Suit (The Twin Duo #1)(18)

Confused, I shifted my gaze to meet with Paxton’s cold stare, then back to the girls. Rowan was just a tad shorter with long, honey-butter hair. Bright, blue eyes and pale skin. Her eyes were the color of the ocean, teal blue with a touch of pearl. They stared up at me with a tinge of insecurity, causing me to suppress a choke. I did belong here. I was consciously aware of a bond, I belonged with them. No matter where it was, I belonged with them. My Clydes.

Wait. What? Clydes?

“Come here,” I whispered with the sweetest voice I could muster. They both scurried to me with instant grins and hugged me, squeezing between my crutches, wrapping their arms around my legs. I was indisputably in love.

“Daddy said you wouldn’t benember who we were. He said the African made you forget,” my little blondie tattled and my heart fluttered. The sweetest angelic sound I had ever heard floated through her lips.

Even Paxton’s laugh was real. Not the fake one I had already became accustomed to.

“Accident. The accident caused her to forget. Not African,” he clarified.

“That’s what I said.”

“I could never forget you. I have a hard time remembering some things though, so you’ll have to help me out, okay?” I asked with fingers gliding through her soft hair.

“And me, too, right, Mommy? You know me, too.”

The impulse to drop to one knee and hug them both disappeared as soon as I thought about it. I would never get up, not without a bottle of strong narcotics, anyway. I lifted her chin with a finger instead.

“Of course I remember you, Phi.”

Ophelia giggled and gave me a wide, toothy grin while the amused expression on Paxton’s face changed. He went from showing his own white teeth, to pissed off, just like that. What the hell, dude?

“We helped daddy cook your favorite supper,” Rowan exclaimed, excited about her involvement in the meal preparation. My heart filled to the brim with love when they each placed their little hands around my wrists and led me to the table. They were more in the way than anything. I could barely maneuver my crutches, but I didn’t tell them that. They took great pride in helping me.

I hobbled along, stopping at the door for them to move in front of me. My eyes locked with Paxton’s and he smiled. A show for the girls, I thought, and then I understood. His expression chilled over like icy fog on a windowpane. As soon as they were ahead of us, he stuck his leg right in front of me. The pain instantly shot up my ribs, knocking the breath right out of me when my body was forced to bend at the waist.

Paxton assisted me with a hand to my back when the look on my face changed, expressing the pain from the sudden jolt. For a quick second I thought maybe I saw remorse in his eyes. His words were in a mocking tone, lips close to mine. “Her name is Ophelia. Remember? She was named after my grandmother. Ophelia Pierce. Ring any bells? The Mayflower? She was a passenger on the Mayflower? Came with a widowed man.”

“Come on, Daddy,” Rowan called.

I peered over his shoulder to get a glimpse of them, my girls. They both stared back at us in anticipation.

“If your grandmother came over here on the Mayflower you would be at least three hundred years old. I highly doubt it was the Mayflower. Although you could be a vampire. That would explain it.”

“This mouth is going to get you in trouble. Brings back old memories, huh?” His lips met mine and his tongue dove in. One moan and a quick kiss and he let me pass him.

“Troll,” I mumbled to myself.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

He was like a troll. A troll who told me when I could cross the bridge, what bridge I was allowed to cross, and for how long. I must have been insane when I agreed to marry this man. Maybe I’d had a brain injury back then, too.

“Look, it’s your favorite, Mom,” Rowan exclaimed, dramatically opening her hand and making a sweeping gesture across the table of food. A salad in the middle and three covered dishes surrounded the main course.

“Hmmm, I love salad,” I said with a smile and a stroke down her long blond hair.

Rowan snorted, showing me her Colgate smile. Not perfect, but white. The tooth that twisted a bit above her upper left lip insured braces. My tongue glided over my own teeth in search of the same trait. Nope. Straight as straight could be.

“That’s not your favorite. It’s under there, silly,” she explained with a point to the third covered dish.

Paxton lifted the lid from the middle pan, wearing his own smile. His was not as sweet as Rowan’s. Ugh. I hated chicken.

Wait. I did?

“My favorite is chicken?” I questioned as Paxton pulled my chair out and took my crutches. I eased my way into the seat, using the edge of the table for support, feeling the pain shoot down my leg.

“Dad cooked it on the grill,” Ophelia offered. I pressed my lips together, trying not to snarl my nose. I didn’t like chicken. That was a damn fact. It appeared Paxton knew that detail, too. Either that, or the man wore a constant smug.

I ate around the chicken, and I nibbled on my salad, rice, and steamed asparagus, listening to the girls tell me stories about their lives during my time away. I’d missed a lot. Rowan had lost her first tooth. Bottom front. She’d scored a touchdown in tee-ball, and she’d skinned her knee. She even showed me the proof. Ophelia had been just as busy. She too had a boo-boo on her elbow. She didn’t get a touchdown because she had fallen, and she insisted she was going to lose her tooth when she turned six, too.