if she had bribed them. As long as they were safe and happy, he wasn’t questioning anything.
“I think you’re a miracle worker,” Grant said, laying his arm across the back of her chair and finding himself in intimate proximity. Not only was he close enough to touch her, but those last three inches put him in the direct line of seeing her smooth, shiny hair up close. He also caught a whiff of her scent. A flowery bouquet hit him so unexpectedly, he didn’t stop himself from catching it.
The soft fragrance brought him spontaneous ecstasy and he automatically inhaled again. But he rationalized that he still didn’t have anything to worry about. So what if he’d inadvertently lingered over that scent a little longer than he should have? It didn’t mean anything. He had his perspective firmly grounded. He had no intention of getting involved with this woman. He simply had enjoyed her cologne. No big deal. In fact, he wouldn’t mind another whiff. As silently as possible, he sniffed the air, then narrowed his eyes in pleasure.
“Well, good morning, Grant,” Evan said, stepping into the room, carrying Cody.
Caught red-handed, Grant leaped out of the chair. “Evan!” he said, realizing too late that the move made him look even more guilty.
Evan gasped. “You shaved!”
Grant nonchalantly rubbed his clean chin. “I was tired of the beard.”
Big-eyed and incredulous, Evan grinned. “Really?”
“Really.” Grant mimicked, his eyes narrowing in warning.
Still grinning, Evan strolled a little farther into the kitchen. “Looks like you and Kristen are getting along very well…with the children.”
Though everyone else in the room appeared oblivious, Grant recognized that Evan had added enough of a pause in his statement to get in a pointed, inappropriate jab of teasing.
Mature, proper, Grant chose not to rise to the bait. He even knew how to nip his brother’s misconception in the bud. “Actually Kristen’s handled everything herself. I was just trying to figure out what she’d done to get the kids to behave so well this morning.”
“I could see that,” Evan agreed, the teasing still in his voice, and his eyes bright with the joy of tormenting his older brother. “The way you were leaning right in there, so close to Kristen…and the girls,” he said, again adding the second part of the statement after another significant pause. “I could see that you were trying to…figure out Kristen’s secrets.”
Grant glared at his brother. His first instinct was to call Evan a moron. Instead he picked up his coffee cup, gulped down the steamy liquid and strode toward the back door. For the love of God, the woman was young enough to be his…sister. Sister. Not daughter. He refused to say daughter. Refused. He wasn’t that old. Only thirty-six. And she had to be at least twenty-three. Maybe even twenty-four or twenty-five. To have been married and widowed, Kristen could even be a year or two older. She acted older. She looked older. Hell, she looked at least twenty-five….
He stopped himself. Was he arguing for or against her?
“And, really, Grant, you’re so much more attractive without the beard,” Evan said, still teasing. “Though I have to wonder why you didn’t shave for Chas’s wedding. That would have made more sense than waiting until after the ceremony and the pictures and everything. I wonder what could have happened since the wedding to change your mind.”
The more Evan needled him, the more obvious and idiotic Grant felt. If his brother had noticed the way he was carrying on, and deduced why Grant had shaved, then the only person Grant was fooling was himself. He needed to somehow regain his perspective, and he had to behave when he was forced to be around Kristen instead of letting unruly, hormone-driven instincts take over. No more confidence sharing. No more dressing to look better because she was around. And definitely no more sniffing the air.
He grabbed the doorknob. “I have meetings until noon, and I don’t think I can be back to help with lunch. Mrs. Romani, I want pot roast for supper.”
“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Romani said, saluting him as he stormed out of the door.
Kristen breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone, then rose and reached for Cody. “Hello, honey,” she cooed sweetly to the little boy.
He peered at her, his face puckered into a scowl, and before Kristen realized what was happening he began to cry.
“Oh, oh,” Evan said, taking Cody back again. “I think he’s making strange.”
“Making strange?” Kristen asked, alarmed that her own nephew wouldn’t like her, though she realized the poor kid couldn’t like someone he didn’t know.
“We spoil him,” Evan admitted with a grimace.
“There’s an understatement,” Mrs. Romani said, laughing as she began tidying up the kitchen.
Cody continued to cry and within seconds had both of his sisters wailing with him.
“There goes your run of good luck,” Mrs. Romani said wryly.
“As long as Grant didn’t see them, I don’t care,” Kristen said without thinking. She forgot Evan was as much of a consideration as Grant until the words were already out of her mouth. Stumbling to recover, she added, “Once I start playing with them, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Evan gave her a sympathetic look. “Not when they’re this wound up,” he said amiably, as if dealing with the kids was second nature to him and not something that got him flustered or frazzled. “I’ll call Claire and see if she can rearrange our schedules so that one or both of us can stay with you this morning.”
Kristen peeked at Mrs. Romani.
Mrs. Romani subtly nodded her endorsement that Kristen could take the offer without fear of reprisal.
The breath she was holding burst out in a whoosh. “You mean it?”
“Of course,” Evan said, walking to the wall phone by the door. Juggling Cody and dialing simultaneously, he added, “We’re all trying to work together here, but Grant’s the one with the most input. If he doesn’t like the way you’re handling the kids, he won’t keep you.”
Kristen smiled with sardonic acknowledgment. “I figured that out for myself.”
“Not a problem. We’ll teach you the ropes,” Evan said, dismissing the whole business as if it were no big deal. “Before this is all over, Claire and I will turn you into a professional.”
“You’d do that for me?”
He shrugged. “You and the kids.”
A wave of gratitude washed over Kristen until she realized what had just happened. Not only had she let down her guard with one of the brothers, but that same brother had put the health, safety and well-being of the triplets ahead of his business.
Kristen stopped that line of thought because that wasn’t precisely what he had done as much as it was her interpretation of what he’d done.
Besides, she wasn’t here to make any determinations about the Brewsters, whether or not they were good caretakers or whether or not she should feel guilty about wanting to get custody of the triplets. She was here to prove herself. Even if the only thing she could get from these men was the opportunity to take the kids to Texas long enough to get the ranch, she still had to prove to them that she was capable of handling three babies for the time they would be in her custody.
If anything, she’d just scored a strike against herself.
Dinner with the Brewster triplets was an adventure.
Though Claire had stayed with Kristen through the morning, and even helped with lunch, she needed to get back to the lumber mill and left Kristen alone to handle the afternoon by herself. Given that the children typically took a long nap, neither Kristen nor Claire felt there would be a problem, but the kids didn’t seem to want to sleep.
They