“Play with me. It’ll be fun.”
Taking Josie’s hands, he placed them around his neck. His hands low on her hips, he swayed her in time to the music.
“Dallas…”
“You look awfully cute in that robe.” He especially liked her messy pile of crazy-corkscrew hair. How the deep V at her throat guided his eyes to naughty places.
“I’m thirty-three. Hardly in the right age bracket for cute.”
“Says who?” Cinching her close enough that even air couldn’t squeeze between them, he nuzzled her neck.
She made a halfhearted effort to push him away, but then he slipped his hand beneath her chin, drawing her lips to his. Their kiss was awkward and tender and the most exciting thing to happen to him in years.
Dear Reader,
Last we “talked” my kiddos were graduating from high school. Now, they’re setting off for college. Where did the time go? Aside from my achy “rain” knee, I don’t feel any older. Lord knows, most days our kids don’t act older! LOL! So why are we now packing up their bedrooms to launch them into the world?
In Dallas and Josie’s story, Dallas is a single father to naughty twins, which gave me plenty of time to reflect over our own twin mischief. Our daughter refused to cook in her play kitchen with fake food, so I was constantly finding the milk, eggs and cheese in her room! Our son could take his room from neat-as-a-pin to ransacked in under thirty minutes. Finally, I gave up on sorting Legos, Lincoln Logs, army guys and dinosaurs into their own neat bins. Giant tubs were much easier to shovel the mess into!
At each stage of raising our children, Hubby and I were convinced that that was the toughest we’d have it. Just as Dallas feels kindergarten is hard, fourth grade science fair projects kicked our behinds. Now that our kids will soon be leaving the nest, we’re thinking the hardest parenting task of all is saying goodbye.
Lucky for Dallas, he’s got a few more years before that happens. What he doesn’t have is the willpower to steer clear of Josie, the girls’ pretty teacher!
Happy reading!
Laura Marie
The Rancher’s Twin Troubles
Laura Marie Altom
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
After college (Go Hogs!), bestselling, award-winning author Laura Marie Altom did a brief stint as an interior designer before becoming a stay-at-home mom to boy/girl twins and a bonus son. Always an avid romance reader, she knew it was time to try her hand at writing when she found herself replotting the afternoon soaps.
When not immersed in her next story, Laura teaches art at a local middle school. In her free time, she beats her kids at video games, tackles Mount Laundry and of course reads romance!
Laura loves hearing from readers at either P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or email [email protected].
Love winning fun stuff? Check out
www.lauramariealtom.com!
This story is dedicated to all of the friends
who’ve helped raise our kids.
We couldn’t have done it without you!
Special thanks to Tom and Karen Gilbert, Lynne and
Tony Beeson, Susie Thornbrugh, Kim Blackketter,
Jennifer Crutchfield, Jackie and John Butts, Karen
and Jack Lairmore, and Melinda and Scott Taylor.
This list is woefully incomplete, but to fill it,
I’d need a dedication book, rather than page!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
“Are we talking about the same kids?” Dallas Buckhorn shifted on the pint-size chair in his twin daughters’ kindergarten classroom. Across a sea of tiny tables, his angels made dinner in a play kitchen. “Because my Betsy and Bonnie wouldn’t pull a stunt like that.”
Uptight Miss Griffin folded her hands atop her desk, full lips pressed into a frown. Her mess of red curls had escaped the clip at the back of her neck, making her look more like a pretty teen ditching school than a full-grown woman teaching it. “While the girls are lucky to have such wonderful support in their corner, the fact remains that our classroom fish tank had an entire package of Kool-Aid spilled in.”
“Yes, well—” the tank’s purple-tinged water forced Dallas to hide a chuckle “—the goldfish don’t seem to mind.”
“Since you seem to find this amusing, Mr. Buckhorn, you should know that at the time of the incident, your girls were the only children near the tank.”
“Yeah, but did you see them do it?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “No, but—”
Dallas stood. “Ever heard the phrase ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”
“Sir, with all due respect, this isn’t the first time I’ve had trouble with the girls. They’ve put popcorn in the plants to see if it would grow. Sneaked cafeteria food into our play kitchen and served it to other students. The last time it rained, they—”
“Whoa.” Slapping on his Stetson, Dallas said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but if Bonnie and Betsy did all of that, sounds to me like my babies aren’t getting adequate supervision. Maybe you’re the one who needs looking after?”
On her feet, hand on her hips, she said, “I’ve been teaching for ten years, and trust me, I understand it must be hard hearing your children are, well…out of control, but—”
Dallas whistled for his girls and they came running. “Did you two do that to the fish tank?” He pointed at the purple mess.
“No, Daddy,” they said in unison, big blue eyes wholly innocent.
“There you have it.” Hands on their backs, he ushered them to the classroom’s door. The smell of crayons and paste was bringing on a headache. Clearly, the teacher must’ve been sniffing too much of that white school glue. “My girls said they’re not guilty. End of story. Before we go, want help switching out the water?”
“HE DIDN’T?”
“Oh, he did.” Josie put a carrot stick to her mouth and chomped. The teachers’ lounge was blessedly quiet. Josie had a free period while her kiddos were in music class, and she was enjoying every minute with her best friend, Natalie Stump. “Then he and the girls cleaned out the tank. Does that sound like something the father of innocent children would do?”
“No…” Natalie struggled opening a chocolate milk carton. “But it was decent of him. Maybe he has issues with admitting his daughters are anything less than perfect.” As Weed Gulch Elementary School’s counselor, Natalie was