Mummy in the Making

And yet just the fact that he seemed to have been even a touch gawky at the end made her feel so much better.

It even made it easier for her to think about riding over to her half brother’s place with him the next night.

Which she suddenly found herself looking forward to.

Chapter Three

“Oh. Wine.”

“Not just any wine, Issa, this is from that little vineyard in Napa that you like so much,” Logan said when Issa hesitated to accept his offer of a glass of wine. She, Hutch and Ash had just arrived at the Mackey and McKendrick compound for Monday evening’s barbecue.

It hadn’t occurred to her that not being able to drink because of her pregnancy would raise questions. Ordinarily she would have gratefully accepted the glass of wine and enjoyed it and the relaxing benefits that would have helped her be more comfortable socializing. That was something that her half and whole siblings Logan, Hadley and Dag knew well. Which was likely why Logan had gone out of his way to get her favorite wine. And why it looked all the more suspicious that she was holding back.

But she couldn’t drink. And she also couldn’t think fast enough to come up with a plausible excuse.

Maybe she should say yes to the wine, have one tiny sip for show, then pour the rest of it out by small increments when no one seemed to be looking, and hope she didn’t get caught.

“Oops, she promised to be my designated driver tonight, so I started early and had a beer before we left,” Hutch jumped in suddenly, saving the day.

“I saw your SUV out front, Hutch. You came in that instead of Issa’s car even though she’s driving?” Hadley asked.

Luckily no one had seen them actually pull up or they would have known that Hutch had driven.

“Car seat!” Issa said, her brain finally functioning so she could help things along. “It was more trouble to switch it to my car, so I just said I’d drive Hutch’s. But now that I’m committed, no wine for me. I appreciate that you went to the trouble, though.”

“We’ll open it another time,” Meg interjected, moving things along. “How about iced tea or lemonade? And Hutch, you’re drinking beer?”

“Tall and cold!” Hutch said with vigor, making everyone laugh and drawing the focus off Issa.

To Issa’s relief.

“I can pour my own lemonade,” Issa said, grabbing the pitcher from the kitchen table.

“Then, because we’re all here, we can take everything out back,” Meg suggested.

In the backyard Chase was manning a big barbecue grill. Standing nearby overseeing things were the rest of the guests—Shannon, Dag, Jenna Bowen—whom Issa knew because they’d both grown up in the small town, and another man who had to be Hutch Kincaid’s twin because they looked so much alike that Issa could have picked him out of a crowd.

The barbecue contingent greeted Issa and Hutch as they came out onto the back porch carrying whatever they could manage of beverages and condiments—the last of what was needed to get down to the business of dinner. Logan, Meg and Hadley followed with even more plates of goodies.

“Issa,” Logan said then, “you haven’t met Ian yet, have you? Issa, Ian. Ian, my sister Issa.”

Issa and Ian exchanged nice-to-meet-yous, but Issa refrained from commenting on the twins’ resemblance to each other because she thought they probably heard that too often.

Then to round out the introductions, Jenna said, “And the other one you don’t know is over there—Abby. She’s the baby my sister, J.J., had in high school. My niece—”

“And now her adopted daughter,” Ian contributed.

“And soon to be Ian’s adopted daughter, too, as soon as the paperwork is finished,” Jenna said, smiling a beaming smile at Hutch’s brother.

“I was sorry to hear about J.J., and about your parents,” Issa said. Through her family she’d heard about all the losses that Jenna had suffered during the past year. Even though Issa had visited Northbridge periodically during that time, her visits hadn’t coincided with any of the funerals and she also hadn’t seen Jenna when she was in town, so this was the first opportunity to give condolences. In fact, neither Jenna nor Issa had lived in Northbridge until very recently, and Issa hadn’t seen Jenna since they’d graduated from high school.

Jenna thanked her for her sympathy and Issa cast another, more concentrated glance in the direction of the sandbox. She felt obligated to show an interest in the child Jenna had made a point of telling her about.

Earlier when Issa, Hutch and Ash had arrived, Meg had informed the toddler that the other kids were out back. Ash hadn’t wasted any time running through the place to join them. Now Issa spotted him playing in the sandbox with Issa’s three-year-old niece, Tia; with Shannon, Chase and Hutch’s twenty-month-old nephew, Cody, who Issa had met her first day back in Northbridge; and with a beautiful, curly haired baby girl who had to be Jenna’s niece-turned-adopted daughter.

“How old is Abby?” Issa asked, too unfamiliar with children to have any clue.

“She’s seventeen months,” Ian answered in a proud voice.

“She’s cute…” Issa said, unsure if she should be more gushy, if she should say or do anything else, and how long she should go on looking at the child before she could move on to other things. She was just no good at this stuff.

When Jenna thanked her for the compliment, Issa took that as her sign that admiring the child had gone on long enough and switched her focus back to the adults.

It was about then that the men moved nearer to the barbecue and the women migrated toward the picnic tables not far from there.

At the urging of Hadley, Issa sat beside her half sister on the bench. But as the other women began to chat about Jenna and Ian’s upcoming wedding, Issa’s mind and eyes wandered, and she ended up studying Hutch and Ian.

They stood side by side facing in her direction, watching Chase’s grilling skills, and while she might not have remarked on the fact that the twins were near mirror images, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed it. Now she couldn’t help comparing the two.

They were almost identical. Only a few minor details made it possible to tell them apart.

Ian’s eyes were a pale blue rather than the deeper, richer sky-blue that Hutch shared with Chase.

Both men’s hair was the same length—short on the sides and back, slightly longer on top. But Ian’s hair was just a shade lighter than Hutch’s sandy-colored locks, and looked as if he put more effort into taming it, while Hutch wore the style with just a touch of bad-boy dishevelment.

And there was a difference in dress and comportment, too. There was something more formal and businesslike about Ian, about coming to a barbecue in slacks and a dress shirt.

But Hutch? He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the sleeves pushed to his elbows—definitely in keeping with the laid-back, casual air that invited everyone around him to loosen up, too.

No, there was nothing businesslike about Hutch as he talked and joked and made the other men laugh, and Issa knew almost instantly that if she were choosing between the two men—which, of course, she wasn’t—Hutch would be who she chose.

Relaxed, personable, smooth, fun-loving—that was her impression of him. A guy who was easy to be around. Who other people were drawn to, too. The type of man who was sort of the yin to her yang.

Ah, but that was exactly why she had to be cautious when it came to her landlord, she told herself.

What she lacked in outgoingness, men like Hutch made up for. And in the past that had had its own appeal. Being with a man like that had provided her with a sort of camouflage to hide behind, a gap filler. But not only didn’t that help her to improve upon her own shortcomings, but it also had actually led her to men with shortcomings themselves. Less obvious but far worse shortcomings than being a wallflower.

And she didn’t want to risk the fallout that came from that ever happening again. So no yin and yang. No picking up the slack on anybody’s part. No he-was-strong-where-she-was-weak/she-was-strong-where-he-was-weak stuff. Not for her. Not when the hidden weaknesses of the men she chose proved to be so disastrous.

It was a newly adopted conviction, but a conviction nonetheless, and she was holding tight to it.

Just then Ash got sand in his eyes and began to cry. Issa watched as Hutch crossed to his son with long, powerful strides, scooped up the little boy and commiserated with him while he rubbed his back.

“I know that hurts, big guy, go ahead and cry,” he encouraged.

Issa’s first thought was that commiseration and rubbing the toddler’s back weren’t going to get the sand out of his eyes.

Then she realized that it was the encouragement for the little boy to cry that was the solution—the tears were washing the sand away. And sure enough, within a few minutes the two-and-a-half-year-old was fine again.