a whole different way than the sizzle a moment ago. And the swell in her heart was much more dangerous.

The bottle did the trick. After Kyle got both girls fed, they quieted down and fell back asleep in their cribs. This time, he and Grace made it out of the room, but when they reached the living area off the kitchen, flustered was too kind a word for the state of her nerves.

Kyle collapsed on the couch with a groan.

“So,” she croaked after taking a seat as far away from him as possible. “That was pretty stressful.”

“Nah.” He scrubbed his face with his hand and peeked out through his fingers. “Stressful is dismantling a home-made pipe bomb before it kills someone.”

They’d never talked about his life in the military—largely because he was so closemouthed about it—and judging from the shadows she glimpsed in his expression sometimes, the experience hadn’t softened him up any, that was for sure. “Is that what you did overseas? Handle explosives?”

Slowly, he nodded. “That was my specialty, yeah.”

He could have died. Easily. A hundred times over, and she’d probably never have known until they paraded his flag-draped coffin through the streets of Royal. The thought was upsetting in a way she really didn’t understand, which only served to heighten her already-precarious emotional state.

He’d been serving his country, not using the military as an excuse to stay away. The realization swept through her, blowing away some of her anger and leaving in its place a bit of guilt over never acknowledging his sacrifices in the name of liberty.

“And now you’re ready to buckle down and be a father.”

It seemed ludicrous. This powerful, strapping man wanted to trade bombs for babies. But when she recalled the finesse he used when handling the babies, she couldn’t deny that he had a delicate touch.

“I do what needs to be done,” he said quietly, and his green eyes radiated sincerity that she couldn’t quite look away from.

When had Kyle become so responsible? Such an adult? He was different in such baffling, subtle ways that she kept stumbling in her quest to objectively assess his fitness as a parent.

“Did you give any thought to our discussion yesterday?” she asked.

“The job? I signed on to head up Wade Ranch’s cattle division. How’s that for serious?”

Kyle leaned back against the couch cushions, looking much more at home in this less formal area than he’d been in the Victorian parlor yesterday, and crossed one booted foot over his knee. Cowboy boots, not the military-issue black boots he’d been wearing yesterday. It was a small detail, but a telling one.

He’d quietly transitioned roles when she wasn’t looking. Could it mean he’d been telling the truth when he’d said he planned to stay this time?

“It’s a start,” she said simply, but that didn’t begin to describe what was actually starting.