Taking on Twins, page 19
“Can you edit the background in?”
“Not without a lot of effort. Let’s ditch the kids. Shoot the scene without them.”
“Use my kids.” A man pushed his boys forward. “They know how to listen.”
The crowd broke into laughter at the man’s joke. Greg didn’t like it. Keeping calm was one thing. Allowing his children to behave like little hellions and walk all over him was another.
As if on cue, Ben picked up Annie’s discarded fish and shoved it down the back of her shirt. She screeched and went into a frenzy. Wheeling on her twin, she pushed him to the ground. He fell like a ton of bricks, but came up again with the force of a linebacker.
Greg interceded, not a second too soon. “Hold it right there, buddy,” he demanded, his voice gruff.
Ben didn’t listen and took a swing at Annie, missing her chin by an inch.
Annie let loose with a high-pitched wail. “I’m telling Mommy.”
Something inside Greg snapped. He heard the words pouring from his mouth, but it was as if someone else was speaking them. No, yelling them.
“That’s enough!” he roared, and grabbed the children by their collars. “I’ve had it up to here with the pair of you. Quit your fighting this instant, you hear me?”
“She pushed me.”
“He put a fish down my shirt.”
Ben and Annie flung accusations at each other. Greg didn’t care.
“You’re both grounded. No horseback riding or swimming for the rest of the week.”
“Daddy,” Annie wailed.
“Not fair,” whined Ben.
“Let’s go.” He began marching them toward the parking lot and his SUV.
“Greg,” Russ called after him.
“Later.” Greg wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the kids once he got them back to their cabin, only that he had to remove them from the ever increasing and highly curious crowd.
“You can’t leave now. The awards ceremony is coming up.”
Greg hardly heard Russ through the drumming in his ears.
“Daddy, slow down.” Annie pulled against him.
“I’m sick and tired of your constant fighting.” He kept going. “You and your brother embarrassed me. And ruined the shoot.”
It suddenly occurred to him how much he sounded like his father, and his feet froze.
Looking down, he saw two frightened faces staring up at him. Of course they were frightened. He’d never acted this way, and must seem like a stranger to them. Damn it. How could he be angry with them when hadn’t spent enough time preparing them before putting them in front of the camera?
How could he be angry with Corrine for yelling when he was guilty of the same thing?
Boy, when he screwed up, he really screwed up.
“Guys, I’m sorry.” He loosened his grip on them. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you.”
Greg wasn’t sure what he expected from them but it wasn’t their frigid, silent stares.
“This tournament’s been crazy.” Everything the last two days had been crazy, starting with the fight with Corrine. He let go of Ben and Annie and placed his hands on their small heads, stroking their hair. “What do you say we go sit down for a second, just to cool off?”
“I want Mommy.” Annie’s lower lip trembled.
“You’re a jerk,” Ben said. He grabbed his sister’s hand, and the two of them bolted into the crowd.
“Ben, Annie, come back here.”
They were short in stature and the crowd was enormous. Greg quickly lost sight of them.
Agonizing pain filled his chest, nearly bringing him to his knees. This wasn’t the first time his kids had taken off, but they hadn’t been angry and confused and—this really hurt—despising him. He couldn’t bear it if he lost everything he’d found with them this summer.
Or what he’d found with Corrine. She’d become a part of him, too. As had Bear Creek Ranch and her family.
He didn’t want to leave. After the tournament, or ever.
While his first instinct was to tear through the hordes of people, looking for Ben and Annie, he listened to his head and ran to the main lodge. Natalie had assisted him in locating Ben and Annie before, and she’d do it again. After that, he’d drive back to the cabin on the chance they’d gone there.
With breath coming in bursts, he called Paulette and advised her of what she and Russ should do in his absence. Then, opening the door to the main lodge, he entered the lobby.
Natalie was surrounded by guests, but she took one look at him and hurried out from behind the counter. “What’s wrong, Mr. Pfitser?”
GREG STOOD AT THE kitchen door, trying to think of what he’d say to Corrine. The phone call from Natalie telling him where the kids were had come in a few minutes ago. This was after a frantic and exhausting hour-and-fifteen-minute search. If the ranch wasn’t overrun with guests and the employees scattered in a dozen different directions, Ben and Annie might have been found sooner.
Greg was just glad they were safe and sound.
They were also in the last place he’d expect them to be. Corrine’s kitchen. He’d thought after what happened yesterday morning, they were just as angry at her as they were him. Apparently not.
He opened the door and went in. The noise was deafening. Dishes clattering, pots and pans clanging, staff calling orders and instructions back and forth. According to the clock on the wall, the dinner service was in full swing.
Because Greg would have missed the predinner awards ceremony, Paulette had taken charge and, working her incredible magic, arranged for the event to take place after dinner. He had, at most, a half hour before he had to get ready—and prepare a public apology to his fans. He owed them that much after his embarrassing display earlier.
“Great turnout today.” Luke passed him, carrying trash. During the summer, Greg had gotten acquainted with most of the regular kitchen staff. “Heard reservations are going crazy.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Luke grinned. “Job security. Everybody’s happy.”
Greg, too. For Corrine and all the Tuckers.
“Can’t wait to watch the shows. When are they on?”
“October, I think.”
“Just in time for the holidays.” Luke meandered toward the door, carting the trash bag over his shoulder like Santa Claus. “Oh, by the way, Corrine’s in there.”
“I was looking for my kids.”
“Right.” Luke whistled as he went out the door.
Greg traveled the short hall to the kitchen, nervous anticipation eating a hole in his stomach. At the entryway, he stopped to watch, marveling at how well the staff worked together in such a relatively cramped space.
A lot had gone through his mind since Ben and Annie ran away from him, not all of it about his relationship with them and how he’d messed up. He’d also thought about Corrine and how unfair he’d been to her. She had every right not to speak to him again. He hoped she didn’t exercise that right, at least not until he’d apologized and maybe slipped in something about his feelings for her.
He spotted Ben and Annie at last. He wouldn’t have recognized them if not for hearing Annie’s squeal—this one of delight. She and her brother stood at the sink, the same one he had the night he’d helped Corrine wash dishes. Ben and Annie were also washing dishes, if one could call it that. It looked like play to Greg. The staff didn’t seem to mind the kids’ presence, ducking beneath their arms, reaching over their heads and going around them if necessary.
Someone, he assumed Corrine, had given them stools to stand on and outfitted them in paper caps and white aprons that were far too big for their small bodies. The sink was filled to the brim with frothy suds and oversize pots and pans. Ben was using the sprayer like a water gun, drenching Annie. She didn’t appear to mind, and at one point threw a handful of suds at him.
“Hey, you two, back to work. No horsing around on the job.” Corrine appeared beside them.
Her order had been quietly delivered, yet firm. Greg waited for Ben and Annie to explode or rebel. It didn’t happen. Instead, they muttered, “Okay,” and returned to washing the pots and pans, though it still looked like playing. No matter; they were happy, content and, this was the most important part, behaving.
Corrine had pulled off the impossible. She was nothing short of amazing.
And he was crazy, madly in love with her.
To hell with both of them being stuck in the past. It was time to move on, and he didn’t want to make the journey alone. Now, he need only convince Corrine to join him.
Greg was still watching the three people who mattered most in the world to him when Gerrie passed by, carrying a crate of apples on her way to the walk-in cooler. “How’s it going, Mr. Pfitser?”
At the sound of his name, Corrine, Ben and Annie all turned to look at him. Before Greg could wonder if the kids had gotten over being angry at him, they jumped off their stools and ran straight toward him, flinging their arms around his waist.
Step one accomplished, and it was a good one. He closed his eyes and returned their hug, holding them as tightly as possible without crushing them.
“Daddy.” Annie beamed up at him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” His voice cracked.
“We’re working for Corrine,” Ben said proudly.
“I see that.”
“She told us if we do a good job, she’s going to give us some ice cream. Do you want some ice cream, too?”
“Do I have to wash dishes?”
“Of course,” Corrine said, walking toward them, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
Did this mean she wasn’t angry at him, either?
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for the ranch,” she said. “We’re very grateful.”
“No, thank you.” He let go of the kids to meet her halfway.
“For what?”
“Teaching me that I’m not my father, and a little reasonable discipline now and again is a good thing.”
“So is kicking back and taking it easy. Within reason,” she added with a laugh.
Greg took the plunge. “I’m sorry about yesterday morning. I was wrong.”
“Me, too.”
“I can’t believe I got mad at you for yelling at Ben and Annie. Not after the display I put on today.” He patted Ben’s and Annie’s heads. “I surprised they’re even talking to me.”
“Are you kidding? They adore you.”
“What about their boss?”
“Me?” She pointed to herself. “Yes.”
All at once, the entire kitchen went quiet. Every pair of eyes, including those of his kids, were focused on him and Corrine.
She hesitated. Greg thought the wait was going to kill him but he didn’t dare rush her. Didn’t dare move.
“I’ve been afraid a long time.”
“Are you still?”
“Yes. That you’re going to leave without me telling you how I really feel.”
Greg might have made the first move, but it was Corrine who flew into his arms. Paying no attention to their audience, or their whoops and hollers, he kissed her fiercely, possessively, as if they hadn’t been apart for days and wouldn’t be ever again if he had any say in the matter.
Annie’s tug on his pant leg distracted him.
“Daddy, are we going to live at Bear Creek Ranch now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not on the ranch, but near it. So we can come here all the time when you and your brother visit me. Us,” he corrected, and looked to Corrine for confirmation.
“What about buying a house in Denver to be near the kids?”
“As much as I travel, I can always fit a quick trip in to see them. And there’s always the summer and next year’s tournament.” He groaned and clamped a hand to the side of his head. “The tournament! I have to get out there. I left Russ and Paulette with a pretty big mess.” He’d be lucky if his crew still talked to him, much less still worked for him. “Kids, why don’t you come with me.”
“Wait!” Corrine stood back and evaluated all three of them. “There are a couple of conditions.” She tried to come across as serious. Greg doubted anyone was fooled. “You and the kids have to learn to pick up after yourselves and pitch in with the housework. And Belle must be trained to leave the garbage alone.”
“I’ll do the dishes,” Ben offered.
“An excellent start.”
Greg studied her in return. “I have my own conditions, too.”
“Oh?” She raised her brows.
“You have to promise to dedicate at least one day a week to nothing but fun and relaxation.”
“I see.” She folded her arms across her middle, appearing to deliberate. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Pfitser.” Unable to maintain the charade, she broke into a sunny smile that lit up the room as it washed over him. “But I think that’s an arrangement I can live with.”
He pulled her into another embrace, one that included Ben and Annie. “For how long?”
Corrine lifted her mouth to his and said against his lips, “How does forever and ever sound to you?”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4848-3
TAKING ON TWINS
Copyright © 2010 by Cathy McDavid.
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Cathy McDavid, Taking on Twins
