The SEAL's Secret Heirs(42)

“Sure. I’d be glad to help.”

It sounded great, actually. The children she helped always either had families already, or were waiting on her to find them the best one. Grace never got to keep any of the children on whose behalf she worked, which was a little heartbreaking in a way.

But here she was, right in the middle of Maddie and Maggie’s permanent home, spending time with them and their father outside of work. The smell of baby powder clung to her hands where she’d picked up Maggie, and all at once, soft jazz music floated through the kitchen as Kyle clicked up an internet radio station at the kitchen’s entertainment center. It was a bit magical and her throat tightened.

This was not her life. She didn’t trust Kyle enough to consider where this could lead. But all at once, she couldn’t remember why that was so important. All she had to do right this minute was enjoy this.

“Can I do something to help with dinner?” she asked, since the babies were occupied with staring at their fists.

Kyle grinned and pulled a stool from behind the island, pointing to it. “Sit. Your job is to keep me company.”

Charmed, she watched as instructed. It wasn’t a hardship. He moved fluidly, as comfortable sliding a bottle from the built-in wine refrigerator as he was handling the reins of his mount earlier that day.

The cork gave way with a pop and he poured her a glass of pale yellow wine, handing it to her with one finger in the universal “one minute” gesture. He grabbed his own glass and clinked it against hers. “To bygones.”

She raised a brow. That was an interesting thing to toast to. But appropriate. She was determined not to let the past interfere with her family moment, and the future was too murky. “To bygones.”

They both drank from their glasses, staring at each other over the rims, and she had the distinct impression he was evaluating her just as much as she was him.

The fruity tang of the wine raced across her tongue, cool and delicious. And unexpected. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Chardonnay kind of guy,” she commented.

“I’m full of surprises.” With that cryptic comment, he set his wineglass on the counter and began pulling items from the double-doored stainless steel refrigerator. “I’m making something simple. Chicken salad. I hope that’s okay. The ladies didn’t give me a lot of time to prep.”

She hid a smile at his description of the babies. “Sounds great.”

Kyle bustled around the kitchen chopping lettuce and a cooked chicken breast, leaving her to alternate watching him and the twins. Though he drew her eye far more than she would have expected, given that she was here to help with the babies.

“I don’t remember you being much of a connoisseur in the kitchen,” she said as he began mixing the ingredients for homemade dressing.

They’d been so young the first time, though. Not even out of their teens, yet their twenties were practically in the rearview mirror now. Of course they’d grown and changed. It would be more shocking if they hadn’t.

“In a place like Afghanistan, if you don’t learn to cook, you starve,” he returned.

It was rare for him to mention his military stint, and it occurred to her that she typically shied away from the subject because it held so many negative associations. For her, at least. He might feel differently about the thing that had taken him away from her, and she was suddenly curious about it.

“Did you enjoy being in the military?”

He glanced up, his expression shuttered all at once. “It was a part of me. And now it’s not.”

Okay, message received. He didn’t want to talk about that. Which was fine. Neither did she.

“I’m at a stopping point,” he said, his tone a little lighter. “Let’s put the girls to bed.”

Though she suspected it was merely a diversion, she nodded and followed him through the mysterious ritual of bedtime. It was over before she’d fully immersed herself in the moment. They changed the girls’ diapers, changed their outfits, put them down on their backs and left the room.

“That was it?” she whispered as she and Kyle took the back stairs to the kitchen.

“Yep. Sometimes Hadley rocks them if they don’t go to sleep right away, but she says not to do that too much, or they’ll get used to it, and we’ll be doing it until they go to college.” He waved the mobile video monitor in his hand. “I watch and listen using this and if they fuss, I come running. Not much more to it.”

They emerged into the kitchen, where the tangy scent of the salad dressing greeted them. Kyle set the monitor on the counter on his way to the area where he’d been preparing dinner.