Mothers In A Million: A Father for Her Triplets / First Comes Baby.... SUSAN MEIER

he was the first person—the only person—to know her whole story. It didn’t seem right that this had to end.

      She put three stars on the plus column for a relationship. He liked her kids. He was fun to be around. He knew her past and didn’t think any less of her for it.

      They settled on the worn bench seats, said grace and dug into dinner.

      He groaned with ecstasy.

      She smiled. Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was his through stomach must have known tall, perpetually hungry Wyatt.

      “This is fantastic.”

      “Just a little something I can whip up at a moment’s notice.” Not that she was bragging, but it never hurt to remind him that she wasn’t just a businesswoman and mother. There were as many facets to her as there were to any of the women he dated in Florida. She smoothed her palms down the front of her shorts. After cooking the chicken, she’d changed into her best pink shirt, the one her former coworkers told her bought out the best in her skin tones. And thinking of the bikini-clad beach bunnies he probably met in Florida, she was glad she looked her best. But sitting across from him, acknowledging the realities of his life, she fought the doubts that beat at her brain.

      How did a thirty-three-year-old mother of triplets compete with beach bunnies?

      Should she even try?

      Wasn’t she setting herself up for failure?

      They ate dinner with Owen and the girls giggling happily. Owen grinned with his mouth full and made Lainie say, “Oh, gross! Tell him to stop that.”

      But Missy only smiled, glad to have her mind off Wyatt for a few seconds. It was good to see Owen behave like a little boy. Gross or not.

      When they were done eating, Wyatt helped her clear the picnic table and bring everything into the kitchen. She persuaded him to help her tidy up, delaying his visit, but she could see he was eager to go.

      Fears and doubts pummeled her. He’d talked so little she was beginning to believe he’d already made up his mind. And if he’d set his course on forgetting her, wouldn’t it be embarrassing to talk about thinking of a compromise for them? That kiss on Saturday, the one that had gotten away from them and knocked both of them to their knees, proved there was something powerful between them. Something she wanted. Something he seemed to be afraid of.

      And even now he was straining toward the door.

      Owen popped into the kitchen, already bathed. His sisters were now in the tub. With his pajama top on backward, he raced to Wyatt with a huge storybook. Big and shiny, with a colorful cover, it hid half his body.

      “You wead this to me?”

      “I don’t know, buddy. I should get going.”

      Missy waited in silence. She could nudge Wyatt into reading the book, but this was a big part of what she’d want in any man she let into her life. A real love for her kids. Wyatt had shown he loved to play. He’d also shown a certain kinship with Owen. But when the chips were down, when he wanted to leave, would he stay?

      He stooped down. “I’m kinda tired.”

      Owen rolled his eyes. “It takes five minutes.”

      Then the most wonderful thing happened. Wyatt laughed. He laughed long and hard. When he was done, he scooped Owen up, book and all, and carried him down the hall. “Which one’s your room?”