Or she could.

  Either way, she was in, completely.

  “I didn’t factor in the daily horse therapy.”

  What was that?

  His frown seemed more a sign of being perplexed than displeased.

  He had her full attention.

  “They’re city girls,” he said then. “I think it’s good for them to have some reality in their lives so that they don’t just adjust to a vacation-type life.”

  He thought her life a vacation? She worked damned hard...

  It wasn’t about her. And he didn’t look like he had any idea he’d just slammed her.

  Because he hadn’t been talking about her life on the ranch.

  He was reaching out to her, sincerely, for the girls’ sakes.

  Reeling herself in, Mia took a deep breath. Hated that she was so out of character around him. She wasn’t an emotionally overwrought person.

  To the contrary, she’d always been the one to take things in stride.

  Even after he’d left. Once she’d recovered from the initial shock. Figured out how to live with the heartache.

  “At the same time, the change in them, in just four days... I talked to Kelly Chase this afternoon, on my way out of Phoenix, and she seemed almost shocked that the girls are sleeping so well, eating so well and seeing them in the pool today...they were laughing. Engaging.”

  “Like you said, it’s vacation time.”

  With a sideways tilt to his head, he said, “Maybe.” But he didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m thinking...maybe we should take them to the city over the weekend but keep their things here for at least another week.”

  While she tried to breathe through the constriction in her chest, he continued, “I could move some of my stuff here Saturday morning, into the cabin, and then we could all four go to the city and stay in the suites Saturday night. Come back here Sunday night. I’ll keep my suite and use it for work every day. I’ve already got everything set up there. The connections are top speed and uninterrupted...”

  He seemed to be making things up as he went along.

  Or figuring them out.

  And tears filled her eyes. When Jordon was on, he was really, really good.

  She wanted to tell him she didn’t have to go, since it was just the one night and he didn’t need a babysitter since he wouldn’t be working, but she wasn’t that big of a person. Because she wanted to soak up every single second with her daughters that she could.

  And it wasn’t like Jordon was any more permanent in their lives than she was.

  Maybe going back and forth between the two of them would prevent the girls from being too attached.

  Being with Mia predominantly during the day, but with Jordon at night.

  “I’ll pay for my own room.” Her voice, when she was able to use it, came out soft. Almost a whisper. She wanted to thank him.

  Tell him he was doing a great job.

  That she was proud of him.

  But couldn’t.

  They weren’t...anything to each other anymore.

  They were things only to the girls they’d created in another lifetime.

  Their gazes met. He studied her for a long moment. And finally nodded.

  When he stood, she stood.

  And then, with another quick, silent nod, he was gone.

  * * *

  There were bound to be feelings. Jordon told himself it was only logical that residual emotions he’d once felt for Mia would surface as they faced, together, what was, for him, the most intense week of his life.

  He’d guess it was for her, too.

  The swimsuit...hell, even dusty shorts and cowboy boots...were bound to remind him of a day when he’d been welcome to reach out and touch. When he knew he’d be touched in all the ways that he liked best.

  Just as he knew exactly what, where and how to touch Mia to bring her to a pleasure that lit up her eyes and sometimes came out in cries of ecstasy.

  You might move on, but the body, the heart, didn’t forget.

  Remembering...reliving, reexperiencing emotions...was natural.

  And so thinking, as Jordon drove home Thursday night, and awoke Friday morning awash in longing and need far beyond sexual, he put those feelings in the box in which they belonged, and set his mind to focusing on their present circumstances.

  The workday saved him. Took all of his focus and used up a ton of adrenaline. He closed the day up higher than he’d hoped.

  And then, after clearing it with Mia, drove to Shelter Valley early to spend a couple of hours with the girls before dinner so he could make it back to the local investor function to which he’d been invited during online celebrations that morning.

  A gathering that included a couple of clients he’d like to add to his list.

  Mia had said that there was an outdoor movie for the dude ranch kids that evening and she’d wanted to take Ruby and Violet, so everything had worked out perfectly.

  He gained three new clients, instead of two. And went to bed Friday night full of success all around. Brimming with it.

  And lay there thinking about the cow and owl who called good-night to each other every night on the farm. The little dog who ran into everyone’s room at night to wish them sweet dreams. The moon who never forgot to say good-night.

  He hadn’t forgotten, either.

  He just hadn’t been there.

  The pang he felt meant nothing. Just a fallout from the highs he’d been on all day. What came up had to come down. Law of nature.

  Even if he was a true father, had a family of his own, he wouldn’t be home every single night to wish his kids good-night. Sometimes babysitters did that.

  But a true dad would know that he’d have a lifetime of good-nights ahead of him.

  He fell asleep on the thought.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The mistake Mia made regarding Saturday afternoon and night in the city was that she hadn’t figured on how it would work, exactly. One car. The four of them.

  At the Phoenix Children’s Museum. There’d been so much to do, but the girls, of course, wanted to stick together, to explore all of the floors, the activities, together. To play together. Which forced her and Jordon together, too. With other couples talking to them outside of child-size exhibits, assuming they were together. Parents.

  Most particularly with the girls calling out for Mama Mia to watch this or look at that. Jordon seemed to take it all in stride.

  Mia was soaking up every second, opening her heart as wide as it could go, soaking in every nuance.

  Which also released the well of pain and regret stored there.

  While the girls were scientifically hers and Jordon’s, they weren’t Mom and Dad. They weren’t a family.

  But by some cruel twist of fate, she was getting a real-life taste of what could have been.

  What she’d thought was going to be.

  In the Mexican restaurant where the girls wanted to eat quesadillas, she and Jordon sat side by side in a booth because the girls climbed in first, naturally, together.

  The waitress assumed they were a family.

  And for a moment, Mia let herself pretend.

  But only for a moment.

  She knew better than to live in a fantasy. The one she’d unknowingly occupied in the past had almost killed her.

  Or rather, almost killed her ability to find happiness.

  And still, while regret had her fighting back painful tears, her joy was just as profound. She was a mother, out with her children.

  A gift she’d begun to think she’d never experience.

  One she’d almost convinced herself she didn’t really want. Didn’t fit the lifestyle she’d ended up making for herself.

  Except, of course, it did. She’d built a life ready for children to grow up in. One where she could be present, and be working, too.

  Where her children would always have her around, while being exposed to and taught by others, too. Where adventure and lessons in kindness and service, where knowing diverse peoples and their families, would be an everyday part of life.

  And where money worries didn’t exist.

  She tried her best to tune out Jordon, not to ignore him, or to fail to include him, just to keep him away from her heart. And her deepest thoughts.

  He’d caught her eye a couple of times. Shared a smile with her, once. And another time, seemed to be contemplating the state of the world judging by his serious, concerned expression, but she didn’t have time to dwell on either of them.

  It wasn’t like energetic and active four-year-old children left any time for serious adult conversation, so mostly she was successful in her stay away from Jordon quest.

  And maybe she’d imagined the times of connection.

  Like she had the four years they’d been together in the past? She’d been so certain that she and Jordon knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

  When, in truth, they apparently hadn’t known each other at all.

  Not down deep.

  But then, he laughed at something Ruby said and her insides leaped in memory of the sound. And when he was explaining to the twins how motors worked, they could have been back in college and he was helping someone from one of his classes get a concept.

  All in all, the day took everything she had, so that when the girls were finally staying in bed with the lights out in their room—after having begged Mama Mia to stay and tuck them in—she was practically running for the outer door of Jordon’s massive suite.

  “Can you stay for a minute?” Jordon’s voice stopped her. It was odd-sounding.

  Almost...unsure.

  So not Jordon.

  “Sure.” She turned. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to be except inside her own door down the hall. She had her computer, though. Had planned to spend time on her social media platforms. To schedule projects, videos and posts for the next month’s worth of paid crafting endorsements.

  He’d worn a pair of slip-ons with black shorts and a white, far-too-good-fitting polo shirt that day and while the girls and the activities had distracted her from paying too much attention, his broad shoulders, the vivid blue in his eyes...those thighs...they were a little harder to ignore alone in the living space of his suite.

  Leaving her far too aware that there was a dining room with a massive table for twelve and a closed bedroom door separating them from their soon-to-be sleeping chaperones.

  He’d led the way to the seating area, then segued to the wet bar. Poured himself a glass of something amber then offered her a glass of wine.

  In the process of shaking her head, Mia heard her voice say, “Please.” And wasn’t sorry that she’d lost a battle with her better judgment. She wanted the wine.

  Wanted to relax and get some good work done yet that evening. Her crafting hours were going to be limited, still, for at least another week, which meant she had to be organized. Have a solid course of action to make the best of the time she had.

  When he handed her the glass of wine, he held his glass up, as though to toast. And she almost tapped her glass to his. Almost.

  It had been tradition. One of many between them. Anytime they shared anything with alcohol in it they’d always made the same toast. “To us.”

  She couldn’t do it. Sipped. And looked down at her white denim skirt and black sleeveless button-down shirt as though she was only just seeing them for the first time.

  “You haven’t asked about adoption plans.”

  His words drew her gaze instantly, sharply, in his direction.

  “It’s not my right...”

  “Cut the crap, Mia.”

  She stared. Wanted to pretend that she didn’t know why he was upset.

  But she did.

  Jordon had been trying all week to include her in his decision-making. To involve her.

  He’d wanted her input.

  And she’d needed to stay out of it.

  “I can’t be sure that any opinion I give will be solely in the girls’ best interests.” She told him part of the truth. The largest part.

  But there was more.

  She just couldn’t be friends with Jordon Lawrence. No matter how many embryos they’d had turned into children.

  She’d given him everything. Her heart. Her soul. Her body. Her trust.

  No way she could take them back.

  No way he could have any of them again.

  No way she could pretend to just be friends.

  “You don’t think your opinions would be in their best interests? Why is that?” He’d taken a seat on the end of the couch, perpendicular to the chair she’d chosen. Seemed content to sit there all night.

  “No, Jordon.” She shook her head. “You don’t get to pick my brain anymore. Or get into my head.”

  When he nodded, maintaining eye contact, a shock went through her. “I know,” he said. “But you said, in terms of Ruby and Violet, that you’d give your opinion. I asked for it. I gave you the right...”

  He had.

  “Yes, but the court hasn’t yet. And when you adopt them out, any right you gave me will be gone,” she said, giving him total honesty. Because the moment deserved that much. “I can’t pretend again, Jordon. I can’t take on something that isn’t really mine, not in terms of making decisions for the future. I love them. I will always love them. It’s an incredible thing really... I had no idea...”

  She was getting off topic. On the girls, yes, but not on anything he needed to know.

  “It really is,” he said then, a soft glow in his gaze as it caught hers unaware.

  She held on.

  Couldn’t swallow.

  Had to blink to save herself.

  “So...have you found a family to adopt them, then?” He’d started the conversation with the mention of adoption plans.

  She’d been trying to brace herself ever since.

  Would never be ready.

  “No.”

  Her relief palpable, Mia took a sip of wine, trying to act as though she had no skin in the matter either way. The court would give her rights, or it wouldn’t. Adoption shouldn’t change that overly much, her lawyer had explained the day before. Any family considering adoption would be made aware of the motion she’d already filed as it was currently moving through the courts.

  The only wrench in the works would come if the potential adoptive family opposed the motion. They’d have the right to file a response, saying so.

  But they’d have to prove good reason in terms of the twins’ well-being.

  She tried to keep herself contained. To not engage. But had to ask, “Then why get on me for not asking?”

  “Because it’s the most important decision in our daughters’ lives,” he said, opening his mouth as if to say more, but she shook her head.

  Violently. Would have spilled her wine if she hadn’t set it down.

  “The biology of those children belongs to both of us, Jordon, but we didn’t create babies together. We only made embryos. We didn’t birth them. Or raise them. They aren’t our children.”

  Sucking in his lips some, as though holding them closed to prevent words from escaping, Jordon nodded.

  Looked over at her.

  Then said, “I’m thinking about keeping them, Mia.”

  That’s when her entire world imploded.

  * * *

  “You...what...you live in New York, and yeah, the Robinsons knew that and gave them to you, but this whole thing was my idea, and you get to raise them?” Mia’s stricken expression made Jordon glad that words were tumbling out of her.

  Giving him some clue how to help.

  “I’m sorry,” she said then. “That’s not fair to put that on you. You didn’t ask for any of this. It’s just...you’re serious? You’re going to keep them?” She was right back in control. Proving once again that she didn’t need his help.

  His disappointment was far more intense than the situation demanded.

  “I was thinking that I’d have them in New York during the school year, and then they’d come here to spend summers at the ranch,” he said, testing the theory out loud.

  Against his greatest critic.

  Because he couldn’t find a way to put it down on his own.

  And because he fully trusted Mia to put the girls first.

  Mouth open, she was staring at him. “You’d let me have them for the summers? They could grow up being a part of Shelter Valley?”

  The way she said it, like her hometown was some kind of black hole to him, hit hard. Harder than it should have?

  Had he made her feel ashamed of the small town she’d loved more than him?

  And...what was that? The mental question hit him on the tail of his last thought.

  Did he really believe it? Had he ten years ago?

  Mia had loved Shelter Valley more than she’d loved him.

  Had he consciously had the thought when he’d left her?

  Or was it just now surfacing?

  He’d spent so many years blocking it all out, he couldn’t be sure.

  “There’s no way I’d keep them and not share them with you, Mia. You have to know that. Somewhere, deep down...”

  She stared at him and blinked when her eyes grew moist. Then, she shook her head. “No, Jordon. Don’t do that to me. We can talk about the girls, about a future that could include both of us in their lives...but don’t...”

  When her voice broke off, it took all he had not to pull her into his arms. To promise her that everything would be okay and he’d never hurt her again.

  But he couldn’t do it.

  Because he probably would hurt her. Just as she’d hurt him.

  They were too different. Maybe not their personalities, or their life views...but their needs. Shelter Valley, or small-town living at least, brought her peace. And had him climbing the walls. While big cities, the freneticism, kept her on edge. And that was where he thrived.