Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(37)

The lobby seemed quiet after the kids moved away, but when I was passing by the restaurant, I heard my name being called.

Squinting, I looked inside. It wasn’t actually lunchtime, so there weren’t many people there. A woman waved me over. After a moment, I realized it was Naomi, the massage therapist.

“Hi.”

She pointed to the empty seat across from her. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

I actually had, but I sat anyway and ordered tea.

“Thanks,” Naomi said when it came.

“For what?”

“For joining me. I hate eating alone.”

“At least they let you out of the suite,” I said. “I’ve heard you’ve been really busy.”

She nodded. “You have a lot of family members with a lot of tension in their muscles.”

“That tracks. I’m actually kind of surprised you remembered my name, since there are so many of us.”

“Oh, I remember you because I’m insanely jealous of your hair.”

I frowned, fingering a strand. “Yours is gorgeous.”

She grimaced. “But no matter what I do, it doesn’t ever get glossy like yours. Plus, at the end of the day, it’s mostly frizz.”

“Mine is too, if it’s really humid out.”

“Which it is, quite often, around here in the summer,” she commiserated. Then her look turned sly. “I also remember you because of that hottie you were with. No offense, but I’m glad I was the one who got to give him his massage.”

I laughed at the thought of that huge blond man, William, kneading Reid’s muscles. “I’m sure he was glad of that, too.”

We talked a bit, but when Naomi was almost finished with her salad, the kids came back. It sounded like twice as many of them were running through the lobby. I thought about going out there to try to get them to stop running and shrieking, but it sounded like they outnumbered me by a lot.

Naomi laughed when I told her that. “Coward,” she said, but in a teasing tone. “But I don’t blame you. I can handle babysitting my two little nephews, but any more than that, and I run for the hills.”

There was a burst of laughter behind me, and I didn’t even turn my head. If I made eye contact, they might come in here. “Wow, they’re loud.”

“They are,” Naomi said, looking past me to the entrance of the restaurant. “Especially the big one.”

“The big one?” I twisted in my chair, expecting to perhaps see some preteens from Matthew’s side of the family. Instead, I saw Jackson tossing a ball to a group of clamoring children. I wasn’t expecting him for at least another half hour. “When did he get here?”

“A few minutes ago. He’s good with them,” Naomi said.

We watched in silence for a few minutes, and I saw she was right. Jackson seemed to be the ringleader of whatever game they were playing out there. All I knew was that it involved a lot of running and shrieking. Plus, the ball that was being tossed around. I didn’t know where that came from.

The ball bounced past Jenny, and she whirled around to get it. However, her foot slid out from under her, and she fell flat on the tile floor.

I half rose out of my seat to go comfort her, but Jackson already was. He picked her up and then crouched down to speak with her. I didn’t know what he said, but she nodded and wiped her eyes. And when he handed her Bun-Bun, she actually smiled.

“That’s adorable,” Naomi said. “And it kind of makes your ovaries melt, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. I’d never thought about if any of the triplets wanted kids, but Jackson, at least, was awesome with them. Maybe that was why he was so interested in my idea for making the loft into the perfect kid’s room.

“Do you want kids?” Naomi asked. It was a very personal question, but somehow it seemed normal in this setting as we both watched Jackson and the kids resume their playing.

“Absolutely. What about you?”

“Someday. Not now.”

Unlike Naomi, I wanted children as soon as possible, but it didn’t seem very likely. I didn’t have a job, or a reliable car. Hell, I wasn’t even dating anyone—not for real. So having kids seemed like a long way off. I sighed. “I’d better go rescue Reid before he’s the one who falls down and gets hurt.”

Naomi laughed. “I think he’ll be okay—especially if you kiss it and make it better.”

I stood up. “It was nice talking to you.”

“You, too.”



The kids were disappointed when I pulled their friend away. They were already referring to him as Uncle Reid.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here for another half hour?” I said when we’d escaped the tiny mob and were heading toward my hotel room.

“I came early,” he said. “Some idiot got the wrong kind of hinges, so I stopped at the hardware store first.”

“Was the idiot one of your brothers?”

He grinned. “Probably.”

There was a door—a heavy one—that marked the start of the rooms and suites. I stopped just in front of it, and Jackson looked over with an eyebrow raised.

“Is there a problem?”

I smiled. “I thought you said that Reid always opens doors for women?”