Page 14

EVERETT

I ’ve spent more than a handful of Valentine’s Days with Lemon. But this one coming up feels different.

The twins will be here in a month—or sooner—and I want to make the time we have left before they arrive extra special. And since Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, I thought I’d start there.

I finish up at the courthouse, jump into my truck, and start down the highway with Lemon still in the forefront of my mind. But I’m not five minutes in before an accident up ahead creates a detour for the rest of us. The traffic is sluggish so I make a left and cut through Leeds.

I shake my head as I drive through the dirty, dicey town. This is definitely not where I’ll be taking Lemon any time soon. Although Lemon and I seem to end up here more than I care to admit. Mostly it has to do with Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club, which is also the central hub for Jimmy Canelli and his boys. Jimmy is one of Vermont’s own infamous mobsters. Not to mention the fact Lemon’s sister works there—as a choreographer, not a stripper.

I nod as the establishment appears up ahead. The neon lights above the run-down brick building add all the glitz and glamour this place promises.

Traffic slows me down and I sigh at the old building. I’m about to shift my gaze across the street when something catches my eye. More like someone. A tall, lanky guy with dark hair and his coat pulled up to his ear struts toward the building. And try as he might to look inconspicuous, I know exactly who he is.

“Jed.” I can’t believe my eyes. First, I catch him goosing some woman at the Evergreen, and now he’s ducking into Red Satin as if it’s just another night. And I’m afraid this outing just might be that routine to him.

I’m not in the least bit surprised. Some people don’t change, and they certainly don’t change their spots.

He heads inside, and I head home.

By the time I pull up to the house, I spot a few extra cars outside. I know for a fact one of them belongs to Evie. And that fact alone has the power to turn my night around.

Evie and Lyla Nell aren’t the only children I have. A couple of months ago, I found out that I’m the father of twelve-year-old twins, Ava and Olivia.

Lemon, Lyla Nell, Evie, and I have been taking them to dinner at least once a week. Lemon and I decided it would be healthier for everyone involved if we saw each other as much as possible. And since they live out in Fallbrook, my old stomping grounds, that’s been easy enough to do.

I park and make my way to the porch, and the first thing that greets me is how blissfully quiet it is in Honey Hollow tonight, though quiet might be too generous of a word once I step inside.

“Knock, knock,” I say as I open the door. It’s warm, and bright, and the TV is on a touch too loud.

Noah’s golden retriever Toby runs over to greet me and I step in to see a sight that might just be worthy of Red Satin itself.

“Geez.” I turn my head abruptly.

“ Dad’s home ,” Evie shouts with a lap full of white fur as she cuddles with both Pancake and Waffles at the very same time.

Pancake and Waffles are a couple of Himalayan cats that are just as much our children as Lyla Nell and Evie.

Lyla Nell lifts a hand, but she can’t be bothered to look up.

Lemon sits in the middle of the sofa, with Sam to her left and Carlotta to her right, and all three of them seem to have lost their shirts.

Actually, I take that back. All three are experiencing some level of undress, but regardless of the fact, all three have both breasts exposed. And then there are the children.

Lyla Nell is happily nursing on Lemon while Sam is holding little Willow Grace, her newborn who is red-faced and wailing away, while Sam is trying to force her to latch on.

I’ve learned all the breastfeeding lingo from Lemon.

“I’m sorry, Everett.” Lemon winces my way. “But Sam is having trouble feeding Willow and I needed to demonstrate.”

Evie nods from across the way with her phone pointed at the trio and I hope she’s not snapping pictures of this.

“Mom is like so much better at teaching Sam than Carlotta was.”

“What?” I growl as I look over at my mother-in-law. “Carlotta?” I’d look away, but frankly, Carlotta makes sure she exposes herself to me at least once a week. And after tonight, I think I’ve met my quota for the next ten years.

“Don’t you Carlotta me,” she snaps. “That baby was hungry and I needed to demonstrate to Sam what goes where.”

“She really did try to help, Essex,” Sam says, sounding as if she can’t keep her eyes open for another minute.

I catch Lemon giving her the side-eye. Lemon isn’t too thrilled with the fact Sam prefers to use my formal name and what that signifies. Heck, I’m not too thrilled with it now either. But I can’t turn back time. I definitely had no idea she was Noah’s twin at the time.

And in light of all that, it drives me to be the best husband I can be.

“Well, I’m glad Lemon is here to offer all the help you need.”

I glance over at Noah who’s seated in a lounger a few feet in front of the peep show and he seems to be keeping his eyes glued to the screen. Not that he’d want an eyeful of his sister or Carlotta, but if it were just Lemon, you can bet he’d be sitting right there next to her. It happens almost every night.

“Here, Sam, give her to me,” Lemon says, taking the angry newborn whose voice pierces through the air like a chainsaw. “I’ll show you how to position her on mine.” She pulls the tiny baby bundle with a shock of dark hair close to the side that’s currently unoccupied and the baby wiggles her face back and forth, screaming away until all of a sudden she’s so quiet it’s as if every last one of us stopped breathing.

“Oh no,” Lemon says, trying to pluck the baby off of her, but instead her nipple stretches like taffy. “I’m so sorry, Sam. It seems the baby has latched on and she won’t let go.”

“It’s happened before,” Carlotta pipes up.

“With Levi,” Noah says with a nod.

“It’s not Lot’s fault she’s got sweet milk,” Carlotta says a touch too loud.

Carlotta comes to Lemon’s defense at the strangest of times.

“It’s fine.” Sam tosses up her hands. Her hair is mussed and she’s got dark circles under each eye. She’s wearing a robe over sweats, and her feet are pressed into pink fuzzy slippers. “I give up. I’d pay you to nurse my baby, Lottie, but my bills are starting to pile up and my rent is due again. It turns out, that whole paying my bills thing is cyclical.”

“What about Jed?” Noah asks without so much as turning his head.

“Jed who?” Sam says with exhaustion written across her face. “I hardly see him anymore. He’s off looking for work before dawn, home after dark, and in between, all the baby does is cry. I haven’t slept in weeks.” She shoots me a look as if I might magically have a solution for her, but it’s Noah, sitting unfazed on the couch with his eyes locked on a basketball game, who clears his throat with a grumble.

“I can’t say I’m too impressed with Jed’s disappearing act.” Noah doesn’t look away from the screen, though his tone suggests he’s not exactly focused on the game either. “But I have to give it to him. He’s out there pounding the pavement. That lets me know he wants to provide the best life for you and his child.”

I purse my lips as that scene from last night runs through my mind—the one with Jed and the blonde, then again the one from tonight as he ducked into Red Satin.

The only thing on Jed’s mind is having a good time—and not with the woman he’s engaged to.

“I’m glad you’re impressed, Noah,” Sam says with a sigh. “Although impressing me doesn’t seem to be Jed’s specialty these days.”

“I’ll have a talk with him,” I offer. Because if Noah catches wind of Jed’s extracurricular activities, he’ll put a bullet in him.

“Ooh, maybe mention that Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Lemon says. “And that it just so happens to be his wedding on the very same day.” She nods my way. “Maybe suggest he do something special for Sam beforehand. I think men forget that women still want a little romance in their lives after the baby is born.”

“I don’t want any of that,” Sam is quick to say with her eyes closed and her head leaning up against the back of the couch. “No, thank you. That man has done enough.”

Carlotta belts out a laugh. “That’s my Lot Lot, always hot to trot.”

“Speaking of hot to trot,” Evie says. “Mom, have you thought of anything I can do for Conner on Valentine’s Day?” She looks my way. “We’re celebrating the night of the wedding once we leave the B&B so we don’t lose out on some romantic time of our own. No offense, Sam. I’m sure your reception will be plenty romantic.”

“No offense taken,” she says, tossing up a hand and letting it flop back down on her chest. “I’m starting to think a wedding sounds like the least romantic thing in the world right about now. You know what sounds romantic? A hot bubble bath followed by a nice, long nap—all by my lonesome.”

“You hear that?” I nod to Evie as I put down my briefcase and take off my coat. “You take your bubble baths and your naps alone.”

“Oh, Dad.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Mom, give me some romantic ideas.”

“Can’t you see she’s got her boobs full at the moment?” Carlotta leans in. “But you’re in luck. Spicy escapades just so happen to be my specialty.”

“Like what?” Evie nods, eager to hear anything Carlotta has to offer.

“Like nothing.” I shoot Carlotta a warning look.

“Oh, don’t lose your britches, Sexy.” Carlotta rolls her eyes at me. “I’m talking walks at sunset, a hot tub under the stars, or better yet, an indoor picnic on the bed.”

“And she’s heard enough,” Noah calls out.

“Don’t you go turning on me, too, Foxy. You know darn well there would be no Little Yippy if you didn’t implement a few of my ideas.”

“That’s right.” Noah nods. “And that’s exactly why Evie shouldn’t implement any of your ideas.”

“Speaking of ideas... scoot in close,” Lemon tells Sam. “I think I know a way to make this work.”

Sam leans in, albeit groggily, and Lemon butts her chest next to Sam’s as close as she can get from the side. Lemon weans the baby from her breast and quickly lands her on top of Sam and soon the baby latches onto her own mother and continues on her merry way seamlessly.

“It’s working!” Sam calls out. “Finally. Maybe we can actually figure this thing out. It’s been so hit-or-miss, I was half-afraid she’d starve.”

“Bring her by anytime,” Lemon offers.

“Speaking of time.” Carlotta checks her watch. “My new friend Shelly said to meet her tomorrow at eleven at the Stupid Cupid shop that Venus Fly Trap owns so I can start my new gobbling gig as a food freeloader.”

“New friend?” I raise a brow.

Traditionally, Carlotta’s friends are a bag full of trouble. The food freeloader part is expected on some level.

Lemon lifts her head my way. “Shelly Everly. Carlotta met her at the Evergreen Manor. She’s a food critic . And for reasons unknown to humans on Earth, she said Carlotta could go along for the ride if she wanted.”

“A job for Carlotta? How about some dinner to celebrate?” I suggest and the room breaks out in cheers, with Noah’s being the loudest. “It’s on me and I’ll call the Wicked Wok right now.”

Someone’s phone buzzes and Sam grunts. “ Aww , it’s a text from Jed. He’s running late because he stopped by the hospital to apply for work and stumbled upon a baby care class. He said he’ll show me all the tips and tricks he’s learned once he gets home.” She drops her phone to the couch. “Too bad I’ll be too exhausted to hear it.”

I have a feeling Jed is banking on just that.

Little does Sam know that Jed is down at Red Satin, most likely getting far too handsy with the strippers.

I’d share it with Noah, but he’d send Jed to the morgue by morning.

Though, frankly, a bullet might be the only thing that can fix this.