The Right Twin (Times Two Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “What brought on that enigmatic smile?” he asked, back in pack-mule mode as he picked up his bags to head to the next stall.

  “Wish I could tell you, but it’s strictly confidential.”

  “In that case, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist you tell me or else…”

  “Or else what?” she asked over her shoulder, telling herself—not very convincingly—that he wasn’t the hottest man she’d ever seen.

  “I’ll go on strike.”

  “Leaving me to carry all this on my own?”

  He shrugged. “You’re the one calling the shots.”

  “All right, suppose I explain what brought on that smile? What do I get in return?”

  “Let’s see…I could offer to take you to lunch, but seeing how you’re due back at the inn, I suppose that’s out.”

  “Yep.” If only he knew how tempting that offer truly was. Especially seeing that how she’d only just barely recovered from breakfast. At least a quick call to Helga had been rewarding: Bubbka was feeling much better, and that was why Sarah had needed to rush to the market. To fill Helga’s grocery list. Even better, the cleaning staff was already hard at work on the rooms, and Coco would be in by noon to help with the lunch service. Meaning the rest of the day should be an easy coast until Sadie got home. “What else you got to deal with, mister?”

  “There’s always cash,” he said with a hopeful grin.

  “Nope. The inn’s crazy popular.” At least it would continue to be if she could rein in her attraction sufficiently to keep her sister act afloat. With a reviewer on the premises, it was more important than ever that Sarah maintain a convincing front.

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh. “Well, I guess that only leaves one option.”

  “And that would be?” Was it a bad sign that the closer he came, paper bags crinkling between them, the more turned on she was? The more her heart pounded, dying for another kiss. So much for her plan to ditch the attraction. Let’s face it—when it came to denying herself Shane Peters, she was as hopeless as she would have been attempting to prepare the meal Helga had planned for lunch.

  Good thing there was a Sonic drive-in nearby, because in the event Helga bailed at the last minute, Sarah wouldn’t have enough willpower to give up kissing simply in order to cook.

  “THIS HAS BEEN FUN,” Heath said on the way back to the inn from the passenger side of Sarah’s car. “Do this often?”

  “Um, all the time. Freshest ingredients make the best meals.”

  “What’s on the menu today?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  He nodded, praying that whatever she prepared for lunch would turn out a damn sight better than those leaden pancakes. Fighting a fresh round of guilt for having kept her up late the night before and feeling honor-bound to at least try to do a good job for his brother, Heath cleared his throat and asked, “What happened with breakfast?”

  “What do you mean?” Her hasty glance away from the road looked stricken. “Everyone seemed to enjoy their meals.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Shane? What do you know that I don’t?” Deep concern shone in every nuance of her face. Instantly, for even bringing up the subject, he felt about as loyal to her as a bag of dirt.

  What about your twin? his conscience scoffed. Remember him? The guy you’ve been intimately acquainted with for all but the past couple days of your life?

  “Shane? Come on, tell me.”

  “Sadie, hon.” He reached for her free hand, giving her a squeeze. “You know I adore you, right?”

  “Oh, no. I have a bad feeling about what’s coming next. Shane—” She swerved off the road into an abandoned service station lot. With the engine softly idling, she said, “Please, tell me you think the reviewer’s not giving the inn less than five spoons. I mean, if you think there’s even the slightest chance she wasn’t completely satisfied with her meal, I need to talk to her. Explain that if there’s anything she’s experienced this weekend that she might’ve found less than exemplary, it’s not normal. Usually this place is run with blow-your-mind efficiency.”

  “So—and please don’t take this wrong—what’s happened this weekend that’s out of the ordinary?” He brushed her wrist with her thumb. “Because in isolated spots, you seem nothing like the woman that dozens of glowing recommendations describe you as.”

  “I’ve tried.” Her sniffle broke his heart. “I’ve really, really tried. Everyone seemed satisfied with breakfast. What did you think was wrong?”

  Everything! “Well…Not to be overly critical, but the pancakes were a smidge tough.”

  “Tough?”

  “Yeah. But,” he lied through the same teeth those tough-as-leather discs had damn near cracked, “just a smidge.”

  “What else was wrong? Because the plates looked beautiful. I made all those orange peel and cherry garnishes and—” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, unfastening his seat belt and then hers, to awkwardly pull her into his arms.

  “It’s just that a great review means so much, especially from Zodor’s. I’ve been out of my mind with worry over whether or not their reviewer would show. And then last night, when she finally checked in, I tried so hard to impress her. Sure, I was tired this morning, but not enough so that I didn’t feel capable of doing my best.” Inching back from him, she wrung her hands on her lap.

  The same hands that hours earlier had skimmed along his chest. Wasting time she probably should have spent in the kitchen, instead of allowing him to monopolize her, er, talents.

  Silent tears flowed.

  “Oh, hon…” Could he be a bigger ass for even bringing up the subject? Of course her pancakes had been awful, but he was entirely to blame. Any sane person—especially a sane guy—would agree. “No more tears, okay? Of course you’re getting five spoons. The pancakes weren’t that bad, and if I hadn’t hogged all your time this morning, I’m sure there never even would’ve been an issue. I’d bet big bucks that woman from Zodor’s has been thrilled with everything you’ve prepared.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said with a sniffling nod. “So you really don’t think she’ll hold breakfast against me?”

  “Not a chance.” And as for the store-bought rolls, he’d ignore those, too.

  “Thank you,” she said before launching into a fresh batch of tears.

  “Now what’s wrong?”

  “N-nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m just so relieved. You have no idea the kind of stress I’ve been under with that woman here.”

  “Look,” he said, softly brushing back her hair from her forehead. “You have to know I never in my wildest dreams imagined this weekend would turn out the way it has. I’m sorry if my being here and wanting to spend time with you has interrupted your ability to work.”

  She nodded, and as he lowered his hand, cupping her cheek, she leaned into his touch.

  “At best, I figured on walking away with a few extra pounds from your great cooking. At worst, a mild case of indigestion. What I got is…” He lowered his hand again to reach for hers, interlocking their fingers. “Pretty amazing.”

  “I agree,” she said. “And now that the review will finally be done, maybe I can take some time off. Get to know you without the inn’s constant pressures hanging over my head.”

  “That’s a nice thought, but how are you going to have time later? Especially when all those silver spoons have the potential to double your business?”

  “I, um…” She bowed her head. “I’ll figure something out.” Glancing away from him, nibbling her lower lip, she added, “It probably won’t be as hard as you think. And what about you? With you working so much, getting together could be rough.”

  “I, uh, wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re the real problem—what with you being so tied down.”

  “Tell you what,” she said, casting him a brilliant smile and then taking back her hand to swipe at the few tears that remained. “For the moment, let’s not dwell on
problems but on tons of future possibilities.”

  “Great plan.” He kissed her. Kissed her with all the hope that was swelling in him for that bright future she so loved to discuss. The same future that, when he thought about coming clean with her as to his true identity, made Heath queasy as hell.

  “I TOLD YOU,” MRS. YOUNG said, fork poised at her grinning mouth. For their last meal of the long weekend, all the guests shared one large, elegantly dressed round table. “Our Sadie has split cooking personalities. Now tell me, Gretchen, have you ever in your life tasted carré d’agneau à la provençale done more divinely?”

  “It’s fantastic,” the brunette agreed, as did the rest of the crew.

  “Mr. Peters?” the widow probed. “What do you think? Have you ever tasted a better dish?”

  “No, ma’am.” Especially since he wasn’t even quite sure what the woman had just said.

  “And the gratin d’épinards aux champignons is an exceptional accompaniment,” said Mrs. Standridge, apparently not to be outdone by the widow’s lavish praise.

  “Mr. Peters?” the widow asked again. “What do you think?”

  “Uh-huh.” Especially since now he wasn’t quite sure what either woman had said. The only thing that mattered was that all three gals seemed pleased. As did the men. Whew.

  The tasty meal came as a huge relief after having already, in a sense, promised Sadie her spoons. Now that he knew without a doubt the threat of being reviewed—plus his own distraction—was the sole cause of her cooking anxiety, he could rest easy, knowing his brother’s reputation would be safe. The Blueberry Inn would receive the highest rating.

  “Don’t you find it odd, though,” Mrs. Helsing asked, “that one meal is to die for and the next can be less than perfect?”

  “In all our travels,” Mrs. Standridge said, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The especially curious thing is that when our hostess shines, it’s to such a wondrous degree. I find myself not even caring what happened with the previous meal.”

  “Well said,” murmured her husband. “Shall we all meet here again next year, in the hopes our hostess has worked out her few remaining kinks?”

  At the word kink, Heath nearly choked on his latest mouthful. How many different ways had he imagined he and Sadie would one day make love? A coughing streak left him fighting for air.

  Mrs. Young thumped his back. “Are you all right, Mr. Peters? Are you breathing?”

  Sort of.

  He nodded. “I—I’m good.”

  “That’s a relief. Ours wouldn’t be much in the way of last-day celebrations if we were to lose a fellow traveler.”

  The general consensus was that everyone was relieved he was alive. More specifically, if Heath had to hazard a guess primarily they were relieved to not have an interruption to their meal.

  “Not to change the subject,” Mrs. Helsing said, “but have any of you been fortunate enough to see the Broadway production of The Lion King? I was just talking to my daughter this morning and she…”

  Thrilled to have the spotlight off him—which was to say, off his brother—Heath used his navy napkin to wipe sweat from his upper lip. Would this gig ever end?

  Yeah, but then what? How would he begin to tell Sadie the truth? After what’d happened to him before, he’d sworn no relationship he entered into would be less than one hundred percent honest. Yet what was he doing?

  Sadie was a wonderful woman. He owed her so much better than the half-truths she was currently getting.

  So why not come clean with her now? Why not storm the kitchen, drag her out to the gazebo or up to his room and tell her everything? Never under ordinary circumstances would he have played such a dirty trick. But his twin brother had been in a bind and—

  No. He couldn’t come clean with her now, because if her fury happened to make its way to Hale’s boss, his brother could be fired. No matter how badly Heath’s gut churned with guilt, he had to stay mum as to his true identity a while longer—at least until Sadie was in a great mood because of her awesome five-spoons review. After that, maybe she’d view the switch as funny—and not deceitful at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Your lunch was incredible.”

  “Thanks.” Though Sarah eagerly stepped into Heath’s outstretched arms, basking in the glow of the compliment, his kind words did little to ease the tension that knotted her shoulders. They were blessedly alone in the dining room—at least for the moment. Helga and Coco were still in the kitchen, cleaning up. Which was probably where she should be, too, but she couldn’t tear herself away from him. Not quite yet. Not since it’d occurred to her that in a few hours, on the off chance Sadie returned before he departed, there’d be some major explaining to do.

  “Oh,” he said with a relaxed laugh, “trust me, after that meal, I’m the one owing you thanks. I don’t know how you put that together in such a short time, but I’m in awe. Your five spoons are well deserved.”

  Not really, but whew. At least the inn’s reputation was intact. As for her personal life after telling Shane the truth…

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You seem down.”

  “Just tired,” she said. Which, along with a few dozen other issues, happened to be the truth. Afraid of being caught by the reviewer in Shane’s hold, Sarah stepped back, putting her hands to her forehead. “No offense, but I’ll be glad when this weekend’s over.”

  “I don’t blame you. But you know, I was thinking…Seeing how back in St. Louis I’m the boss and there’s really nothing pressing I have to be back for, how about we take tonight to—”

  On her tiptoes, she stopped him short of asking if he could stay the night. If this had truly been her inn, she’d have suggested he stay the week, but with her sister due home soon, the party was waaay over. “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love nothing better than for you to hang out longer, but…”

  His eyes narrowed. “There something you’re not telling me?”

  “Like what?” A nervous giggle escaped.

  “Oh, say, like everything we’ve shared was fun but ultimately a mistake? One you’re now trying to graciously extricate yourself from?”

  “No way,” she said, hands to his chest, stealing another kiss. “Trust me, this has nothing to do with you and everything with me. My, um, sister’s due any minute for a visit, and—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d love meeting her.”

  “Any other time, that’d be great, but…” She glanced over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “She’s going through a really bad time. Um, man troubles. She’s coming here to avoid any and all men and basically spend her week trashing anything with a penis, so you can see where this might not be the best time for you to meet. Especially with me being so blissfully happy.”

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “About the penises?”

  “No,” he said with a playful growl, tugging her back into his arms. “About you being blissful.”

  “Of course I was serious about that. In case the past forty-eight hours didn’t give you the message, I’m just as stunned by what’s happened between us as you are. But along with that, I’m ecstatic—and so much looking forward to spending every spare second getting to know you better. Just not next week.”

  “Understood. And not a problem,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “But once your sister leaves, I’ll be back. Often. And then—”

  “No.” So he couldn’t see the stricken look on her face, she gave him an ultratight hug, hiding her horrified expression against his chest. “Let me come to you. I’ve been dying for time away from here. Plus, we can go to the zoo.” Where we’ll both be nice and relaxed and in a public place, so there won’t be much yelling when I break the truth to you. It was odd not even knowing what Shane was like when he was upset, but she did know the biggies. Like he was the most kind, caring and sexy man ever. Not knowing his every personality quirk was exciting. Like something to look forward to. A big present to slowly unwrap.

&n
bsp; “Oo-kay.” His flat expression was unreadable.

  “Great,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Then it’s settled. Next weekend’s at your place.”

  Cupping her cheeks, tilting her gaze to meet his, he asked, “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want me here?”

  “Oh, no.” Kiss, kiss. “I—I can see how it might look that way, but you have to know nothing could be further from the truth. I adore you. Can’t wait to spend more time with you. It’s just that—”

  “At the moment, the timing couldn’t be more wrong?”

  “Exactly. So you understand?”

  “Totally. Come here.” Hand on the back of her head, he urged her lips to his, telling her not with words but with feeling how much he truly did understand. Which should have made her feel better. For today at least—shoot, for the whole week—she was home free.

  Sure, but what then?

  How would she break it to Shane that most of what he thought he knew about her was a lie? What if he was the domestic type who enjoyed plenty of home-cooked meals? What if he was attracted to that in her? Or, rather, Sadie? What if he hated driven corporate types like the person Sarah actually was? What if once he learned the truth, he never spoke to her again?

  “I DON’T WANT YOU TO GO,” Sarah said a short while later that afternoon, sitting cross-legged on the foot of Shane’s bed, watching him pack. On her head was the long-billed fishing cap he’d loaned her during their time on the lake.

  There were no doubt a cajillion inn-related tasks that needed completing, a million more details having to do with her own packing. Yet here she sat, yearning for a few more stolen minutes with this man who, if only she could find the courage to tell him the truth, she could see again tonight. She had a St. Louis condo. They could order takeout and rent movies or talk or go to a park and just stroll holding hands. They could do all of that, that is, if right now, this very second, she told him the truth. Honesty was always the best policy, and if she was straight with him before Sadie even got here, surely he’d see she’d never meant him harm.