The Real Father (Twins) (Harlequin Superromance No. 927) by Kathleen O`Brien

couldn’t even get all my makeup in these puny little bags, much less my clothes.” Straddling the arm of the sofa, she leaned back and gave Molly an appraising once-over. “But I guess the good-girl look doesn’t call for all that much makeup, does it?”
    Molly laughed. It was impossible to take offense at Annie’s candor, especially after she’d offered to help unload the car and lug the suitcases upstairs to the small guest quarters.
    â€œNot really. And the gardener look doesn’t callfor that many clothes, either. I’ve got six pairs of jeans, all with torn, dirt-black knees, and a couple of mud-colored T-shirts.” She surveyed the luggage ruefully. “Most of these are full of Liza’s toys and video games.”
    Annie leveraged her legs over the sofa’s arm, no mean feat considering there wasn’t a spare millimeter of fabric in her electric-blue pants, and slid down the padded upholstery to a comfortably reclined position, kicking her shoes off as she went.
    â€œNo kidding? Tommy plays video games, too. All the time.” She grimaced, wriggling to get the pillows just right. “When he’s not out breaking other kids’ noses, that is.”
    Molly couldn’t help noticing how instinctively Annie made herself at home here. Was that just Annie’s style—or had she spent time in this little secluded suite of rooms before?
    Molly had been here before herself—years ago, with Beau. They had wrangled on that very sofa, Beau pressing and Molly retreating, until finally they had ended the dance the same way they so often ended it, with Molly crying as a coldly disgusted Beau drove her home.
    As she thought back on it all now, Molly realized how sadly clichéd it had been. The more sophisticated boy growing bored with his too timid younger girlfriend, making demands and issuing threats. The girl weakening, fearful of losing the love of her life…
    But at the time it hadn’t seemed like a cliché. It had been confusing and terribly painful. Molly hadbegged for understanding, for patience. But she had been so afraid. If one night he made good his threat, if he left her, if he found another girl… How could she live without Beau?
    Ironic, wasn’t it? She had ended up having to live without him anyhow.
    She wondered what it had been like for Annie and Jackson—if her suspicions were correct and the other couple had sneaked up here, too. Very different, she suspected. She imagined sexy whispers and muffled laughter, beer bottles knocking together as boots and underclothes rained across the floor.
    Not that it was any of her business.
    â€œMom!” Liza appeared suddenly in the doorway, clutching a copy of The Wizard of Oz and a lovely doll dressed in a pink satin princess gown. “These were in the little bedroom. There’s a teddy bear, too. Do you think it’s all right if I play with them?’
    Molly smiled at her daughter’s eager face. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll bet Aunt Lavinia left them for you. You’ll meet her tomorrow—you’ll like her a lot.”
    Liza nodded, obviously hardly hearing anything beyond the “yes.” She turned back toward the bedroom, already murmuring to her new pretend playmate, stroking the doll’s long, silky blond curls and straightening her tiny rhinestone tiara.
    â€œAunt Lavinia, huh?” Annie sounded amused.
    â€œThat’s mighty cozy. I guess that means the Forrests considered you practically one of the family?”
    One of the family. Molly tried not to think about how desperately she had once longed for that to betrue. Those hopes had died ten years ago, as if they had been riding in that little car with Beau. She felt a tingle of discomfort burn along her cheekbones as she remembered how Beau’s mother had shunned her at the funeral. How the older woman had turned her away from Jackson’s hospital room. He