A Father for Her Triplets: Her Pregnancy Surprise Read Online Free PDF Page B

And maybe she should take him a glass of fruit punch and make peace?
    * * *
    When Missy came out to the yard with a pitcher and glasses, Wyatt wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t worked out how he felt about her rebuffing him. Except that he couldn’t take it out on Owen.
    She offered him a glass. “Fruit punch?”
    She smiled tentatively, as if she didn’t know how to behave around him, either.
    He took the glass. “Sure. Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome.” She turned away just as her two little girls came running outside. “Who wants juice?”
    A chorus of “I do” billowed around him. He drank his fruit punch like a man in a desert and put his glass under the pitcher again when she filled the kids’ glasses.
    Their gazes caught.
    “Thirsty?”
    “Very.”
    “Well, I have lots of fruit punch. Drink your fill.”
    But don’t kiss her.
    As she poured punch into his glass, he took a long breath. He was happy. He liked Owen. He even found it amusing to hear the girls chatter about their dolls when they sat under the tree and played house. And he’d spent most of his life wanting a kiss from Missy Johnson and never getting one.
    So, technically, this wasn’t new. This was normal.
    Maybe he was just being a pain in the butt by being upset about it?
    And maybe that was part of what he needed to learn before he returned home? That pushing for things he wanted sometimes made him a jerk.
    Sheesh. He didn’t like the sound of that. But he had to admit that up until he’d lost Betsy, he’d gotten everything he wanted. His talent got him money. His money got him the company that made him the boss. Until Betsy cheated on him, then left him, then sued him, his life had been perfect. Maybe this time with Missy was life balancing the scales as it taught him to gracefully accept failure.
    He didn’t stay for lunch, though she invited him to. Instead, he ate a dried-up cheese sandwich made from cheese in Gram’s freezer and bread he’d gotten at the 7-Eleven the day he’d bought the beer and champagne. When he was finished, he returned to his work of taking everything out of his grandmother’s closet, piling things on the bed. When that was full he shifted to stacking them on the floor beside the bed. With the closet empty, he stared at the stack in awe. How did a person get that much stuff in one closet?
    One by one, he began going through the shoe boxes, which contained everything from old bath salts to old receipts. Around two o’clock, he heard the squeals of the kids’ laughter and decided he’d had enough of being inside. Ten minutes later, he and Owen were a Wiffle ball team against Lainie and Claire.
    Around four, Missy came outside with hot dogs to grill for supper. He started the charcoal for her, but didn’t stay. If he wanted to get back his inner nice guy, to accept that she had a right to rebuff him, he would need some space to get accustomed to it.
    Because that’s what a reasonable guy did. He accepted his limits.
    Once inside his gram’s house, tired and sweaty, he headed for the bathroom to shower. Under the spray, he thought about how much fun Missy’s kids were, then about how much work they were. Then he frowned, thinking about their dad.
    What kind of man left a woman with three kids?
    What kind of man didn’t give a damn if his kids were fed?
    What kind of man expected the woman he’d gotten pregnant to sacrifice everything because she had to be the sole support of his kids?
    A real louse. Missy had married a real louse.
    Was it any wonder she’d warned Wyatt off the night before? She had three kids. Three energetic, hungry, busy kids to raise alone because some dingbat couldn’t handle having triplets.
    If she was smart, she’d never again trust a man.
    A funny feeling slithered through Wyatt.
    They were actually very much alike. She’d never trust a man because one had left her with triplets, and he’d never trust a woman because Betsy’s betrayal had hurt a lot more than he liked