Strike by Jennifer Ryder Page B

I’d barely spent any time around young kids. I don’t have any girlfriends who are at that stage in life, and travelling overseas, it was party central.
    “Come on, boys. Let’s get you cleaned up so we can have a snuggle and read a book before bed,” Aidan says as he stands, filling up our wine glasses. He winks at Eevie before wrestling the boys and taking them from the room.
    “He’s like a teddy bear around your boys. It’s wonderful to see,” I say, appreciating how lucky she is to have someone like Aidan.
    I’d tried not to drool over Aidan the first time I met him, but really, as if I could help it. Tall with sexy brown hair, his pale blue eyes drew me in, and he had a body that I knew was toned to perfection underneath. He still does. Motocross riders at the top of their field have to be fit, and he is fit . Even though I don’t know Aidan all that well, he’d always been polite and friendly. And now I can add that he is an adoring, patient father to that long list of qualities. My heart swells thinking how much Aidan reminds me of my own father. Daddy would do anything to make me happy. Except maybe let me be with Spencer . If Spencer and I were going to work, we had a giant hurdle to overcome. But I had a feeling deep down we would get there. Even though he hadn’t told me about riding. I guess I should give him a break. We’ve seen each other three times. It takes a long time to get to know someone, and I know that soon we’ll be getting to know each other a damn sight more.
    “Best dad ever,” she says, her loving gaze following Aidan. He sits the boys up on the lounge and scoops one under each arm and reads them a bedtime story. Eevie’s eyes glisten under the muted light. Maybe it’s time to change the subject.
    “You know, Eevie, you’d never know you’d had twins,” I say, looking over her toned arms and slim frame.
    She reaches her arm across the table, and pats the back of my hand. “You can come over any time, April. You’re good for my ego.” She chuckles softly, and takes another sip of wine.
    “Did it take long to get back into shape?”
    “Not really. As you might guess, with those two little firecrackers I don’t sit down much.”
    “Yeah, I can see how you’d keep busy.”
    “Apart from running after the boys, I do a fair bit of stuff around the farm. Even have a ride on the dirtbike occasionally.”
    “You can ride?” Wow. Good on her.
    “Yeah. Getting better. Even though the boys are only eighteen months old, Aidan’s already built them a track.”
    I laugh out loud. “My dad was the same. I was riding when I was five, but Mum had other ideas. Wanted me to be a ballerina.”
    “You’ve certainly got the height for it,” she says, and her gaze wanders down over my chest.
    “But not the flat chest,” I say, and we laugh together.
    “Sorry, it was rude of me to stare. Can you tell I hardly ever drink?”
    “Don’t worry about it, like I said to —” Crap . Spencer. “Like I said to someone the other day, I’m a tomboy, and tomboys don’t do tutus.”
    “I guess I’m a bit like that too. I grew up wrestling three brothers. I wasn’t a big fan of Barbies or that crap,” Eevie says, and she shakes her head and chuckles.
    “Barbie is so wrong on so many levels.” I’d never been a fan of those dolls either, but that didn’t stop Mum from buying them for me.
    “I agree. Especially the grown-up kind.”
    Huh? “Meaning?”
    “If we get through another bottle, I may just be brave enough to tell you.”
    “Deal. Come one then, drink up, buttercup.” I crack open the next bottle of red and fill our now empty glasses, eager to find out the story. “Anyways,” I say, leaning back in my chair, putting one foot on my seat, and resting my elbow on my knee. “Even though Mum wanted me to be more like her ‘little princess’, it didn’t stop Dad and I from sneaking off. We’d tell Mum we were going to the park and then go and burn the bikes around