Name Club ever have a time getting her and Jake together. But all’s well that ends well.”
His thoughts on the Double Name Club—more notoriously known as the Truelove Matchmakers—were best left unvoiced. GeorgeAnne Allen. IdaLee Moore. ErmaJean Hicks.
The sixtysomething ladies were infamous for poking their powdered noses where they didn’t belong. They took the town motto—Truelove, Where True Love Awaits—a little too seriously.
Apparently, gentle, auburn-haired Callie Jackson had been their latest victim. He felt a surge of empathy for the unknown Jake McAbee. Fortunately for Ethan, he’d always been too much of a black sheep for the ladies to ever target him.
Then as if on cue, the uncontested leader of the matchmaker pack, Miss GeorgeAnne, poked her nose into the hospital room. “Reporting for duty.”
Amber bristled. Angular and bony, GeorgeAnne had that effect on people. “I think it best if I take the girls home myself, Miss GeorgeAnne.”
Married, divorced or spinster, the “Miss” was an honorary title of respect bestowed on any Southern lady who was your elder. No matter if the “Miss” was elderly or not.
“Nonsense. You needn’t miss your class.” The old woman’s glacier-blue eyes sparked over the twins. “I figure if nothing else, the girls and I can sort a bucket of bolts at the hardware store.”
Lucy’s eyes rounded.
Stella’s rosebud lips flattened. “No bolts, Miss G’Anne.”
Good for her. He felt a ridiculous, misplaced pride. Another Truelove rebel in the making. GeorgeAnne wasn’t exactly his definition of maternal. He felt bad for the girls.
Amber’s face tightened. “I should’ve never allowed you to talk me into this, Miss ErmaJean. The girls are my responsibility. Why did I ever think I could—”
“It’s been a trying day, but I won’t let you throw in the stethoscope over this little bump in the road.” Grandma waved her hand. “If you hurry, you can still get to class on time.”
Ethan rocked on his heels. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’d say your leg in a cast is more than a bump in the road, Grandma.”
His grandmother lifted her chin. “What’s going on here is that Amber’s come too far in her nursing studies to quit now.”
“Miss ErmaJean—”
“It’s settled.” Grandma Hicks shrugged. “At least for tonight. We’ll work out something. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”
He grimaced. “Why can’t your husband take care of the girls, Amber?”
Lucy tugged at his jacket. “We don’t have a daddy, Efan.”
And the bottom fell out of his stomach.
GeorgeAnne pursed her thin lips. Grandma looked like she wanted to strangle him. Without meaning to, he’d put his foot in it.
The shock at seeing Ethan again was not dissimilar to the stinging jolt Amber had felt when once she overturned one of her father’s rafts into the freezing cold water of the river.
But the sensation was the same. Fighting her way to the surface, gasping for air. Her heart in overdrive. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real.
Amber shook herself slightly, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. Ethan Green wasn’t an illusion. Standing beside Miss ErmaJean’s hospital bed, he was as real and solid as the granite rocks of the North Carolina mountains.
She tried not to gape at him. The broad shoulders, the well-muscled chest beneath the jacket, the six-pack waist that tapered to his jeans. This man she didn’t know—the man who’d fulfilled the youthful potential of the boy she’d once loved so impossibly. This man robbed her of coherent thought.
Amber wasn’t sure why her brother hadn’t told Ethan about the last five years of her life. When he and Matt left for basic training, she believed she’d never see Ethan again. His leave-taking had been so final. He’d been so exultant about finally gaining his freedom from the small-town life he hated.
Freedom. A concept she barely remembered. She tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. His gaze followed the motion of her hand. And something fluttered like the wings of a butterfly inside her rib cage.
Ethan’s gold-flecked hazel eyes were as intense as ever. She swallowed against the rush of feeling. What was wrong with her?
He’d surprised her, that’s all. She hadn’t expected to see him here. Not after so much time. No big deal.
Especially on a day like today when her plans to make a better life for her children were falling to pieces.
She endeavored to get her traitorous heart to settle down. No easy task when it came to the boy she’d had a schoolgirl crush on since she was... Eleven?
As far back as memory served, there’d been her, Matt, Ethan and Callie. Inseparable. Or that’s what she’d believed until Ethan made a deal with Matt, convincing her brother to also join the Marines after graduation.
She and Callie had been left behind. At sixteen, she’d never dreamed being left behind would become the story of her life. She finished growing up alone, the hard way. Experience, a bitter teacher.
Why was he staring at her? Self-conscious, she smoothed her hand over her scrubs. Well aware the years hadn’t been kind. But he could at least pretend not to look so...so shocked.
Was it her appearance or single motherhood that shocked him the most? Her ex-husband, Lucy and Stella’s father, had been an irresponsible jerk, but she worked hard to make sure the twins never suffered for her errors in judgment.
She fingered the end of the stethoscope. “Girls, tell everyone good-night.”
“Night-night, Gigi.” Lucy smiled at Ethan. “You, too, Efan.”
Stella glued herself to Amber’s leg.
“I was kidding about the bolts.” GeorgeAnne planted her hands on her bony hips. “I’ve heard you two girls like milkshakes. I wasn’t misinformed, was I? Thought we might swing by the drive-through on the way to your house.”
Lucy immediately abandoned Ethan. “I wike vaniwaa, Miss G’Anne.”
Stella made a face. “I like strawberry-vanilla-chocolate ice cream.”
GeorgeAnne’s mouth quirked. “Who doesn’t?”
Amber quickly calculated how much money her depleted wallet contained. Not enough for milkshakes. “I’m sorry, girls, but—”
GeorgeAnne raised her hand. “My treat. Got nothing but a passel of grandsons. I think it’s time to see how the other half lives.”
Amber warmed toward the often sharp-tongued, overly brusque woman. “Thank you, Miss GeorgeAnne.” For not making her feel like such a charity case.
The older woman moved toward the door. “The train for milkshakes is leaving now. Anyone going to hop on board?”
“Me!” Lucy grabbed hold of her sister’s hand. “Stehwaa, too.”
Amber’s heart sank. Stella looked like she’d rather eat live worms. Her babies had made so many sacrifices so she could finish school and get a good job.
Doing her best to ignore Ethan and her zinging pulse, Amber ushered the odd trio to the elevator.
Until Miss ErmaJean offered to take care of Lucy and Stella, she’d struggled to juggle her waitress job, single parenting and nursing school. It was good of Miss GeorgeAnne to babysit the girls, but with ErmaJean out of commission, tonight would have to be her last class.
The twins and