Page 3 of Honeymoon for Seven

Great. Just what she didn’t need this trip, wayward children bouncing off passengers. When the weight remained and no apologies followed, she glanced behind her and then down. “Well, hello.”

A little one, barely taller than Ginnie’s knees, with long curls that hung over her shoulders and big blue eyes stared up at her. “Mommy.”

Mommy. Quickly Ginnie glanced around her, looking for a frantic parent. Nothing. “Hello.”

The cherub smiled. “Mommy.”

Okay, looking at the kid’s coloring, Ginnie doubted seriously that Mommy bore any resemblance to her Mediterranean genetics, but crouching to the little girl’s level, she smiled back. “I guess we need to find your mommy.”

Still grinning brightly, the little girl repeated “Mommy” even though she now had a clear view of Ginnie’s face.

“No sweetie, but we’ll find her.”

“Mommy.” The little girl flung her arms around Ginnie’s neck and almost knocked her off her feet.

For the next few seconds, Ginnie scanned the people walking past and debated if she should risk the kid screaming her lungs off and just pick the child up and take her to the concierge, or if waiting here for her mom and dad to find her would be better.

The little girl continued to squeeze Ginnie’s neck, and reflexively she hugged the child back. Shaking her head, she figured if the kid thought she was Mommy and didn’t mind being hugged, standing up with her wouldn’t be a problem. Obviously, the real Mommy wasn’t looking for her so Ginnie would have to go find the woman.

“There you are,” the rich deep voice floated over her like a warm shower.

Tipping her head back, her gaze locked with eyes the same beautiful shade of blue as the child still clinging to her neck.

The man hunched down beside them and looked straight into the little girl’s eyes, smiling at her with the same wide grin. The resemblance was uncanny. “Your mommy is going to be very happy that I found you.”

That silky smooth voice was slowly turning Ginnie’s legs to mush. Why oh why were all the good men taken?

For just a few seconds, Nick thought his sister had found Phoebe. Once he got close enough to see the woman, he realized that little Phoebe had latched onto someone wearing a similar dress. He supposed when you’re two years old, and standing up only seeing people’s knees, one yellow dress and woman’s legs must look like any other yellow dress and woman’s legs.

“Oh, good. You found her.” His sister Theresa came rushing up beside them. “I swear she’s getting faster every day.”

Even though her mother had arrived, Phoebe was still clinging to the stranger’s neck and didn’t show any sign of intending to let go.

The stranger must have concluded the same thing as she wrapped her arms around his niece and pushed to her feet. “I think she found me is more accurate.”

“Come to Mommy, baby.”

Phoebe frowned at her mother, then looked to the stranger and back. It took the child a few moments to decide that the stranger was not her mom and finally leaned toward his sister.

“That’s my sweet girl.” Theresa turned to face the other woman in yellow. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her. I’m a little overwhelmed with all these people and corralling five children.”

The way the stranger’s eyes rounded momentarily, she reflected the way he felt when he thought about going from three to five kids in the time it took to sayI do.

“Oh, good. You found her.” His mother, with a child in each hand, came rushing up to them, just slightly out of breath. “How can someone with such short legs move so fast?”

The stranger looked from one adult to the other then down to the two little kids. Her rather stoic expression shifted and she smiled at the two boys who looked nothing like either parent, and wiggling her fingers, waved at them. Immediately both boys smiled and waved back.

“I’m sorry. I should introduce myself. I’m Theresa Reidy, these are my daughters, Rachel and Monica.”

Monica held out her favorite stuffed rabbit. “This is Bunny.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bunny.” The woman in yellow squatted to Monica’s height, coaxing a wide smile from his younger niece.

“And this little munchkin,” Theresa jostled the toddler on her hip, “is my daughter Phoebe.”

The poor kid still studied the stranger with an intensity he’d never noticed before. Of course, he didn’t really spend that much time with his youngest niece as he did with the older siblings.

On her feet again, the stranger extended her hand. “I’m Ginnie Ummarino.”

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