Detective Barelli's Legendary Triplets

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She smiled and lay pie crust over the tins, making some kind of decoration in the center. “Same way you did bringing the triplets from the kitchen to the living room. You just have to move fast and be constantly on guard. I do what I have to. That’s just the way it is.”

An angry wail came from the playpen. Then another. The three Ingalls triplets began rubbing their eyes again, this time with very upset little faces.

“Perfect timing,” she said. “The pies are assembled.” She hurried to the sink to wash her hands, then hurried over to the playpen. “Nap time for you cuties.”

“I’ll help,” Reed said, putting down his mug.

Brody was holding up his arms and staring at Reed. Reed smiled and picked him up, the little weight sweet in his arms. Brody reached up and grabbed Reed’s cheek, like his sister had, not that there was much to grab. Norah scooped up Bea and Bella. They headed upstairs, the unlined wood steps creaky and definitely not baby-friendly when they would start to crawl, which would probably be soon.

The nursery was spare but had the basics. Three cribs, a dresser and changing table. The room was painted a pale yellow with white stars and moons stenciled all over.

“Ever changed a diaper?” she asked as she put both babies in a crib, taking off their onesies.

“Cops have done just about everything,” he said. “I’ve changed my share of diapers.” He laid the baby on the changing table. “Phew. Just wet.” He made quick work of the task, sprinkling on some cornstarch powder and fastening a fresh diaper.

“His jammies are in the top drawer. Any footsie ones.”

Reed picked up the baby and carried him over to the dresser, using one hand to open the drawer. The little baby clothes were very neatly folded. He pulled out the top footed onesie, blue cotton with dinosaurs. He set Brody down, then gently put his little arms and legs into the right holes, and there Brody was, all ready for bed. He held the baby against his chest, Brody’s impossibly little eyes drooping, his mouth quirking.

He tried to imagine his own father holding him like this, his own flesh and blood, and just walking away. No look back. No nothing. How was it possible? Reed couldn’t fathom it.

“His crib is on the right,” Norah said, pointing as she took one baby girl out of the crib and changed her, then laid her down in the empty crib. She scooped up the other baby, changed her and laid her back in the crib.

He set Brody down and gave his little cheek a caress. Brody grabbed his thumb and held on.

“He sure does like you,” Norah whispered.

Reed swallowed against the gushy feeling in the region of his chest. As Brody’s eyes drifted closed, the tiny fist released and Reed stepped back.

Norah shut off the light and turned on a very low lullaby player. After half a second of fussing, all three babies closed their eyes, quirking their tiny mouths and stretching their arms over their heads.

“Have a good nap, my loves,” Norah said, tiptoeing toward the door.

Reed followed her, his gold band glinting in the dim light of the room. He stared at the ring, then at his surroundings. He was in a nursery. With the woman he’d accidentally married. And with her triplets, whom he’d just babysat, read to and helped get to nap time.

What the hell had happened to his life? A day ago he’d been about to embark on a new beginning here in Wedlock Creek, where life had once seemed so idyllic out in the country where his grandmother had lived alone after she’d been widowed. Instead of focusing on reading the WCPD manuals and getting up to speed on open cases, he was getting his heart squeezed by three eighteen-pound tiny humans.

And their beautiful mother.

As he stepped into the hallway, the light cleared his brain. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. Pick you up at eight thirty tomorrow for the trip to Brewer? The courthouse opens at nine. Luckily, I don’t report for duty until noon.”

“Sounds good,” she said, leading the way downstairs. “Thanks for helping. You put Brody down for his nap like a champ.”

But instead of heading toward the door, he found himself just standing there. He didn’t want to leave the four Ingalls alone. On their own. In this falling-down house.

He felt...responsible for them, he realized.

But he also needed to take a giant step backward and catch his breath.

So why was it so hard to walk out the door?

Chapter Four (#u4acbeb57-77c7-5874-b1c9-a90e87e0256b)

At exactly eight thirty on Monday morning, Norah saw Reed pull up in front of her house. He must be as ready to get this marriage business taken care of as she was. Yesterday, after he’d left, she’d taken a long, hot bubble bath upstairs, ears peeled for the triplets, but they’d napped for a good hour and a half. In that time, a zillion thoughts had raced through her head, from the bits and pieces she remembered of her evening with Fabio to the wedding to waking up to find Detective Reed Barelli in her bed to how he played upsie-downsie with the triplets and read them a story. And fixed her bagel. And the cabinet.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him, how kind he’d been, how good-natured about the whole mess. It had been the man’s first day in town. And he’d found himself married to a mother of three. She also couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked in those black boxer briefs, how tall and muscular he was. The way his dark eyes crinkled at the corners.