Tanya Michaels – A Dad for Her Twins (страница 1)
“So it’s a date?”
“If by ‘date’ you mean a mutually agreed upon and strictly platonic social outing intended to cheer up my daughter, then yes.”
JT didn’t seem offended. In fact, his lips actually twitched as if he might…
Yowza. In teir few exchanges, she’d never seen him truly smile. Now a grin transformed his whole face, making his memorable gray eyes bright with humor.
“It’s a date,” he repeated, giving her one last unreadable look before walking past to tell the kids that he’d see them next weekend.
Kenzie, her legs feeling unsteady, stood listening to her daughter’s exultant whoop of delight and the door closing as JT left.
Had she just received a glimpse of the man he’d once been? Because, despite what she’d said about not forming attachments at Peachy Acres, she suspected she could very much enjoy getting to know that man.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to THE STATE OF PARENTHOOD miniseries, Harlequin American Romance’s celebration of parenthood and place. In this, our 25th year of publishing great books, we’re delighted to bring you these heartwarming stories that sing the praises of the home state of six different authors, and share the many trials and delights of being a parent.
In A Dad for Her Twins by Tanya Michaels, Kenzie Green is not looking for a new man in her life—and her neighbor JT most certainly isn’t looking for instant fatherhood. Despite their outlooks, they find themselves thrown together at the end of one steamy Atlanta summer—thanks to a bit of matchmaking by her well-meaning twins!
There are five other books in the series. We hope you didn’t miss Tina Leonard’s Texas Lullaby (June ’08), Smoky Mountain Reunion by Lynnette Kent (July ’08) or Cowboy Dad by Cathy McDavid (August ’08). Next month watch for Margot Early’s Holding the Baby, a story about a woman who is carrying a child for her sister…a sister who suddenly decides she no longer wants the baby. Watch for our final book in the series, A Daddy for Christmas by Laura Marie Altom, when we head west to Oklahoma for a family holiday story you’ll never forget.
We hope these romantic stories inspire you to celebrate where you live—because any place you raise a child is home.
Wishing you happy reading,
Kathleen Scheibling
Senior Editor
Harlequin American Romance
A Dad for Her Twins
Tanya Michaels
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tanya Michaels started telling stories almost as soon as she could talk…and started stealing her mom’s Harlequin romances less than a decade later. In 2003, Tanya was thrilled to have her first book, a romantic comedy, published by Harlequin Books. Since then, Tanya has sold nearly twenty books and is a two-time recipient of a Booksellers’ Best Award, as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion, National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award. Tanya lives in Georgia with her husband, two preschoolers and an unpredictable cat, but you can visit Tanya online at www.tanyamichaels.com.
My heartfelt thanks to Kathleen Scheibling for including me in the State of Parenthood series, and all my love to Ryan and Hailey, even if you do keep my life in a perpetual State of Chaos.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
“Peachy Acres is a stupid name,” Drew complained from the backseat.
Thank you, Mr. Optimism. Mackenzie Green, intrepid single mom and owner of a minivan that was older than her nine-year-old twins, sighed inwardly.
Kenzie empathized with her son’s unhappiness over moving, but his negative commentary was making the four-hour trip from Raindrop, North Carolina, to Atlanta, Georgia, feel like an interminable cross-country trek. Or a voyage in space, she thought, vaguely recalling some old movie promo about no one being able to hear you scream. Too often Kenzie felt as if she were screaming on the inside.
Behind her, Leslie had adopted the prim, emphatic tone that made her sound like a cranky schoolteacher. “I’m sure it’s called Peachy Acres because Georgia is the Peach State,” she informed her brother.
Drew was unimpressed. “Know-it-all. I hate when you talk like you’re older than me. We’re the same age!”
“A person doesn’t have to be older to be smarter.”
“All right!” Kenzie took a breath, reminding herself that deep feelings of maternal love prevented her from strapping the kids to the roof for the duration of the trip. Well, maternal love and state laws. “You two be nice.”
She was always a touch envious when she heard about inseparable twins who dressed alike and finished each other’s sentences. It would be bliss if her children could just go a day without bickering. Heck, an hour—she wasn’t picky! Tensions were running abnormally high today; the kids had said goodbye to the only home they’d ever known.
Leslie was coping by burying her nose in a young-adult reference book about Georgia during the Civil War, despite her increased tendency to get carsick while reading. Drew, as had become his habit this past spring, was channeling his misery into anger. Would the new setting do him good, giving him the chance for a fresh start and provide distractions like the zoo and natural-science museum, or were Kenzie’s difficulties with her son about to get worse?
She’d debated turning down this transfer to a Georgia branch of the bank she worked for, but the Atlanta location had far more frequent job openings than the small bank in Raindrop, including the position of loan officer, to which she was being promoted. The stress of moving and the higher cost of living seemed worth the much-improved salary and increased odds of upward mobility. Another plus was that Kenzie’s sister lived in the Atlanta area. Even if the two hadn’t been close as children, it would do Kenzie and her kids some good to have family nearby. Nice, stable family.
Besides, although Kenzie was fond of the little town they’d been living in, she was looking forward to having the kids in a different school. She’d chosen their new home based largely on the district in which it was located. At the tiny elementary school in Raindrop, there had been no gifted curriculum to challenge bookish Leslie, and many of the instructors were a stone’s throw from retirement. Drew’s third-grade teacher, who had only a year left to go, had lacked the energy to address Drew’s growing number of outbursts in class, countermanding Kenzie’s warnings that losing his temper would carry consequences. Not that Kenzie blamed Mrs. Blaugarten for Drew’s behavior problems.
While Drew had always been active, last spring had been the first time he’d taken his extracurricular sports seriously. He’d been surrounded by fathers coaching teams and volunteering to work the concession stands, dads coming to watch their sons score goals in soccer or hit a baseball into the outfield. For Drew, the runs he batted in paled in comparison to the fact his father had never witnessed them, despite glib promises to be there.
“Mo-om?” Leslie’s plaintive wail cut through Kenzie’s thoughts. “I don’t feel so—”
“Pull over!” Drew yelled in a panicked voice. “She’s gonna blow!”
Kenzie signaled with her blinker as Drew urged, “Hurry!”
Spoken like someone who’s never tried to drive a minivan hauling a loaded trailer. She steered gently onto the shoulder, kicking herself for not insisting that Leslie put aside her books for once and sing along to the radio or, better yet, take a catnap to make the ride pass faster.
In the grassy ditch on the side of the road, Kenzie smoothed her daughter’s blond hair and handed over a bottle of water from the minicooler in the front seat. Moments later, they were back on the road. Leslie was sufficiently recovered to start bickering with her brother again.
As she stemmed off the burgeoning argument, Kenzie met her own gaze in the rearview mirror. Are we there yet?
“KIDS? KIDS, WE’VE MADE it to Aunt Ann’s street.”
Both children had fallen asleep…during the final ten minutes of the drive. Naturally. Kenzie might have enjoyed the few moments of peace more if she weren’t so tired herself. She’d been up at dawn to finish last-minute packing before getting the rental trailer this morning. After loading up their possessions and driving for hours, Kenzie’s entire body ached.
Leslie lifted her head from its crooked angle against the seat and peered out the window. It was after seven but, due to the long summer days, still bright outside. Well-dressed children played on shiny scooters in driveways outside two-car, and even the occasional three-car, garages. The first time she’d been here, Kenzie had wrestled with twinges of resentment—who was she to question why the heck Ann and Forrest Smith needed a palatial, redbrick two-story to themselves? It wasn’t their fault that Kenzie and the kids owned a secondhand couch with upholstery so garish it brought to mind the Las Vegas strip, or that they hadn’t been able to afford replacing the dishwasher. Besides, Ann and Forrest had started a family now, so they’d probably grow into the space.