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idea, Charles,” another masculine voice said. “I brought over some of Taylor’s scones earlier, and I do believe there’s enough to go around.”

“So that’s where they went,” a third voice said. “And here I thought my faculties were failing me.”

The sound of retreating footsteps reached her, and she looked at first Henry and then Morgan. “Sounds like your mother brought some friends with her.” The voices and everyday conversation finished the job of pulling Tamara out of her lassitude. She took a step away from Henry.

Morgan turned her and reached down, raising her zipper and fastening her pants. She shook her head, not certain why she’d just stood there and let him fix her clothing as if she were a two-year-old.

“Friends?” He bent down and kissed her, a fast, fleeting touch of his lips on hers that despite her recent orgasm tasted like more.

“You could say she brought some friends with her,” Henry agreed. “Three friends, in fact. Our fathers.”

Tamara blinked. “You have three fathers? How is that even possible?”

Morgan’s chuckle, intimate and deep, caressed her like a firm, warm hand.

“It’s possible because, Red, that’s how Kendalls do things. Come on, Dad’s scones are not to be missed.”

Tamara let Morgan take her hand and lead her toward the stairs. The smart-ass inside her wouldn’t be silent.

I started the day with a plane crash
and then everything just got weird from there.

Chapter 5

“Ah, there you are. You must be Tamara. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

Tamara couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful red-haired, green-eyed woman who came over to her, smile wide, arms outstretched. Before she could take even a breath, those arms enfolded her in a hug that, for reasons she didn’t want to think about just then, made her want to cling, and maybe cry just a little. The woman was taller than her, of course, and the urge to lay her head on her breast and burrow in shocked her.

Tamara usually didn’t like other women—not easily, and especially not on first meeting. But she found herself instantly liking Mrs. Kendall.

“Itty, this is our mother, Samantha, and our fathers, Charles, Preston, and Taylor.” Each man raised his hand in turn, but Tamara didn’t know if she could keep their names straight. She felt more than a little emotionally off balance.

Henry came to stand beside her, his smile wide and cocky—the way she’d gotten used to seeing it.

“Itty?” Samantha raised one eyebrow, and her gaze narrowed as she looked at her son.

Tamara wanted to laugh when Henry’s cheeks turned a light pink and his expression became sheepish. “Um, for ‘Itty-bitty,’ on account of, well, she is.”

Samantha’s eyes widened. She shot an equally parental look at Morgan. “Is that what you call Tamara, too?”

“No, ma’am, of course not. I call her Red.”

One of their fathers—she had no idea which one—snickered. Apparently Samantha had no trouble knowing which one, for she looked over her shoulder and said, “Taylor, please stop laughing and pour Tamara a cup of coffee.”

“Of course, my love. Ms. Jones, why don’t you come and join us men at the table, here,” Taylor said.

“Good call, Taylor. Keep her out of the line of fire, as it were.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m Preston, by the way. Don’t worry if you can’t sort us out on first meet.”

“You can call us each Dad, and then that way at least one of us is sure to answer.”

Tamara deduced it was Charles who said that.

“I likely won’t be able to keep you straight. You all look somewhat alike.”

“Indeed we do,” Taylor said. “That’s because we’re triplets. Fraternal, not identical, at least not on the outside.” He set a cup of coffee down in front of her. Preston passed her the cream, Charles the sugar.

She looked over at Morgan and Henry, surprised to find they hadn’t moved, but waited silently, bravely bearing their mother’s stare, and standing at parade rest. Samantha Kendall stood before them, her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she was trying to decide which one had sinned the most and therefore deserved the greater punishment.

“Did they at least ask you if you were all right after your harrowing experience this morning, Tamara?” Samantha looked over at her.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up. She hadn’t been able to gain the upper hand with these two flyboys since she’d met them. So she grinned and ratted them out. “No, ma’am. That one,” she pointed to Morgan, “hit me with a running tackle, threw me to the ground, and pinned me there. And then that one,” she pointed to Henry, “held me off the ground like I was a squirming puppy and didn’t put me down for the longest time.”

“More like a spitting kitten,” Henry said. “And I was trying to avoid your wildly kicking feet, Itty.”

Samantha closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “I would wish the two of you all sons, but I have a feeling that would just punish your wife. Therefore, may you have half a dozen daughters to drive you to total distraction.”

“Ouch,” Preston said.

“Can you imagine if we’d had all girls instead of all boys?” Charles asked.

“No, I can’t.” Taylor shuddered. “Nor do I want to. No offense to the ladies among us.”

“Sons.” Samantha’s pronouncement made both Morgan and Henry cringe.

“Sorry, Mother.” Morgan leaned over and kissed her right cheek. “We’ll try to do better.”

“Sorry, Mother.” Henry kissed her left one. “We really will.”

Samantha hugged each one in turn. “Don’t try. Do.” Then she came over and placed a hand on Tamara’s shoulder. “Are you all right after your harrowing ordeal this morning?”

Tamara couldn’t help but smile. “I’m fine, really. And in their defense, they were trying to get me away from the plane until they were certain it wouldn’t explode. If I had been thinking clearly, I’d have stepped well away from the Piper as soon as I was out of it for the same reason.”

“You managed to land a single-engine plane without benefit

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