Twins Under His Tree Part 13

She didn't know how to answer him, but gave him the response that would be easiest. "Yes, I'm good."

He kissed her cheek then rolled onto his side, taking her with him, their bodies still joined. "Do you want me to check on Sophie and Grace?"

"In a minute." She was still catching her breath, still trying to absorb what they had done, what she had done.

"Talk to me, Lily."

"Just hold me, Mitch. Just hold me."

"I shouldn't fall asleep with you. I could have a nightmare."

"It doesn't matter, I don't want you to leave."

So Mitch stayed and she held on, unsure what morning would bring.

Lily snuck glances at Mitch as they made breakfast the next morning. The night before, the first time the twins had awakened, Mitch had climbed out of bed quickly. Lily wondered if he'd slept at all because he'd seemed so wide awake as they fed Sophie and Grace and settled them once more. Afterward, Mitch had kissed her and she thought they might make love again. Instead he'd said, "Get some sleep. I'm going to bunk on the couch. When the electricity clicks back on, I'll make sure everything's working okay."

"Mitch, you could sleep with me."

But he'd shaken his head and she'd known better than to argue.

The twins had slept later than usual this morning, so it was almost ten o'clock as she scrambled eggs and Mitch fried bacon. Sophie and Grace faced each other and babbled in their swings.

She hadn't talked to Mitch about last night. They'd been too busy changing, dressing, diapering and now making breakfast. What she wanted to ask most was, What did last night mean to you?

However, as she was about to begin the discussion, the front door swung open and Angie and Ellie charged in, overnight cases in hand. They gave some attention to the babies and then stopped short when they saw Mitch.

Cheerfully, Angie tried to set the tone. "Good morning."

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Lily remarked. "How was the concert?"

"It was wonderful," Angie replied. "I felt like a teenager again. Brad Paisley is one hot dude."

Lily forced a laugh because Ellie was being so quiet.

Angie slipped a CD from her purse. "I got his new one."

"Did you have a good time?" she asked Ellie. Mitch silently listened, forking the slices of bacon.

"Yeah, it was great. But we heard you had storms last night and a lot of the electricity was out. We were worried. That's why we got up early and drove back. I tried to call but the phone must not be working. It just kept ringing and you didn't answer your cell, either."

"Oh, I'm sorry you worried," Lily apologized. "My cell was out of power when the electricity went down and I unplugged the charger so it wouldn't get damaged if there was a surge." She felt as if she were overexplaining and Ellie was eyeing her and then Mitch. Lily felt uncomfortable.

"Did you have any trouble getting back?" Mitch asked. "Trees down? That kind of thing?"

"Just a tree down on Alamo," Angie answered when Ellie didn't. "Branches here and there. We heard a tornado went through Odessa. That's why we were worried. How did Sophie and Grace do with the storm?"

"They didn't seem to mind," Mitch said with a smile.

"How long have you been here?" Ellie inquired.

Mitch looked to Lily, obviously deciding to let her answer. She felt suddenly unsettled, as if what had happened with Mitch last night was definitely all wrong. She was the mother of three-month-old twins. What was she doing having an affair? What was she doing making love with a man when Troy hadn't been gone a year? What was she doing trying to find a life when her old one still seemed so real?

Suddenly plagued by doubts, she answered, "Mitch came over last evening to visit. While he was here, the electricity went off. He stayed to make sure we were all safe. He slept on the couch and when the power came back on, he made sure everything was working right again."

She sensed Mitch's body tense. With a sideways glance at him, she saw his jaw set and his mouth tighten. She didn't dare look into his eyes.

"I see," Ellie responded.

Silence shrouded the kitchen until Angie broke it. "We bought donuts at the convenience store. I left them in the car with the souvenirs. I'll go get them."

"I can throw more eggs into the pan," Lily offered. "We have plenty of bacon and toast."

Mitch switched off the burner, fished the bacon from the pan and let it drain on a paper towel on a dish. But then he said, "I think I'll be going. Everything's back to normal here and the three of you can catch up."

Lily reached out a hand to him. "Mitch, you don't have to go."

His gaze locked to hers. "Yes, I think I do."

Lily felt her heart drop to her stomach. The look on Mitch's face told her that her explanation to Ellie hadn't been what he'd expected her to say. She slid the eggs from the pan onto a serving dish and set it on the table.

"I'll be right back," she told Ellie. "I'm going to walk Mitch out."

Mitch stopped by Sophie and Grace, jiggled their feet, gave them a last long look, then went to the living room. Making sure the timer on the swings would keep the babies content for a little while longer, Lily bent down and kissed them both. She pa.s.sed Angie in the living room and saw that Mitch had already gone out the door.

"What's up?" Angie whispered to her.

"We'll talk later," she told her friend, not knowing what to expect when she went outside.

Lily had never seen Mitch angry. A sense of calm always seemed to surround him. But now, even though he was still, he wasn't calm. His brown eyes simmered with an emotion she didn't understand. She thought he was accusing her of something and she went on the defensive.

"You could stay for breakfast."

"If I stayed and Ellie asked what happened last night, what should I tell her?"

Maybe the emotion she was witnessing in Mitch's eyes wasn't anger. It was something worse. It was betrayal.

Her hands suddenly felt clammy. "I couldn't tell her what happened."

"I understand you want to keep your life private. I understand you're afraid you'll hurt her feelings. I understand that you feel she'd be upset if she thinks you're moving on. What I don't understand, especially after last night, is that you gave her the impression I was like a security guard seeing to your safety. Why are you afraid to admit to yourself what happened last night. We were intimate, Lily, as intimate as two people can be. Do you want to erase that from your memory?"

The breeze tossed her hair across her cheek as she self-consciously looked around to make sure no one was walking anywhere nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she needed to be certain neither Angie nor Ellie were in the foyer, listening.

"I don't know what to think about last night," she admitted. "I'm not like that, Mitch. I don't seek pleasure to wipe out-"

"Loss and grief and memories?"

"Why are you so angry?"

He ran his hand over his face and considered her words carefully. "I don't think I'm as angry with you as I am with myself. I should have known better. I should have known you weren't ready."

She remembered him asking her last night, "Are you ready?" He'd meant so much more than the physical. Deep down, she'd known that.

"The dark made it easy," he decided. "The dark let you think, subconsciously at least, that you were with your husband again."

She wanted to protest. She wanted to scream that he was wrong. Yet how could she? She didn't know if he was wrong or right. She didn't know if last night had been about her and Mitch, or if it had been about her needing a man to hold her. She felt awful. She felt as if she had betrayed him.

"I'm going to leave before I say something else I shouldn't," he muttered. "It's probably better if we don't see each other for a while."

For a while? How long was that? She'd be going back to work in November. He didn't mean that long, did he? But she had her pride and he had his. She'd hurt him badly and now she had to suffer the consequences.

He took his car keys from his pocket. "Take care of yourself, Lily."

Moments later, he was driving down the street away from her.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she tried not to think or feel and went inside to Grace and Sophie.

Chapter Nine.

Late November Lily sat across from Mitch in his office, hardly able to bear the awkwardness that had developed between them.

She'd been back at work for two weeks and had only caught glimpses of Mitch. He had definitely made himself scarce. The only reason they were in the same room together now was because they had to discuss a patient. "Joan Higgins has high levels of FSH, which definitely lowers the quality of her eggs. I think further testing is indicated."

Mitch nodded, keeping his gaze on the notes on his desk.

After he'd left the Victorian that morning in June, he'd emailed Lily every few weeks to inquire about her health and her daughters'. Emailed. He was doing his duty and keeping his promise to Troy without truly getting involved.

Could she blame him?

Lily desperately wanted to blurt out to Mitch, "I miss you," yet she knew she couldn't. She'd hurt him greatly by making love with him while she grieved for her husband. But he'd hurt her by walking away as he had. If he could leave her life so easily, what had that night meant to him? What if they'd continued the affair? Would he eventually have opened up to her? Would he have been ready to care for her and the twins out of more than duty?

"I'll order further tests," he agreed, ending their discussion of the patient.

They sat in awkward silence.

Finally Mitch laid down his pen. "How does it feel to be back at work?" His expression was neutral and he could have been making polite conversation with any of their colleagues.

"It feels good to be back. But I miss Sophie and Grace," she added honestly, as if he were still the old Mitch. "I miss not being able to hold them whenever I want. I mostly miss not hearing every new baby word first."

"You could come in part time," he suggested, as an employer might.

"I might be able to do that for a month or so, but I need my salary. I can't just think about the moment, I have to think about the future."

When their gazes collided, they were both thinking about taking pleasure in the moment, and the night neither of them would forget. At least, Lily hoped Mitch wouldn't forget it. She knew she never would.

Mitch pushed the papers on his desk into a stack, clipped them together and tossed them into his in-box. "It's getting late. I won't keep you any longer. I know you want to get home."

"Sophie and Grace are really growing and changing."

He looked surprised she'd started up the conversation again.

Reaching into her lab coat pocket, she drew out a small picture portfolio. "These are the latest pictures...if you'd like to see them. I can't believe they're already nine months old."

Maybe she was making it difficult for him to refuse to look, but right now she needed to see emotion from him, something more than a polite facade meant just for her. She'd ached for him all these months, but she hadn't been able to do more than answer his emails in the same tone he'd sent them-politely and with pertinent information. Yet seeing him and working with him again, she realized how much she'd lost when he'd walked away.

As she slid the little booklet across the desk to him, she confessed, "I need to keep their faces close by."

He stared at the small alb.u.m for a couple of seconds and then picked it up. After he leafed through it, he stood and handed it back to her. "They're beautiful kids, Lily. I imagine in a few weeks, you'll have their picture taken with Santa Claus."

Yes, the holidays were coming and she found she didn't want to celebrate them without Mitch. Did he feel anything when he looked at Sophie and Grace's photos? Did he wonder if the monitor was still working? If the sun rose and set now without her feeling grief twenty-four hours a day? What could she say to him to bring warmth back into his eyes?

She returned the photos to her pocket and rose to her feet. Obviously, he wanted her to leave. She could feel the figurative miles he was trying to shove between them. She'd let him do that for the past five months because she hadn't known what else to do, what was fair, what was necessary. But she couldn't merely leave things like this, emotions all tangled up, words gone unsaid, desires left unfulfilled.

"Mitch, what can I do to fix this?"

He didn't pretend to not know what she was talking about. "I don't think there's anything to fix."

It had taken courage on her part to bring it up, but he had shot her down without a glimmer of understanding...without a glimmer of hope that they could reestablish the connection they once had. She felt foolish and embarra.s.sed. She should just go home to the people who loved her and wipe from her memories everything that had happened with Mitch.

She'd almost reached the door when she felt his hand on her shoulder. That simple touch brought back everything-the long, wet kisses, his hands on her body, the o.r.g.a.s.m that had swept her to another realm. She hoped the naked feelings weren't showing in her eyes.

"I don't know how to fix it," he admitted. "We crossed the line and we can't go back."

The five months that had pa.s.sed had seemed like a lifetime. If she told him she was ready now, would it be the truth? Would he believe her?

"We could start over," she suggested.

"As what? Colleagues who once had s.e.x and now are trying to renew a friends.h.i.+p?"

His words. .h.i.t her solar plexus squarely, just where he'd intended. Yet she couldn't give up. "Maybe," she answered truthfully. "We can't deny what happened, but I hate this...wall between us. You were there when Grace and Sophie were born, and now you've just dropped out of their lives."

"I thought the emails-"

"Mitch, you sent them from a sense of duty, because you made a promise to Troy. I didn't know if you really cared. I didn't know whether to email you pictures or describe how I rolled their strollers through the sprinkler and they loved it, or how their hair was finally long enough to put little bows in."

He dropped his hand from her shoulder as if he could see the pictures, too, the pictures of them as they'd been, not just the twins. "I walked away because it was the right thing to do."

"For me or for you?"

"For both of us."

He didn't look or sound as if he had any regrets. That hurt-a lot. She shook her head and accepted what seemed to be inevitable. "If you want to just be colleagues, that's fine. We'll figure out eventually how to relate on that level."