Triple Trouble by Lois Faye Dyer

eyes twinkling, “it’s a good thing something finally worked. Because after days of little to no sleep, if we were married and these were our kids, I’d seriously consider divorcing you and giving you custody—just so I could have eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
    Charlene burst out laughing.
    Jessie stirred, her eyelids lifting. Charlene immediately muffled her laughter, smoothing her palm in circles over the baby’s back, and she drifted asleep once more.
    When Charlene looked up at Nick, he was watching her through half-closed eyes. Her heartbeat accelerated, her lungs seized as she stared at him. Then his features shifted, erasing whatever she thought she’d glimpsed on his face, and his big body shifted restlessly against the cushions. She could no longer read his expression—was no longer sure the moment had even happened, or if she’d imagined the sudden blaze of sexual awareness she’d felt between them.
    “I think it’s safe to take them back to their cribs,” he said, stroking one big palm over Jackie’s back. The little girl didn’t stir.
    “At least Jackie,” Charlene agreed. She glanced down at Jessie, who seemed as deeply asleep as her sister. “And Jessie. What about Jenny?”
    “She’s out like a light.” Nick gently picked up Jackie and stood. “If you’ll keep an eye on Jenny, I’ll take Jackie up and come back.”
    Charlene nodded and he headed for the stairs, Jackie cradled in his arms. She turned to watch him go just as Ella reached the end of her song. A heartbeat later, the opening lyrics of Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” thumped from the speakers and filled the room.
    “I’ve got to stop watching Nick walk away from me,” she muttered to herself. We have a professional relationship, employer-employee, and ogling the boss’s very fine backside is probably taboo. Not to mention embarrassing should he turn around and catch me staring.
    Rufus’s tail thumped against the wood floor. Charlene looked down at him and found him eyeing her, pink tongue lolling, ears alert.
    She could swear he was laughing.
    The following morning, Charlene wanted nothing more than to hit her alarm clock’s Snooze button and roll over for another hour of sleep. But she knew if she didn’t shower and have her coffee before the triplets awoke, she wasn’t likely to do so until their afternoon nap.
    She barely had time to pour a cup of coffee and say good-morning to Nick when he entered the kitchen to fill his travel mug before Melissa arrived. Nick left for the office moments later and the purr of the Porsche’s engine had barely trailed away to silence outside when LouAnn knocked on the back door. The triplets awakened soon after, and the day’s chaos began. When the babies napped after lunch, Charlene fell into bed and slept dreamlessly.
    Just about the time that Charlene was catching her much-needed nap, Ross Fortune arrived in Nick’s office for their meeting.
    “Ross. Good to see you.” Nick shoved his chair back and stood, leaning across the desk to shake his cousin’s hand. He hadn’t seen Ross since the New Year’s Eve party at Red Restaurant. His brown hair was longer, brushing his shoulders. On a less rugged man it might have looked effeminate. On Ross, the long hair had the opposite effect. “Have a seat.”
    Ross sat in one of the two chrome-and-leather chairs facing Nick’s desk and took a small notebook and pen from the inner pocket of his jacket. “I appreciate your cooperation in agreeing to see me today. I know it was short notice.”
    “No problem.” Nick dropped back into his chair, leaning back and linking his fingers across his midriff. “I’m happy to do anything that might help you find out what’s going on with the family.”
    “Good.” Ross’s brown eyes were shrewd, his gaze direct. “Give me the highlights.”
    Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Someone slipped a note into Patrick’s pocket at Red Restaurant during the New Year’s party. He called us