She knew that it was.
And perhaps, just perhaps, she wanted to recover the reputation the man had so effectively taken aim at.
His planned birthday party sounded safe—well, safe enough. And she did want to meet the twins.
“I just may take you up on it, Mr. Lawrence. But— it’s certainly not because of your charm.”
The smile her double-edged acceptance put on his lips had a part of her doubting the wisdom of what she’d just done.
The part that could get hurt….
Sabrina glanced again at the suburban address on the tan-colored business card with crisp black lettering that Gabe Lawrence had given her. According to the card, he ran Lawrence Advertising, and his office address was the same as his home. An arrangement that enabled him to stay close to his twin daughters? she wondered.
A few moms enjoyed the luxury of working at home these days—why not fathers?
She had to admire his effort, and the fact that it couldn’t be an easy proposition for him, raising two little girls alone.
Perhaps it was better not to find anything more to admire about the man, she decided, and spent the next few minutes searching for house numbers on the treelined block of modest brick homes. The neighborhood bespoke easy comfort and a warmth that was nurturing. A neighborhood for raising children.
Then she spotted the house number—a small ranch home with a hopscotch game drawn in white chalk on the long driveway. In the yard was a large red maple that had already begun to drop its leaves, a signal that Denver’s warm summer days were fast drawing to an end.
Sabrina turned into the drive, carefully avoiding the hopscotch markings, and came to a halt in front of the double-car garage. The thought that possibly this wasn’t the best ending for the confrontation she’d had with Gabe Lawrence yesterday afternoon assailed her. But just as she considered backing out of the evening, she thought of the twins and realized she very much wanted to meet them. She just wished they didn’t have a father who rattled her senses.
When she turned off the car’s engine she saw the man in question standing at the front door. She sucked in a breath at the sight of him. Gabe Lawrence was every bit as intriguing as he’d been yesterday. And just as daunting.
Those wide shoulders filled the doorway, doorjamb to doorjamb, and she decided it was better to concentrate on her reason for being here: the twins and the party she’d been invited to.
Scooping up two brightly colored birthday packages from the seat beside her, she made her way toward the front porch—and Gabe.
He greeted her with a dangerous smile, one that made her want to reconsider her evening. “Welcome. I thought you might have decided not to come.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have.
Sabrina wondered if it was too late to plead a previous appointment. Across town. “Are you sure I’m not intruding?”
“Of course not Come on in. The party’s out back.”
Sabrina expected as much. She could hear the childish exuberance echoing from just that direction.
She only got a brief glimpse of the house as Gabe led her through on their way to the back patio where the party was in full swing. Sabrina dropped her carefully wrapped gifts for the twins onto a table filled with other gifts, just inside the sliding glass door in Gabe’s party-cluttered kitchen.
She hadn’t bought matching gifts, as most people insisted on buying for twins, but individual ones— ones she hoped each girl would enjoy.
When they reached the back, Gabe waved the two birthday girls over to meet her. He hadn’t mentioned whether the twins were identical or not, but she could see now that they were—right down to their pink, little-girl party dresses and shiny new Mary Janes.
Sabrina wondered if he’d consider rereading the chapter she’d written on that topic in her book.
As she usually did with identicals, she tried to find some distinguishing differences so she could tell them apart, but in this case, she was at a loss. However did Gabe accomplish the feat?
She’d have to remember to ask him.
“Hi, I’m Hannah,” announced one of the blond, curly-haired cherubs.
“And I’m Heather,” announced the other, as if determined not to be outdone in the introductions department
Sabrina hid a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Hannah and Heather. I’m Dr. Moore—but you can call me Sabrina.”
Hannah gave an anxious glance and clung tightly to her father’s pant leg. “A…doctor? Are you gonna give us a shot?” she voiced.
Sabrina smiled. It was something she sometimes heard from her young subjects. “I’m a different kind of doctor, Hannah,” she reassured the little girl. “I don’t give shots.”
“Ever?” her twin queried.
“Ever.”
“Okay—then you can come to our party,” Hannah allowed, as if it had become a point in question.
Sabrina smiled at them both. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
“Tell our guest you’ll talk to her later,” Gabe interjected. “Right now I need Sabrina’s help with the hot dogs.”
The twins bounded off to rejoin their friends, and Sabrina turned to face Gabe. “I, uh, think you got me here under false pretenses. I wasn’t aware I’d have…food duty.”
He smiled. “If you don’t want to help…”
Sabrina glanced around at the children darting and dashing everywhere, whooping with exuberance, and decided food duty might not be so bad after all. She sighed. “I’ll be happy to lend a hand.”
“Great, grab an apron.”
“Who are all these children anyway?” she asked Gabe as she snatched up the only available apron and followed him toward the grill at one end of the patio.
“Just a few neighborhood kids. Why?”
Sabrina glanced around. “No reason.” She wasn’t about to mention that little children made her nervous, at least outside her carefully controlled Play Lab. He’d enjoy the admission too much.
A warm evening breeze blew around the edge of the house, fragrant with the hint of pine that Sabrina always remembered from this time of year. In lieu of an apron, Gabe tucked a kitchen towel into the waistband of his lean-fitting jeans, then popped the lid on the grill.
“You man the buns and the mustard for me,” he said as he deftly turned the weiners he already had cooking. “Think you can handle that?”
She was sure she could, but that hadn’t been her purpose in coming. “I thought you invited me here to observe, not as slave labor,” she said with just the right degree of haughtiness in her voice.
He laughed then, a deep male sound that rumbled over her senses. “I know, and I’m sorry—but I really do need some help. This is the first kid party I’ve ever attempted. Have a heart.”
Kid parties weren’t something Sabrina was all that familiar with, either, though she didn’t want to relate the fact. She preferred encountering children in the clinical setting. There she was in charge. Here she felt…unsettled.
Or maybe it was being around Gabe Lawrence that had her feeling that way. “I’m surprised you didn’t try something a little less…intimidating the first time. Say, one or two friends, a few paper plates, a cake.”
He grinned over his shoulder at her. “What do you mean? The cake was the hardest part. Wait till you see it. Besides, this is the first real birthday I’ve had with the twins. And