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The Single Dad's Virgin Wife. Susan CrosbyЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Single Dad's Virgin Wife - Susan Crosby


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time,” Ashley said.

      “I understand that. What do you think can be done about it?”

      “We think you should smile more,” she said without smiling.

      “Smile more?” he repeated, confused.

      “Not at us, Father. At Miss Tricia. Miss Jessica was scared of you.”

      Scared? Really? He liked order but was surprised he was feared. “I’ll try,” he said, adding it to his mental list of things to be aware of if he didn’t want to lose Tricia as an employee. “What else?”

      Ashley continued. “We want Miss Tricia to eat dinner with us, not in her room like Miss Jessica and the others.”

      Noah was fascinated with this new, mature daughter of his. “Why?”

      “Because we think if she feels like she’s part of our family, she’ll be happier.”

      “You like her that much?”

      “She seems okay. We just don’t want another change.”

      “Yes, I know you’re tired of it all.”

      Her hands folded in her lap, Ashley sat up a little straighter. “We also don’t think you should argue with Miss Tricia about anything.”

      An improvisation, he decided, trying not to smile. “I can’t guarantee that. We are bound to disagree on some things. And you are my children, not hers. I know what’s best for you.”

      They all looked at each other. Had they always done that or was it something recent? They seemed to be more attuned than before. Each set of twins shared a connection that had always been obvious, but not in combination with the other set. He figured they must be desperate, to face him like this, presenting a united front.

      “Then please be nice and smile at her when you argue,” Zach said, fixing Noah with a stare.

      Laughter rose inside his chest. He couldn’t let it escape or they wouldn’t believe he was taking their concerns seriously. “I’ll be nice.”

      “Thank you.”

      Noah leaned his arms on his thighs and looked at each of them until they each looked back. “Now. Is there something you’d like different for yourselves, not for Miss Tricia?”

      Zoe raised her hand. “I want a swimming pool.”

      “Basketball court,” Adam added.

      Noah did smile then. How easily their focus changed. “Nice try.”

      Zach jumped out of his chair and raced to the window at the sound of a car coming down the driveway. “She’s—Nope. It’s Uncle David.”

      “Alone?”

      “No. Valerie and Hannah, too.”

      Three of the children raced off to greet their uncle, his fiancée and her eight-year-old daughter, Hannah. Ashley lingered, moving more slowly with Noah toward the kitchen.

      “Something else on your mind?” he asked.

      She shrugged.

      “Talk to me,” he said, stopping just outside the kitchen door, his hand on her arm to keep her there, too.

      “Can we watch the videos of Mom again sometime soon?”

      “You know where they are. You’re welcome to watch them anytime.”

      “I mean as a family.”

      He didn’t know if he wanted to bring back all that pain. He’d stopped watching the videos when he realized they hurt more than helped. “Do the others want to watch, too?”

      “Not Zach.”

      Which didn’t surprise Noah. Zach kept the most inside.

      “Okay. We’ll do it tonight.”

      “Not tonight,” she said in a hurry as the kitchen door opened and everyone came in, talking and laughing. “I’ll tell you when, okay?”

      “Sure.” He was grateful for the reprieve.

      Suddenly the kitchen teemed with people, then the kids all took off upstairs with their cousin-to-be Hannah in tow.

      “We brought dinner,” Valerie said, as David set a covered casserole in the oven and a bowl in the refrigerator.

      “I chauffeured. Valerie brought dinner,” David said. “She made everything.”

      “Thanks,” Noah said, surprised. “But why?”

      “To welcome your new nanny,” Valerie said.

      “Teacher,” he corrected, looking over David’s head to try to see what was in the bowl, guessing it was salad. David had lucked out when he’d hired Valerie through At Your Service. She was the calm, competent woman Noah had been looking for, too. He didn’t think that description applied to Tricia. Well, competent, maybe. But calm? Probably not. Lively. That was a better word. “I hope you’re staying for dinner, too,” Noah said.

      David made clucking sounds.

      “What’s that for?” Noah asked. “I’m not a chicken.”

      “You don’t want to make small talk with your help.”

      “So? I’ve never liked to. It’s no different with Tricia.”

      David stood. “She’s just your type.”

      “She’s on the other side of the world from being my type.”

      “Leave him alone,” Valerie said to her fiancé, slipping her hand into his, firing a heat-seeking caution look with her eyes. “Yes, we’ll stay for dinner. That was our goal, although David was supposed to call and alert you. I want to meet Tricia myself. I expect we’ll become friends.”

      “She’s here!” came a shout from upstairs, followed by the rush of footfalls scurrying down the staircase. As a group they ran through the kitchen and out the back door, Hannah grinning as she came last—following just to follow, Noah supposed.

      “That’s quite a reception,” David commented, wandering to the window to watch.

      Noah went to take a look. Ashley and Zach got up close to her. Tricia hugged Ashley, her face alight with pleasure, and said something to Zach that caused him to smile then look down at the ground. Adam and Zoe didn’t allow her close enough to hug. She held out a hand to Hannah, an outgoing, happy girl who was just as caught up in Tricia’s arrival as the rest of them.

      Tricia opened the back of her SUV and started passing things to each child, then they marched toward the house like safari porters, carrying bags, boxes and garments on hangers, with Tricia bringing up the rear with the largest box.

      “Aren’t either of you big, strong men going to help her?” Valerie asked as the back door flew open and the children tramped through.

      Criticized into action, Noah met Tricia at the back door and took the box from her.

      “A welcoming committee. How fun,” she said. “Hi, Noah. I’m glad to see you again, David.”

      “I’m more glad to see you,” he said with a grin. “Tricia McBride, this is my fiancée, Valerie Sinclair.”

      The women shook hands. “Hannah must be yours. She looks just like you. She’s darling.”

      “Thank you, yes, she’s mine.”

      “They brought dinner,” Noah said, balancing the box on the edge of the counter.

      “Oh, how nice of you. And since you’re not running off, would you mind if I excuse myself for a few minutes and go make sure the children haven’t just heaped all my clothes on the floor?”

      David and Valerie encouraged Tricia to go.

      “Be


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