Triple treat (14 page)

"Good. So where do you buy them?"

Staring strangely at him, Cole mentioned the names of several places.

"Thanks!" Tyler clapped his brother on the back. "And in case I don't see you back at the office later, have a good weekend."

"Thank you, I will." Cole continued to eye his brother. "Chelsea and I are planning to take Daniel and the baby to the beach this weekend."

Tyler imagined the triplets playing in the sand and running into the waves at the water's edge. He grinned.

"They'll have a great time. Probably try to eat the sand, though." If they were willing to sample paper napkins, they would undoubtedly try to snack on sand.

Cole was completely taken aback. "What? No expounding on the hell of traveling with small children? What about your theory that it's stupid to take little kids anywhere because they never know where they are, anyway?"

"You just have to persevere, brother. Kids are a lot smarter than people give them credit for." With that, Tyler headed toward the parking garage, leaving his wide-eyed brother standing speechless on the sidewalk.

Eight

' i Okay -—ready, set, go!" called Tyler.

An excited, grinning Dylan jumped into the pool. His head bobbed above the water and he kicked his little legs, splashing and shrieking with delight, being kept safely afloat by his bright orange life jacket.

Tyler ferried him through the water to the part of the pool where Carrie was pulling Emily and Franklin around in a blow-up plastic boat.

Dylan began to flail his arms and legs wildly. "Go!" he demanded. "Go, go!"

Tyler groaned. The little boy had been jumping into the pool for the past twenty minutes. "He can't want to do it again! He's already made at least a hundred-fifty jumps. And that's a conservative estimate."

Carrie sensed his endurance waning. "Why don't you give Emily and Franklin a boat ride and I'll catch Dylan when he jumps in," she suggested.

"Lady, you've got a deal," Tyler said gratefully.

It was nearly eight o'clock, well past the children's bedtime, and they were having their second swim of the day. He'd fetched them at five-thirty and brought them all over to the pool to swim for an hour, then ordered Chinese food for everybody, which they'd eaten back at Carrie's place. He'd been amused at the triplets' introduction to sweet-and-sour chicken, a dish they had heartily, if messily, consumed right down to the last piece of sauce-drenched pineapple. In an expansive, indulgent mood, he had suggested a return to the pool, and Carrie had immediately agreed.

It was a far different scene in and around the pool this Friday than it had been this time last week. Tyler looked at the plethora of toys floating in the water, all of which he had purchased earlier that day, along with the orange life jackets the children wore. An old song, "If My Friends Could See Me Now" played mockingly in his head.

He blocked it out and trained his eyes on Carrie, who was standing in the shallow water, waiting for Dylan to complete his one-hundred-seventy-ninth jump. She was wearing her yellow-and-white polka dot swimsuit, and his gaze lingered on the creamy bare skin of her midriff. Moving closer, he could clearly see the enticing thrust of her nipples against the wet, clinging fabric of her swimsuit.

He imagined himself lowering the bra of her suit and looking at her, touching her, putting his mouth on those sensitive little peaks. Tyler felt his body stir. To distract himself, he dove under the water and resurfaced behind the boat. Emily and Franklin laughed. They thought he was playing some aquatic version of peekaboo. Fortunately, they were too young and innocent to know that he was caught in the throes of lust for their sweet, devoted mother.

"Speedboat ride," he called out, a little desperately. He pulled the boat through the water, back and forth, faster and faster, the children crowing with delight. The exercise was a very effective antidote for lust.

"Shall we do this again tomorrow?" he asked Carrie half an hour later, as they hauled the three crying babies across the yard toward her house. The children had been incensed at being taken out of the water. All three had screamed at the top of their lungs in protest—and kept howling, all the way home.

Tyler was oddly flattered. He interpreted their reaction as the toddlers' way of saying they'd had the time of their young lives.

Carrie was amazed that he'd invited them again. She had watched him playing with the kids in the water all evening, without a single break from them. When the triple tantrum had begun, she'd expected him to flee gratefully, not issue a repeat invitation.

Her eyes were drawn to Tyler's shoulders and chest, wet and sleek with water, the dark hair matted to his skin. He held Franklin and Dylan in his strong arms, and they looked small and safe there, clinging to Tyler exhaustedly while wailing that the fun had to end. A bittersweet pang assailed her.

They carried the children inside the house and up to their room. "You haven't given me an answer, you know." Tyler pressed, setting the two little boys down. "What about swimming tomorrow?"

"You know they'd love to." Carrie knelt to dry all three wet, squirming toddlers, "But do you really want to—"

"Do you want to?" he cut in, leaning against the wall, watching her. She moved as quickly as the children, her every motion competent and efficient.

"Yes," she admitted softly. She tackled Dylan and stuffed him into his pajamas while Emily and Franklin, giggling now, threw themselves on the big stuffed panda in the corner of the room. She would have them all dressed and in bed in under ten minutes and then she and Tyler would be alone

"Okay. We'll swim after their afternoon nap tomorrow," Tyler said decisively, walking out the door. "See you then. 'Night kids," he called.

Carrie felt a hot rush of tears sting her eyes. They pooled there, burning but not falling, while she put the babies into their cribs, while she showered and washed her hair. Tyler hadn't stayed, and who could blame him for leaving?

"Do you get your kicks turning me on so you can have the pleasure of stopping me cold?" he'd asked. He thought she was a tease. Carrie thought of the wild desire and hot pleasure his kisses and caresses evoked, and she shuddered with need. No, there was absolutely no pleasure in stopping what she was coming to want more and more.

But what if she didn't stop him? What if she were to cast aside all caution and control and make love with Tyler? It was an out-of-character question about an equally out-of-character act. She'd never been one to casually indulge in sex for sex's sake. Her only lover had been Ian Wilcox, and they'd waited until their wedding night to make love for the first time because she'd wanted to be a virgin bride.

But she wasn't a virgin anymore, and Tyler wasn't the easy-to-please, placid man Ian had been. Tyler was demanding and impulsive, aggressive and confident. And sexy. She thought of his intense, green-eyed gaze, of the way he touched her, kissed her. A hot twist of excitement unwound deep inside her and the sudden acceleration of her pulses left her breathless.

Call him! urged a wild little voice inside her head. Firmly, swiftly, Carrie stifled the impulse with a harsh reality check. She was not going to have her heart broken, like poor Alexa who had confused a man's desire with a man's love. She was not going to be hurt by another loss in her life. She had her children, she had her work. She was not going to have Tyler Tremaine, and the sooner she stopped wanting him...

Carrie gulped back the unexpected sob that rose in her throat. She had to stop wanting him!

Tyler held a wailing Emily in his arms as he stood in the doorway and watched Carrie, dressed in her white nurse's uniform, drive away from the house. Alexa was trying to comfort an equally distraught Franklin and Dylan.

"Mommy!" shrieked Emily, as if her heart was breaking. Tyler felt a searing pang of empathy. He knew from firsthand experience how it felt to be a young child, crying for a mother who wasn't there.

"It's a damn shame Carrie has to leave these children every weekend," he said fiercely, speaking his thoughts aloud. "They're babies—they need their mother. They shouldn't have to be without her."

"I know," Alexa said quietly. "I think so, too."

Tyler looked at her in surprise. He hadn't expected Carrie's sister to agree with anything he had to say. Alexa had been coolly aloof toward him since she'd arrived a half hour ago to find him eating hot dogs in the backyard with Carrie and the triplets. She'd barely said a word when Carrie told her about their earlier afternoon swim in Tyler's pool, but it didn't take his much-vaunted assessing skills to divine Alexa's wary disapproval.

He'd stuck around, probably because Carrie and Alexa expected him to leave and he did not want to be so predictable. He hadn't counted on the triplets' harrowing reaction to Carrie's departure for the hospital. They'd burst into tears when they saw her in her uniform and frantically clung to her, despite her attempts to comfort them. Finally, Tyler and Alexa had to pry the three loose so Carrie could get out the door. Tyler was still disturbed. It was terrible to have to wrench small children from their mother. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right!

"Let's have some ice cream!" Alexa said in an overly loud, overly cheerful voice. "Come on, let's go into the kitchen and have ice cream, right now!"

She led the still-sniffling Dylan and Franklin away from the door toward the kitchen. From her perch in his arms,

Emily looked Tyler directly in the eye. "I keem?" she asked. A shuddering sob shook her little body, and she lay her head down on Tyler's shoulder.

Tyler hugged her tight. "Emily, Mommy will be back soon, I promise. And tomorrow we'll go swimming again. We'll ride in your boat, too. Now, let's go get some ice cream before those brothers of yours eat it all up." He kept up a running commentary as he carried her into the kitchen.

Instead of putting her in the high chair, he held the little girl on his lap while she ate her ice cream. He chatted to Dylan and Franklin as they sat in their chairs, shoveling ice cream into their mouths. He noted with interest that all three used their spoons far more effectively with the ice cream than with yesterday's cereal and milk. He filed away the fact for future reference.

"Looks like the ice cream did the trick," Tyler remarked. "Nobody's crying anymore."

Alexa, sitting across the table from him, actually smiled. "I know it's probably wrong, but I bribe them with ice cream or cookies every time Carrie leaves. I hate to see them cry. I hope they get over their separation anxiety before I turn them into blimps!"

"That'll never happen. Not the way this trio expends energy." Tyler retrieved a blob of vanilla ice cream that Emily accidentally dropped on his shirt. "You watch the kids for both shifts, every single weekend Carrie works?"

Alexa nodded.

For the first time, Tyler truly appreciated all that that entailed. "That's extremely generous of you," he said thoughtfully.

Alexa shrugged. "I'd do anything to help Carrie and the babies."

"But it's quite a sacrifice for you to make, giving up every weekend to baby-sit. What if you have... plans?"

"You mean, like a date? No problem. I've retired from dating," Alexa replied succinctly.

Tyler laughed. "Oh, come on! You're too young to say that. And way too pretty to have no social life. You're—"

"You sound like my mother/' Alexa said dryly. "Why is it so hard to believe that I'd rather spend my weekends with my adorable niece and nephews than to pursue the dating scene?" She made it sound akin to food poisoning.

Tyler's brows narrowed. "Does your premature retirement from dating have something to do with Ryan Casr sidy?"

Alexa froze. "I don't want to talk about him. Not now ox ever."

The wounds inflicted by Cassidy hadn't yet healed, Tyler concluded. He wondered what had happened between them and how long ago. Could brother Ben's atrocious deed have been justifiable? But he knew by looking into Alexa's haunted blue eyes that this was not a subject to be pursued.

"How long has Carrie been working those back-to-back killer shifts?" he asked instead.

Alexa visibly relaxed. "She went back to work shortly after the triplets' first birthday. Mom and I didn't want her to, but Dad told her she ought to get back out into the world, that she needed the confidence that comes with being able to support herself and her family."

"That sounds awfully harsh to me," Tyler remarked, frowning his disapproval.

"Not harsh," countered Alexa. "Tough. Practical. That's Daddy. He's a colonel in the air force and his motto is 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going.' Dad genuinely wanted to help Carrie cope."

"Then why didn't he and your mother help her with the triplets?"

"They did," Alexa said. "She went to live with them right after Ian was killed, while she was still pregnant. She and the babies lived with them until three months ago, when Dad got orders to go overseas to Germany. Carrie didn't want to go with them, and she'd inherited this place from Ian's un-

cle, so she decided to move in here. She says Daddy was right about her working, that she really did start to feel more confident and independent. But I know how hard this schedule is on her. Since I work all week—I'm a physical therapist at the Hospital Center—Carrie takes care of the triplets without help from anyone, and she does a wonderful job of it. I think it's the babies and the passage of time that's helped her cope with Ian's loss."

"Do you think that she—"

"You're interested in my sister, aren't you?" Alexa interrupted. "Don't bother to deny it. I've seen the way you look at her."

"We're friends," Tyler said cautiously.

"I've seen some of your friends, last week at that party of yours." Alexa eyed him sternly. "I'm warning you now— don't even think of including my sister in that group."

And Tyler, who didn't take kindly to being lectured or threatened, and usually retaliated in kind, merely replied, "You're very loyal to your sister. But you don't have to worry about Carrie. I'm currently on sabbatical from the dating and party scene myself."