Natalie gasped. “You married Malcolm Tate? He’s divine.”
“Not Malcolm,” Harper said. “He has an identical twin brother. Nick.”
“How have I never heard that he had a twin?” Natalie asked. “You’d think I’d remember a detail like that.”
“Actually,” Emily said, “I think I do remember something about him. Didn’t he join the military?”
Sophie nodded as she picked up her glass of iced tea. “Oh, that’s right. He married Andrea Miller’s sister Melissa. I never could warm to her.”
“Have you been dating Nick long?” Emily asked.
Dating? Harper tucked her hair behind her ears. Dating wasn’t something she and Nick had indulged in at all.
“We met at Simone Parker’s masked ball.” She didn’t mention that she’d thought he was Malcolm that night...
“That was a great party,” Natalie said. “Still, that’s fairly quick to a wedding.”
Sophie sighed happily. “It must be true love if you knew so quickly. But why didn’t you mention you were seeing him?”
“Well,” Harper began, looking around at the women’s faces. Her gut said she could trust these women with the truth, but it wasn’t only her life that would be affected if she was wrong. When Nick’s custody case for Ellie was heard, if something leaked out that their marriage wasn’t real and his ex-wife’s lawyers used that against him, Nick and Ellie would be the losers. So she settled on a half-truth. “It was a bit of a whirlwind, and it sped up when I realized I was pregnant.”
Sophie squealed. “You’re pregnant, too? How fabulous!”
The others joined in the congratulations and asked questions about how far along she was and details of the pregnancy.
“There’s more,” Harper said.
“How much more can there be?” Natalie said with an expectant grin.
“I’m carrying twins.”
“Oh, my Lord,” Sophie said, putting a hand over her chest. “This is the best story I’ve heard in ages.”
The relief and gratitude at her friend’s simple acceptance was overwhelming, and Harper had to blink away the moisture seeping into her eyes. Now she regretted that she hadn’t shared the news with Sophie as it happened. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. It just all happened so fast that I haven’t had a chance to stop and think.”
“Are you happy?” Sophie asked, her gaze serious.
Harper smiled. “I am.” It was partly true. When she wasn’t worried about the details of how they’d make it work, or the fallout if they failed, she was filled with happiness about the babies. And getting to spend time with Nick was just a bonus.
“Then, that’s all that matters. Truly. Hang on,” Sophie said and waved a waiter over. “We need something to celebrate with. A bottle of your best nonalcoholic champagne, please.”
The waiter nodded, headed for the bar and quickly returned with a bottle and four sparkling glasses.
Once they were filled, Sophie lifted her glass into the air, and the other three women raised theirs to match. “To Harper,” she said. “And to Nick, and their marriage. And to their babies. I can’t wait to meet them!”
The other two women said, “To Harper,” and Harper had to pretend to sip because she knew she wouldn’t be able to drink anything with the ball of emotion lodged in her throat.
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.”
“Actually,” Emily said, her eyes dancing as she ran her fingers over the condensation on the side of her glass, “since we’re celebrating, I have something, too.”
“Really?” Sophie said and sucked in a breath, waiting.
Emily leaned in, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, Emily,” Sophie said and jumped up to hug her friend. “I’m so happy for you and Tom.”
Harper remembered Sophie telling her about Tom and Emily’s tragedy when they lost their child—it had almost destroyed their marriage. They’d only recently found their way back to each other, so the news they were expecting again was like a blessing from heaven, and Harper couldn’t have been happier for her.
Emily dabbed at the corner of her eye with her napkin. “Thank you. We’re very lucky, and we know it.”
“Do you know any details yet?” Natalie asked.
“We know it’s a little boy,” Emily said, laying a hand over her stomach, “and we’ve already decided to call him Jeremy Ryan Knox.”
Sophie lifted her glass again, and the others immediately followed. “To Emily and Tom, and to little Jeremy Ryan Knox.”
“Hear, hear,” Harper and Natalie said, and they all clinked glasses.
“Well, y’all know that Clay and I are expecting, so that’s three of us.” Sophie turned to Natalie. “So now it’s your turn. Can we toast a pregnancy for you, too? Make it four for four?”
Natalie coughed out a laugh. “Not a chance of that, I’m afraid. Colby and Lexie are keeping my hands far too full to contemplate another baby. Though there is something, and I’m really excited about it.”
“Okay, spill,” Emily said, still visibly glowing from her own news.
“Brandee Lawless asked me to design her wedding gown and the bridesmaids’ dresses. I’ve had a sneak peek at some of the details of Brandee and Shane’s wedding plans, and it’s going to be amazing. I’m so thrilled to be a part of it.”
“That’s fabulous news,” Sophie said, raising her glass for the third time. “To Natalie’s amazing designs!”
The others joined in, and then they fell into discussing the details of all three announcements over their lunch and another bottle of nonalcoholic champagne.
As Harper finished her last bite of salad, she pushed her plate aside and sat back to listen to these amazing women talk. She’d never had a wide social circle, and making new friends hadn’t felt like a priority since she’d moved to Royal a couple of years ago, but she could see that might have been an oversight. And now—when the structure of her life was changing in so many ways—would be a good time to address that, so she made herself a promise to stay in touch.
Once their plates were cleared, Emily said, “Has anyone heard anything about Maverick? He doesn’t seem to have attacked anyone lately.”
“That’s a good point,” Natalie said. “He was really active for months and months, but I haven’t heard anything since he targeted Clay.”
Harper ran her hand through her hair, wishing she could be optimistic. But harassment campaigns like this were never that simple. “I don’t know anything about Maverick, but, working as a lawyer back home, I saw a couple of similar cases and how things shaped up once the perpetrator was caught. Sometimes the pattern of the attacks is uneven because of factors outside the blackmailer’s control. Or they’re building up for a bigger attack. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think we should let our guard down just yet.”
Sophie scowled. “Someone needs to stop that man.”
Only last month, the anonymous blackmailer who had been targeting residents of Royal had planted a series of fake news stories online about Everest, Clay’s business. Even before Sophie and Clay had been an item, Sophie had worked at Everest as Clay’s secretary, so she’d taken Maverick’s actions personally. And a few months before that he’d sent Emily some photos to make her believe her estranged husband had another secret family. Luckily they’d worked their way through it and were stronger than ever, but there was no love lost for Maverick at their table. Or anywhere in Royal, for that matter.
“I was talking to Sheriff Battle yesterday, and he said there are some good people working on discovering Maverick’s identity,” Emily said. “As soon as they know who he is, they can arrest him.”
Sophie blew out a tightly controlled breath. “Either way, let’s hope he’s out of our lives before he can hurt anyone
else.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Emily said and took another sip from her glass.
Natalie pushed her chair back and put her handbag on her lap. “Hey, sorry to eat and run, but I have to get going.”
“No problem,” Sophie said. “You have so much on your plate right now.”
They all said their goodbyes, and once the three remaining women had settled back in their seats, Sophie reached over and laid a hand on Harper’s arm. “Honey, I’m so pleased about all your news. But—how do I say this?”
Harper gave her a reassuring smile. She’d been expecting an extra question or two after the news settled in. “Just say it. I won’t be offended.”
“For a newlywed who’s carrying her husband’s babies, you look a little...subdued. Is everything okay?”
Sophie’s eyes were kind, and Harper knew her heart was in the right place. Should she confide in her? She didn’t have anyone outside the situation to talk it through with—even her mother had been concerned on the phone about whether she’d made the right choice, so she hadn’t wanted to worry her more. Perhaps telling Sophie—heck, even saying it out loud—would help her sort through her thoughts.
Since you never knew who was listening at the clubhouse, she lowered her voice. “I’m a little worried about Nick.”
Sophie leaned in, her voice a little above a whisper. “He didn’t want to get married?”
“It was his idea. He’s totally committed to the marriage.” She took a sip of her drink, and the other two women waited. “He developed PTSD after his time in the military, and while he’s wrestling with that, he’s involved in a custody case over his little girl, Ellie, and now to have two new babies on the way and a new marriage... I just wonder if it’s all too much.” She thought of the look on his face when he’d woken from the nightmare and realized she was there. “And I have no idea how to help him.”
Emily opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again, her brows drawing together, and then she sucked in a breath as she leaned forward. “I hope you won’t mind me butting in since I don’t know you that well and I know nothing about PTSD, but I do know something about emotional pain and how it affects a marriage.”
Emily hesitated, waiting for encouragement, so Harper said, “You’re not butting in at all. I’d appreciate your thoughts.”
“After our little boy died, grief tore my marriage to Tom apart. And we let it. If I could have that time over, I’d do something to not let sleeping dogs lie. As I said, I don’t know much about your situation, but I’m now a big advocate for trying something. Anything.”
The hairs on the back of Harper’s neck stood up. Try something. The idea was so simple, and so complex, and so right. It was as if she’d turned the headlights on at night—she could see a little of the way. And a little was enough for now. All she had to do was figure out what to try first, and she was good at that—research, weighing options and making decisions. She could do this. Help Nick.
“Thank you,” Harper said, gripping Emily’s hand in hers. “I think that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”
“And in the meantime,” Sophie said brightly, “we should order another bottle of bubbles. Between the three of us, we have four babies on the way!”
Harper laughed. “You’re right. We’ll be Royal’s own baby boom.”
“To us!” Emily said.
* * *
When Harper’s car pulled into his driveway after work on Monday, Nick was ready. Living as something of a hermit, he’d fallen into a few bad habits, and he realized now that he had a wife, he’d have to raise his game. After an afternoon session in his home gym, he’d usually shower, throw on the first pair of shorts his hand fell on and then order some takeout.
Today, though, he’d found an ironed pair of cargoes and a T-shirt and even managed to use a comb on his hair instead of simply running his fingers through it. And to really ensure he was turning over a new leaf, he’d made a start on chopping vegetables for a stir-fry.
All in all, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. Perhaps he could pull off this husband thing.
Well, except for the nightmares and not being able to share a bed. And the constant, all-pervading fear that he was going to let Harper down the way he’d let down Ellie and the men who’d died under his command. And the blackness that surrounded him more often than not, and the constant fight not to let it seep into his relationship with Harper...
Gut churning and hands trembling, he swore and dropped the paring knife onto the board.
When he felt the blackness descending, all he could think was that he’d done the wrong thing by dragging Harper into his world. He should have let her go back to Connecticut, where she’d have her mother and be unsullied by his issues. The idea had been haunting him badly today, which was why he’d made a special effort to be the model husband when she arrived home.
The internal door that led from the garage opened and Harper appeared, her hair swinging around her shoulders as she turned to close the door behind her. He took in her long legs in her knee-length charcoal skirt and how her eyes softened when she saw him, and his heart surged. He knew he couldn’t give her up. There was a radiance about her, soul-deep, and he couldn’t look away. Now that she was his wife, he’d work as hard as he could, do whatever it took, to keep her in his life.
“Welcome home,” he said as he reached for her briefcase.
As she handed the case over, she smiled. “If this is marriage, I think I could get used to it.”
“It gets better—I’ve made a start on dinner,” he said, depositing her bag on the coffee table and heading back to the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Actually, there’s something I want to do, but I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
He shrugged and dug his hands in his pockets. “We’re still getting to know each other’s routines, so it’s probably best at this stage that we’re up front.”
“Okay, but this isn’t about routines.” With a rare display of nervous energy, she picked up an apple from a bowl on the counter and rolled it from hand to hand, then dropped it back in the bowl. “In fact, it’s pretty random.”
Surprises weren’t something he normally liked, but he was already enjoying this one—or more precisely, he was enjoying watching Harper deliver it. He rocked back on his heels. “Now you have me intrigued. Tell me.”
“I heard about this dog today,” she said in a rush. “His name is Frank, and he’s in a pretty desperate situation.” She took Nick’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I think we need to rescue him.”
His brows shot up of their own accord. A dog? That had been the last thing he’d expected his wife to say. And despite the childhood dogs she’d mentioned to Ellie, she’d struck him more as a cat person. He, on the other hand, was a dog person through and through, and if a dog was in trouble, he was ready to help.
“What sort of rescue?” he said, thinking through the logistics. “Will we need bolt cutters and grappling hooks?”
She chuckled. “You know, you can take the man out of the SEALs, but... It’s nothing that drastic. Can we do it?”
“Tell me a bit more about the dog and its situation.”
She started for the steps and said over her shoulder, “How about I tell you in the car?”
Ah, there was his Harper. She might not be a dog person, but she was a good negotiator. In fact, she seemed to have just undercut the negotiations.
He planted his feet shoulder-width apart and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. She wasn’t the only one with negotiating experience.
After a few beats, she retraced her steps and stopped in front of him. “Nick?”
He dropped his hands and grinned. “Sure, let’s go take a look.”
She leaned into him and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank
you.”
Unable to resist with her pressed against him, he hugged her tight, just for a few moments, before dragging himself back. The feel of her curves against him was dangerous. It had the power to make him forget they’d agreed to no lovemaking, at least until his nightmares were under control.
As he tried to catch his breath—and his train of thought—he said, “You need to get changed first?”
She glanced down at her silk blouse and knee-length skirt, so he added, “I’m not sure where we’re heading, but if a dog needs to be rescued you’ll probably want to wear clothes that you can get dirty.”
Her forehead creased for a millisecond then cleared. “Good point.”
She disappeared down the hall, and he took the couple of minutes before she reappeared in a T-shirt and loose pants to put the vegetables back in the fridge. “Ready,” she said.
He looked at the way the pants fell, accentuating her long lines and curves, and was sorry they were leaving the house. But this appeared important to her, so he shook it off, grabbed his wallet and keys, and they set off.
Once they were in the car, he backed out and swung the wheel around to head down the street. “Where am I driving?”
“The Royal Safe Haven Animal Shelter.”
An animal shelter? He’d been thinking he might need to do the rescue part and take the dog to a shelter. If they were starting at a shelter...
“Harper,” he asked mildly, “are we adopting a dog?”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her fingers on her thighs. “Maybe?”
“We’re headed for a shelter. What other option is there?”
“We could foster him until we find him a home. Or maybe we could sponsor him. Or we’ll find some other way to save him. It’s just that I heard about Frank today and knew we had to do something.”
Frank. Good, solid name for a dog. “What did you hear?”
“I don’t know much, so it might be better to wait until the shelter manager explains his story.” Her voice was confident, upbeat and probably would have convinced a jury.
Tempted by the Wrong Twin Page 9
