There’d been her confusion over getting him registered. Her admission that the inn she supposedly loved felt more like a trap than her life’s calling. That odd bit about her not even knowing where the oars were kept. The kitchen window, and now frozen cookie dough. Yet she professed to be one of the most accomplished chefs in Missouri.
If he hadn’t offered to help out in the kitchen, he’d have never known about the cookies. He’d have been as oblivious as her guests—and he wished he still was.
His brother never would’ve even been in the kitchen, except maybe for a couple of impromptu inspections.
So what was Heath supposed to do with this information?
After Sadie finished tucking everyone in for the night, they’d made a date to meet by the lakeside gazebo for more talk—and, Heath had hoped, at least one more kiss. But now he didn’t know what to think, other than that if he and Sadie were to have any hope of exploring the chemistry between them, he owed it to himself to confront her about the cookies. He had to know why she’d lied not only to him but to her guests.
“You’re a doll for helping me like this,” Sarah said, bustling into the room and planting a silver tray on the longer of two stainless-steel counters.
“My pleasure,” he said, pulse racing. Was now the time to bring up Cookie-gate? Or should he wait? Until, say, after the weekend was over and he could come clean on a few matters himself. For starters, by telling her his real name.
“Look what I found,” she said, wagging a half-full bottle of red wine.
“Is that what goes with cookies and edible Japanese gardens?”
“Beats me,” she said, popping the cork, then reaching into a cabinet for two glasses.
“Isn’t that sort of thing—wine selection—in your realm of expertise?”
With a wrinkling of her nose, she shook her head. “I only do cookies.”
Her statement caused apprehension to ripple through him. The path of least resistance was to let the matter slide. But, looking back on it, he’d also let warning signs slide with Tess, and look where that had landed him. The thought of a master chef like Sadie knowing nothing about wines was ludicrous.
“Look, we need to talk.” He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt rather thick.
“Okay…” She took a sip of her wine and then his. “Ready.” She grinned, creating a war within him. He barely knew her and yet something about her was magnetic, pulling him in. No matter how many inconsistencies he’d discovered in her behavior, he found himself wanting to move forward. Believing there had to be a logical explanation. One that maybe he wasn’t kitchen-savvy enough to have picked up on. “Well?”
Again he was at it with the throat clearing. “You, uh, know how earlier in my stay we talked about our rocky pasts? And how we appreciate truth?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Gimme that,” he said, reaching for one of the wine-glasses and taking a fortifying sip.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m in trouble?” she asked, her once-bright expression fading.
“You’re not in trouble,” he said. “I just—for me—need something cleared up.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“I took out the trash for you and—”
“Thank you.” She gave him a one-armed hug, brushing her soft, warm curves against him and making his task that much harder. “Jeez, could you be any sweeter?”
Could you be any tougher to confront? “Here’s the thing, Sadie. While taking out the trash, I came across cookie-dough wrappers.”
“And?”
“That’s it. You advertise homemade fresh-baked cookies every night, yet you just served fakes. What’s up with that?”
“It’s stuffy in here,” she said, topping up both their glasses. “Let’s sit outside.”
He followed her through the back door and into the scented night. The soft swish of automatic sprinklers on the lawn accompanied crickets, and in the dark forest the hoot owl was doing his thing.
In the gazebo, both of them sitting on thick floral-patterned cushions, Sarah said, “I see where you’re coming from on the cookie issue. I hate lies as much as you, but here’s the deal. I always keep a few helpful items on hand, in case of an emergency. Say a toilet overflows in one of the guest rooms and the time I would ordinarily take to bake is gobbled up by being a plumber’s assistant. Now, would it be better to not give the guests any bedtime snacks? Or tell a harmless white lie so that everyone can go to bed happy?”
“Sorry,” he said, hating that he’d turned into the kind of guy who jumped to conclusions. On the flip side, he loved how Sadie’s logical explanation set him at ease. “Makes perfect sense. I guess maybe I’m still overreacting to every little thing.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah said. “I totally understand.” More than anything, she wished she hadn’t needed the short walk to the gazebo to gather her confusing thoughts and come up with a plausible explanation as to why her truly fantastic chef of a sister would need store-bought cookies. Point of fact, Sadie would gnaw off her own fingers before she lowered herself to open a package of cookie dough. But Sarah had been in a bind and she’d taken the only escape she could think of.
Sadie, being Sadie, had mixed more than enough dough to last two whole weeks, let alone one weekend. But Sarah, being Sarah, had accidentally knocked the plastic tub off the counter. Not only had the tub cracked but cookie dough had splatted out the sides and all over the tile floor. The end result had been pounds of unsalvageable dough. Meaning that last night she’d made a mad dash to town for replacement dough.
At the moment—and maybe not ever—she couldn’t tell Shane the true reason for her fib. Because she loved her twin, Sarah would do anything within her power to ensure Sadie’s happiness and well-being. Too bad that meant lying like a rug every time her mouth was open. Her only option, in coming clean with Shane, was in attempting to explain part of her genuine past, so that he knew she was sincere in what she felt for him—whatever that happened to be.
“You sure?” he asked. “That you understand, that is? I don’t mean to be suspicious, it’s just that after—”
“Shhh.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Forget it. I have.”
He took her hand in his, and for the longest time they just sat there, drinking each other in. He was so strong, capable. His honesty was spellbinding. Which only made her own lies that much harder to bear.
“Despite our earlier agreement to try and control our feelings, may I kiss you?” Heath asked.
Throat tight, Sarah said in a raspy whisper, ignoring her twin’s opposition, which was raging through her head, “I’ve been hoping you would.”
“So then I could ditch the whole gentleman routine, go slightly caveman and take what I want?”
“Arghf,” she said, trying for a cavegirl grunt and ending up laughing in his arms. And then kissing, glorious kissing. His lips were strong yet pliant, working against hers with a slow, sensuous rhythm. By mutual consent, they took it to the next level with a potent sweep of their tongues.
Heath was the first to draw back, cupping her face in his hands and stroking the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “What have you done to me, woman?”
“Funny,” she said, pulling back slightly to take his hands, kissing his wrists, “but I was just thinking the same about you.”
“Guess that blows the take-our-time-getting-to-know-each-other decision all to hell.”
“Yeah.” Her single word, whispered hot and moist and sexy as she rested her forehead against his, only made him want her more. “That was pretty amazing.”
“Ditto.”
“So…what do you want to do now?”
“In terms of us?” He stole another kiss.
“Uh-huh. Think we ought to at least try behaving?”
“Probably.” He kissed her again. When that wasn’t enough, he slid his splayed fingers under the last remnants of her messy ponytail, urging her closer, deeper.
“Then how come what I’
d rather do is take this inside?”
Drawing back and framing her face with his hands, he asked, “You sure?”
Kissing his wrist, she nodded.
“I’m cool with it if you want to end it here—I mean, I’m not,” he added with a laugh, “but you know what I mean.”
“Uh-huh.” She kissed him. “I know exactly what you mean. I also know how much I want to throw away the past year and run as fast as I can toward exploring a future with you.”
Her words should have made him feel like a god.
Instead they pushed him deeper into the realm of pond scum. She was too good for him. She’d already been hurt. Why couldn’t he regain some semblance of control—at least until he was able to tell her the truth without jeopardizing Hale’s job? At which point they’d start from scratch, with nothing but the truth between them.
“It might be better to go slow—for you, I mean.” Though nothing could be worse for him. He’d tossed out the suggestion to be polite. If she agreed that they should cool things off, he might quite literally die from wanting.
She shook her head, kissing him again, drowning him in emotions he couldn’t label. Never had he wanted a woman more and never had he felt more like a hypocritical bastard about it. He had to cool this down. But how? Why? If she was into him as much as she claimed to be, then she’d understand how he hadn’t been able to refuse his brother’s request for help.
Right. But was he willing to take the risk of her never speaking to him again if she didn’t understand the whole connection? How they’d always been there for each other—no matter what. Heath couldn’t expect Sadie to understand the bond, since she wasn’t a twin. But he sure as hell wanted her to.
“Your room or mine?” she asked on the heels of a breathy mew.
Lord.
Back to cupping her face, he slid his fingers into the hair at her temples, telling himself he didn’t want her quite this bad. Didn’t have to have her more than his next breath. But even as he told himself all that, he was tipping her head to get a better, deeper, ever more intimate angle to kiss.
“Yours,” he somehow managed to say. “Fewer stairs.” More to the point, less space and time for him to change his mind. Less potentially incriminating evidence for her to inadvertently stumble upon. For example, his driver’s license and credit cards.
They were back to kissing, meaning he’d realized the time was long gone for backing out, taking the moral high road. He’d already jumped on the express train to hell, and the way it was going, it looked as though he’d enjoy the trip down.
As for the fallout from what happened when Sadie finally met the real him—he’d have to deal with that later. For the moment, he could only handle one crisis at a time. And, God help him, making love to Sadie had become priority one.
Chapter Ten
“I can’t wait much longer,” Heath said as he stopped midway across the dark dining room, clutching her to him. Sarah had to agree. “How much farther to your room?”
“Through the parlor, past the entry hall, through the game room, past the laundry room, down another hall, through the—”
“No good,” he said after another fiery kiss. “What’s closer?”
“Storage closet.” Taking his hand, she led him that way, yanking open the door and not even bothering with the overhead light.
“Mmm…good thinking,” he said, unbuttoning her blouse while continuing to kiss her.
“Hurry,” she said, getting their arms in a tangle in her mad rush to remove his starched white button-down. “Oh, my. You’re glorious,” she murmured, splaying her fingers across the muscular width of his chest. Save for a smattering of rough hair, his skin was warm and smooth. She pressed kisses onto the base of his throat, moving her lips to his shoulder while unbuttoning his fly.
“How can you tell? It’s pitch-black in here.”
“I just know,” she said, hitching her breath when he unfastened her bra, then drew a nipple into his mouth. Her hands at the back of his head, Sarah drew him closer, ignoring the cold bite of stainless-steel shelves against her shoulder blades.
How could something that felt so completely right be so wrong? But seriously, she and Shane—together—could lead to all manner of trouble. Her sister was her best friend. No way could she betray her. Standing here, panting for a man she hardly knew, even though she felt as if she’d always known him, Sarah realized they had to stop. She had to somehow remember she wasn’t here as herself but as Sadie.
She shivered.
“Cold?” Ever the gentleman, Heath pulled her shivering body against his.
She nodded, fighting the wall of confusion and frustration and hurt that was crushing her chest. “Um, Shane?”
“Yeah?” he asked in a wary tone.
“I’m sorry, seriously sorry, but I can’t do this. With that reviewer upstairs—” and my sister’s accusatory glare in mind “—I just can’t.”
His breathing ragged in her hair, he chuckled. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t near death from this development, but I’ll recover.” And to prove it, he stepped back and fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.
“I am sorry.”
He kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. Without a hint of anger, just bittersweet remorse. “No apologies. When the time is right, we’ll both know. Until then, we’ll cool it.”
“Thank you,” she said, crushing him in a hug. Yet again this man had proven himself honorable and trustworthy. Yes, chemistry sizzled between them, but their friendship was more important. Which only made the burden of sharing her true identity with him that much harder to handle.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks, almost as if through the darkness he could see the change in her mood.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Regrets?”
“Dozens. But I do think waiting is for the best.” On tiptoe, her hands behind his head again, she pulled him to her for another kiss—the only cure guaranteed to take her mind off her other troubles. Shane just had to understand the whole funky twin thing she shared with Sadie. If it weren’t for that there was no way she ever would have conned him like this. If only he were a twin himself, maybe then he could understand the bond. But since he wasn’t and would never know the sometimes weighty burden that kind of a relationship created, she could only pray he’d forgive her one day.
Believe her when she told him the truth and then swore that normally she was an honest woman.
COLD WATER BEATING his shoulders, which ached far more from guilt than from having rowed all morning, Heath closed his eyes.
Legs outstretched, palms flat against the shower wall, he fought to make sense of the previous thirty minutes. Maybe more to the point, why he’d been so weak as to ever have let that happen—especially when so much was at stake for his brother. But, no, it wasn’t fair to absorb all the blame. It wasn’t as if he’d been alone in that closet. Sadie had been a woman possessed, and he’d loved—or at least had wanted to love—every square inch of her.
Trouble was, he hadn’t had the right to.
On weekends he might be into extreme sports, but when it came to relationships, he was a rock-solid stand-up guy. A guy who could be trusted. Until now. With the one woman who’d somehow come to mean more to him than all his past lovers combined.
Which was why, when Sadie had seemed in such an all-fired hurry to get away from him after their near miss in the closet, he hadn’t objected. He’d blamed her rapid departure on things that didn’t matter. Hurt. Inn-related work that had to be done. Having to wash her hair. Any number of tasks his imagination stirred up to ensure her leaving hadn’t been personal.
Oh, he didn’t for a second believe she hadn’t enjoyed their heated kisses as much as he had. What he was starting to fear, however, was that for whatever reason she regretted them. As much as he’d wanted to go all the way, he was glad now they hadn’t. She was the kind of woman for whom he’d want their first time to be special. No
t such a freight train of desire that he hadn’t even seen it coming.
One minute he’d been kissing her, wanting her. The next he’d almost been inside her.
He thumped the heel of his hand against the tile wall.
Enough.
They’d stopped in time. His vow to Hale was still intact, and when the weekend was over, maybe, just maybe, he’d get a second chance with Sadie after he’d come clean about his lies.
They’d known each other barely twenty-four hours. It was understandable that after sharing something as mind-blowing as those kisses, she’d need time to process the situation. Lord knew he did.
Cutting the water, he slid open the glass door and reached for a fluffy white towel, thinking about how far out of his element he was. Sadie was the kind of woman who deserved careful wooing—not hot sex in a dark closet.
Oblivious to the lushness of the towel, the bathroom’s glowing chrome fittings and pristine white tiles, he dried, then half dressed in jeans and a white shirt. He didn’t bother with shoes. The other guests had been tucked in their beds for hours, and so the odds of being seen were next to nil.
Curious not just about Sadie’s whereabouts but about her mood, he wandered down the long hall that led toward the inn’s public zones, glancing into room after room. Finally finding her by a sliver of light that leaked under the kitchen door.
“There you are,” he said softly.
She stood at the counter, wearing loose white pajama bottoms and a skintight white tank. Her long, wet dusty-blond hair spiraled down her back, dampening the tank in spots and giving it a see-through effect that made him instantly hard.
So much for willpower.
One look was all it took to shoot his hands-off resolve all to hell. Especially the thought that she hadn’t been the only one needing a cold shower. “You’re gorgeous.”
Casting him an over-her-shoulder grin, she laughed. “I’m wearing pajamas—old ones.”
The Right Twin (Times Two Book 2) Page 11
