A Tempting Proposal

by Dara Girard

  “Just for a couple of hours.”

  James waved his hands. “No. Absolutely not.”

  Jackson took off his shirt. “Dinner’s almost over anyway.”

  “No.”

  He held the shirt out to him. “Otherwise I’m walking out of here. I mean it,” he added when James didn’t move.

  James swore. He knew his brother would. When he felt trapped, Jackson’s first instinct was to run. “All right,” James said, unbuttoning his own shirt, “but this is the first and last time I’ll ever do this for you.”

  Jackson smiled. “Thanks.”

  James glared at him. “Save your thanks for later, I haven’t pulled it off yet.”

  Chapter 3

  The other one.

  Ava knew the moment the vacant seat beside her was taken that its new occupant was ‘the other one’. That’s how she’d gotten used to thinking of James Fortune. While Jackson radiated light and energy, James radiated a more subtle heat.

  She didn’t know why he always made her feel too warm and uneasy. She never felt comfortable around him. She rarely felt comfortable around anyone, preferring the sight of a computer screen, microscopic organisms or a book to people, but he put her on edge in a way no one had before. He made her nervous. She couldn’t understand why. She wasn’t afraid, few things frightened her, and if she planned to marry into the Fortune family she’d have to be strong, but he still put her off-guard.

  Jackson was easy to play with, fun, simple to read. She’d navigated their relationship by approaching Edgar first and getting into his good graces before she orchestrated her meeting with Jackson. She’d even made sure that Edgar thought the marriage arrangement had been his idea.

  Such a strategy would be harder to pull off with James, but not impossible. He was just more…something she couldn’t fathom and had no interest in figuring out. She had to marry Jackson for her plan to work. So she would wait and see what their next move would be.

  As identical twins there was nothing about him that should have bothered her. He and Jackson shared the same tall, powerful physique reminiscent of the ancient Douglas fir tree she’d seen as a child growing up in Vancouver, British Columbia. She’d been amazed by their size and history and since then had been drawn to trees, hiding in them when she wanted to get away from her lonely days at home and school. James, however, would be no sanctuary. He was like a tree occupied by a black bear.

  He and Jackson both had elegant, clean shaven features and even white teeth that contrasted with their smooth brown skin in an attractive way.

  But that’s where the similarities ended. In appearance they were identical, in personality and style they couldn’t be more different. Jackson preferred loud, bold colors like the purple shirt he wore under his dark blue jacket with matching purple lapels, cotton slacks and shoes; James, in contrast, wore grey trousers matching his jacket and a simple white shirt. Of course now he didn’t, since he was wearing his brother’s clothes.

  Ava had to tap down a wave of anger. What game were they playing? James had slipped into his brother’s role well, returning to the table with a wide smile and making the guests laugh at a joke she’d heard Jackson make many times before, but she couldn’t be fooled because James had given himself away. It was a small simple act no one else would easily notice, but it was something she’d used to distinguish them.

  When James and Jackson had returned from the washroom to take a seat at the table, Ava watched as James noticed his younger brother. Their younger brother Randolph, who everyone called Rudy, had Down syndrome and although he had a mild form, earning a university degree and running his own business, he still had triggers that could upset him and James was fiercely protective.

  That evening, Rudy had noticed his brothers’ long absence from the table and that had upset him. Although his mother and stepfather tried to assure him, his mood grew more anxious and he wouldn’t eat.

  When they returned to the table that’s when she saw it— Jackson took his seat (as James) without looking at anyone else, while James (as Jackson) quickly surveyed the mood of the table, saw Rudy’s expression and paused. He took a moment and bent down next to his brother, said something that made his brother smile before he gently rubbed Rudy’s cheek with his knuckles. It was a tender action she’d seen James do before and always seemed to have a calming affect on Rudy. His smile widened and James looked at his mother sending her a silent message before he took the seat next to Ava.

  In those few seconds, he’d given himself away by doing something Jackson never did—comfort his brother and assuring his mother. Ava took a sip of her white wine, resisting the urge to dump it over his head and demand to know what he was up to. Were they trying to humiliate her? Did they think this upcoming wedding was a joke?

  He nudged her with his elbow and said something that Jackson would say, in the cocky, funny way Jackson would say it. Ava didn’t really pay attention because she knew it didn’t matter. She did what was expected and smiled at him; he smiled in return. She held his gaze a lot longer than she should have but was unable, or unwilling, to look away, wondering if he could bear the full force of her gaze.

  For a moment, a vulnerable hesitancy entered his brown gaze, and her grin widened a fraction in triumph. You idiot. Your eyes aren’t right. What are you trying to pull?

  Jackson’s gaze was more carefree, more inviting, James’s were too serious. He couldn’t smile enough to take that sheen away.

  But before she could bask in her small victory his eyes darkened with a glint of interest that made her grin fade as a wave of heat swept through her body. At first it felt faint then grew more intense. It was a feeling she never felt with Jackson and she wondered if his heated gaze reflected James’s true interest or if it was part of the role he was playing.

  If he thought this was how Jackson felt, he was doing it wrong, because Jackson never looked at her like that. He never made her feel as if he was marrying her for any other reason than to make his stepfather happy and for the company. Ava pulled her gaze away from his and silently seethed, hating her physical response to him. She’d wanted him to be the first to look away, but she’d get him back another way. She wouldn’t let the Fortune brothers make a fool of her.

  Chapter 4

  “Is something the matter?” Flo asked her husband as she softly closed the door to their master bedroom. She was tired but happy after a long day and still full from the food she’d eaten at the rehearsal dinner.

  She’d finished checking to make sure Rudy was safely tucked in bed and now found Edgar sitting on the side of their large platform bed with an unlit cigar in his hand. He usually did so when he was worried about something. Even in repose he looked ready to fight. He was a man of average height with a thick, muscular build, belying his advanced years, and skin the color of roasted almonds.

  “Did Jackson seem different to you?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Different how?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. At the wedding rehearsal he flubbed a few lines and at the rehearsal dinner… At first he seemed like he didn’t want to be there and then he did.”

  “And why is that a problem?” Flo asked with a soft smile. “I think the reality of what he’s doing is settling in.”

  Edgar’s voice remained grim. “As long as that’s all it is.”

  She sat down beside him but not close enough to touch. “He will not disappoint us.”

  Edgar sent her a dismissive glance before looking away. “You sound certain.”

  “I am. There will be a wedding tomorrow. I know my boys.”

  She tenderly touched his hand and he felt a moment of guilt, remembering the real reason why he’d married her. It wasn’t for her soft, pretty features that age had been kind to, or her pleasing manner, which still gave him comfort in a way that surprised him. Few people could ease his bad mood the way she could.

  At times he wondered if he’d made up for the selfish reason he’d asked her to be his wife. He�
�d had so much to prove and gain back then and now, so much to lose. That was the problem with years, intangible things like respect, dignity, and ones reputation, mattered more.

  He’d raised his stepsons by instilling a tradition of loyalty that he never had. His father had been a useless plumber who’d managed to sleep with half of the housewives in the neighborhood, and rumored to have knocked up two before he was killed in a hit-and-run on his way home from a church bible study. But his father had left him with a love of boxing, which he’d instilled in him after starting him in the sport at the age of five, and a hunger to be somebody, because his father showed him that being a nobody was for punks.

  His mother’s brother, Uncle Frank, a barrel-chested man with an ability to inhale a cigarette and turn it into ash within minutes, had taken pity on them and given them a place to stay, begrudgingly, reminding them every moment he could that Edgar and his sister, and their father, had ruined their mother’s life. How she’d been the smartest in the family and would have been the first to graduate from college if their father hadn’t entered her life and sweet talked her into running off with him.

  While he berated their very existence he also used them to his benefit, catching the eye of a wealthy woman at church who thought his care for his widowed sister and her children meant that he was a good man. He milked her sympathy into marriage, moving their entire family into her house, where he managed to work as little as possible, pretending he was helping his sister doing charity work while he lived off his wife’s sense of obligation and Christian duty until she died.

  From his uncle he learned the power of appearance and promised himself that he wouldn’t be anybody’s burden.

  Edgar worked to prove his uncle wrong. He wasn’t his father. He wasn’t like any of them. He got his degree, in a field of study his uncle couldn’t understand, bought his mother a house and even paid for his uncle’s care until his death. Not that the bastard ever thanked him for it. He learned, on his own, what being a man was. What it took to survive in this world and gain respect.

  And he’d passed that knowledge down. Now, more than ever, he needed to see it come to fruition. BioMed Solutions, despite their global market and consistent business, had nearly run out of money twice due to overexpansion and costly, futile research that went nowhere. With Jackson’s help he had been able to restructure the company and James had tightened the spending in R&D and their profits had grown again. He’d made a good investment in them.

  He’d seen their potential early but never thought they would be this useful to him. Now the next piece was taking BioMed Solutions to the next level. Ava Hughes’s new product could take them beyond their competitors in a way that would last for generations. He needed this wedding to go without a hitch. He stared at the ground, thinking of his uncle. He wanted to achieve a level of success that would continue to make the old bastard turn in his grave.

  Chapter 5

  This was not what he’d expected.

  James ran a hand down his face, wondering how he’d ended up in Ava’s apartment. No, he knew how he’d gotten there he just couldn’t believe he hadn’t managed to come up with an excuse to get out of it. He’d played Jackson long enough and now had entered dangerous territory.

  He closed his eyes and reimagined the scene in the men’s room in the restaurant. He should have taken Jackson’s shirt and thrown it back at him. He should have forced him to get through the evening and said they’d talk about it later. Maybe he should have bribed him. His brother loved classic cars. He could have said he’d buy him one. Instead, he’d listen to him and now he was sitting on a couch that felt as comfortable as a cement block. Or maybe that was just how he was feeling, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

  He pounded his fist on the cushion and swore when pain shot through his hand. No, it was the couch. It was hard as stone. He lifted the fitted sofa cover to see what it was made out of and paused when he saw stacks of hardcover books—some textbooks, some coffee table books. What the heck?

  James crouched down and lifted the cover higher just to make sure. They were books alright, but were they real? He poked a spine with his forefinger surprised when it shifted. They were actually real books not fakes fused together. Who makes furniture out of books? Did his brother know about this?

  “Do you want anything to eat?” Ava called out to him from the kitchen where the smell of coffee was filling the air.

  James gently tried to put the book back in place, but failed. “No, I’m fine.” He let the sofa cover fall and sat back on the couch, wincing when he sat down too hard. At least he knew one thing; Ava didn’t expect him to get comfortable.

  Ava hummed with malicious pleasure as she prepared coffee. She knew James was sweating in the other room and she planned to enjoy every second of it. She’d almost laughed at the expression of shock on his face when she’d told him to drive her home after dinner had ended and people started to leave.

  “I said I would what?” he said, while helping her put on her coat.

  “Drive me home.” She smiled up at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Yes, of course.” He looked towards Jackson who was talking to Flo. “Let me just—”

  Ava looped her arm through his, trapping him. She wouldn’t let him get away and switch places again. She’d make him pay a little for his deception. “They’ll be fine.”

  “I know but—”

  She led him towards the exit before he could catch his brother’s attention. “We’ve already said our goodbyes.”

  “But Rudy—”

  “Is with James. It’s not like you to worry. You know that James takes care of everything.”

  His jaw twitched. She hid a grin knowing she’d struck a nerve. He nodded and held the door open for her. “Right.”

  She paused. “You don’t sound happy. I thought you looked forward to spending some time alone with me.”

  He nodded again, his expression briefly becoming more resolute before it softened into a smile. “I did—uh do.” He winked. “I was just building up for tomorrow night.”

  She returned his smile then walked past him and let it fall as she headed out into the parking lot. The warm spring evening breeze brushed her skin and the scent of roses from the bushes lining the restaurant greeted her. She would have enjoyed the aroma if she hadn’t been annoyed. Her heels clicked along the gravel path, her black skirt whispering against her legs. It took her a moment to realize hers was the only footsteps she heard. Had he abandoned her? Had he taken this chance to run back inside? She stopped and spun around, gasping in shock when he loomed over her.

  James stopped short and stared at her with a frown. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I didn’t expect you to be so close.”

  “If you hadn’t stopped, I wouldn’t have ended up so close.”

  “I was just checking to see that you were still there.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

  It was a good question, but she’d gotten suspicious because she’d barely been able to hear his footsteps. How could a man of his size walk so softly? She was certain Jackson made his every step known. “I thought you may have changed your mind about seeing my place. You’d said you wanted to.”

  His voice cracked. “I did?”

  Ava had to stop a smile. “Yes, you wanted to see what it was like.”

  “But—but I thought I was just supposed to drive you home.”

  “To see my place. Don’t you remember?” She frowned. “How much have you had to drink?”

  James snapped his fingers clearly finding a way out of having to take her home. “That’s right. I shouldn’t drive.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll get you a—”

  She pushed the cell phone away. “You hardly drank anything, which isn’t like you. Stop stalling. I’m ready to go.” She walked to Jackson’s car then slowed her gait when an unsettling thought hit her. What if James didn’t have his brother’s car keys? What if James said h
e’d left them inside and the brothers switched on her again? Did she really care?

  To her relief the sound of Jackson’s red Porsche unlocking answered her question. At least he was thorough. James opened the passenger door for her.

  “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow,” he said.

  Ava slid into the passenger seat then looked up at him. “I’m not asking you to spend the night.” She crossed her legs and noticed his gaze looking at her skirt. “Unless…”

  He looked away. “I think I see James—”

  “No, you don’t,” she said impatient. If he did stall long enough, his brother would come out and ruin her plans. “Come on, you know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  He hesitated then got in the car.

  Ava remembered the silent car ride as she poured the coffee. Now she had him exactly where she wanted him, sitting on her couch, not knowing what to do.

  His discomfort in the car had been delicious. It was even more so when he entered her apartment. Watching James playacting the role of the sexy Jackson was a study in contrasts. Although Jackson had never been to her apartment, Ava knew the first thing he would do was ask for a drink, as he checked his reflection in a glass clock she had near the door; he’d send a cursory glance at the large window, noticing the window trim and light fixtures, he liked to pay attention to details like that, before taking a seat, complaining that it was too hard, and teasing her to not take too long.

  James, on the other hand, didn’t notice the clock or the window, but instead noticed the hand woven rug in the middle of her living room, picked up a magazine she’d absently thrown on the floor and set it on her coffee table. He didn’t take a seat until she refused his offer to help her in the kitchen and when he did, he pretended the couch was comfortable, even though it wasn’t. He did it all with Jackson’s flair but without his carelessness.