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The Other Twin

Page 9

by Nan Dixon


  They stepped out of the sunlight and into the shadowy carriage house. Nathan, Daniel and Jed bent wood around the spiral curve. Cheryl couldn’t tear her gaze away from Nathan’s straining muscles.

  “Clamp,” Daniel called to Jed.

  Jed handed it up to him like a surgical nurse.

  “It’s going to be gorgeous,” Cheryl said.

  Abby sighed. “I can’t wait.”

  “What’s going on the second floor?” Cheryl asked.

  “Dining or private party space. Between Fitzgerald and Carleton House, we’ll have plenty of rental space options.”

  Now was her chance. Cheryl inhaled. “Will you have full-time chefs working under you?”

  Abby nodded, moving closer to where the men worked. “Line and sous chefs.”

  “What skill sets are you looking for?” Cheryl hung back, not wanting the men to hear her questions.

  “I’ll look for experienced chefs.” Abby kicked a piece of wood out of her way. “I wish my old sous chef hadn’t moved to Atlanta.”

  “Will I have the skills you’re looking for by the time the restaurant opens?” Cheryl’s voice squeaked but she pushed the words out.

  Abby’s bright green stare pierced her. Cheryl forced her gaze not to drop to the floor.

  “Are you still taking culinary classes?” Abby asked.

  “I’m trying to fit more in next semester.” But money was a roadblock.

  Abby nodded. “Keep taking classes and we’ll reassess in a couple of months.”

  “Thank you.” Cheryl released the breath she’d been holding. She must have spoken more loudly than she’d intended because all three men turned toward her.

  “We brought treats,” Abby called and then sighed. “My stairs are gorgeous.”

  “Glad you like them,” Nathan said.

  The men dusted their hands and moved to the food table.

  “What’s on the menu today?” Nathan asked Cheryl.

  “Welsh cakes.”

  “Never had them.” He walked too close.

  “This is the first time I’ve made them,” she confessed, stepping back.

  He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Great,” he mumbled. “They melt... Ooh.” He moaned and grabbed another cake.

  His reaction made her stand a little taller.

  This was what she wanted to do. Somehow she would find the money for culinary classes. She would prove to Abby that she belonged in her restaurant.

  * * *

  NATHAN PARKED HIS truck in the warehouse lot and Daniel pulled in next to him. Though he’d hated asking his brother for help, he couldn’t haul all Issy’s furniture in one load and he didn’t have the time for two trips. His first lesson as a father—kids worried if you were late.

  Daniel met him at the warehouse door. “I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re a dad.”

  Nathan snorted. “Do you think I can?”

  Daniel slapped him on the back. “Maybe this will settle you down.”

  Nathan tamped his resentment. “Maybe I don’t want to settle down.”

  “It’s pretty sweet.” Daniel had a goofy grin on his face.

  Nathan opened the door. “I don’t have a woman waiting for me every night.”

  Daniel grinned. “I do.”

  “It’s good Bess is making an honest man out of you. You can carry on the Forester name and all that.” Nathan wouldn’t be having any more kids. Women didn’t stick. Or he didn’t stick with women. Better to love ’em and leave ’em, than to have them realize he couldn’t read something as simple as the washing instructions on their clothes.

  At the warehouse desk, Nathan gave his name and the employee handed him an invoice.

  He took a deep breath, hoping the words would stay in order.

  Monterey. White. Platform. Nightstand. Captain. Storage. Dresser. Cubby. Mattress. Bench. Headboard.

  He blinked, trying to make the phrases come together. He could picture the furniture, but the words didn’t make sense. He took a deep breath. He could look at the boxes and visualize the layout.

  A man pushed a pallet of boxes and furniture wrapped in packing material to the door.

  “Walk me through what’s on here,” Nathan asked him.

  “Platform bed with drawers. The headboard with shelves. The foot-of-the-bed shelves.” The man touched each box. “End table.”

  Nathan closed his eyes. “Mattress? Railings? Dresser?”

  The man pointed behind him. “Coming next.”

  His brother pushed the cart out the door and they filled Daniel’s truck. When the worker arrived with the rest, Nathan signed the paperwork and they loaded his truck.

  “Looks like we’ve got a night of assembly ahead of us.” Daniel’s door creaked as he opened it. “When did mom want us for dinner?”

  “Six thirty.” He checked his watch. It was already five. “If we put the bed together, I can handle the rest.” As much as Nathan would prefer Issy sleeping at Cheryl’s, it was clear Cheryl didn’t agree. He rolled his shoulders. His sleeping on a short sofa hadn’t been easy, either.

  “Guess we’d better get back to the apartment.” His home. Nothing like Daniel’s place. His brother had bought and gutted his own house five years ago. But then, life had always been easier for Daniel. Nathan had never wanted anything permanent.

  Did he want it now? A home, a kid and a woman? No. Because he could only hide the fact that everything garbled in his head for so long. Hell, Cheryl thought he was illiterate.

  He headed to the carriage house, his face burning. He hated the pity and questions he’d seen on Cheryl’s face. He wanted her to look at him with desire, not sympathy. But he needed her help with Isabella. His daughter didn’t deserve a father like him. She didn’t deserve a disappearing mother.

  This afternoon, he’d called Information, searching for Heather. There was no record of a phone in her name in all of Georgia. What kind of mother up and vanished?

  But even with all the stress and the unknowns, having a daughter was pretty amazing.

  When he pulled into the Fitzgerald House parking lot, Daniel and Gray were unloading. Nathan propped opened the door and ran up the stairs to unlock the apartment. Gray and Daniel followed with the bed frame.

  “Heard you have a daughter.” Gray forced the mattress around a tight corner. “Are congratulations in order?”

  “Hell if I know.” What else could he say?

  Gray’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. Embarrassed, Nathan headed back to the trucks.

  Josh leaned over the stair railing and hollered, “I thought Mr. Gray and Mr. Dan were here.”

  “They’re in my apartment.”

  Josh tapped his foot, the wooden sound echoing through the courtyard. “Can I help?”

  Nathan blinked. Josh wouldn’t give him the time of day, but he loved Daniel and Gray. “Can you carry the railings?”

  Josh rushed down the stairs and made a muscle. “Yeah!”

  Nathan balanced the box on Josh’s shoulder. It was the only way the kid could carry it. The boy wobbled, but headed up the stairs.

  Nathan grabbed another box. Josh was still making his way up the stairs.

  “Can I help?” Nathan asked.

  “I’ve got it,” he grunted.

  “Josh.” Gray came down the stairs. “Let me carry that.”

  “Thanks,” the kid gasped.

  Gray could help, not Nathan. His gut twisted. Even after buying Josh art supplies, the kid detested him.

  They emptied the trucks and stood in the extra bedroom, three men and Josh. The kid imitated their widespread stance, his arms crossed over his chest. Nathan had to smile. If he told Cheryl, would she be amused?

  “I can lend a hand p
utting things together,” Gray said. “I should learn this stuff for when Abby and I have a child.”

  Daniel jerked. “Is Abby pregnant?”

  “No.” Gray’s blue eyes gleamed. “She wants to open the restaurant first. But it’s sure fun to practice.”

  “Watch the language.” Nathan’s gaze shot to Josh. Luckily, the kid didn’t look like he understood what Gray was talking about.

  Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. He missed sex. With Issy living with him, the chances of him getting lucky had fallen to zip.

  The memory of Cheryl in her near-transparent T-shirt zipped through his mind. His body filled with enough heat to warm the carriage house in a Savannah cold snap. Then he sighed. He and Cheryl would never happen.

  “What can I do, Mr. Gray?” Josh asked.

  Gray looked over at Nathan. “What’s first?”

  Josh scowled. Of course he expected Gray to be in charge. Nathan pointed. “The bed.”

  With the three of them working together and Josh hauling cardboard to the hallway, they got the bed and shelving put together. And never looked at the instructions. His kind of assembly.

  “I thought this would take longer.” Without all the help, it would have. Nathan headed to the kitchen. “Anyone want a beer?”

  “I’m good.” Daniel shifted the dresser into place.

  “None for me.” Gray broke down cardboard. “This is a sweet bedroom setup.”

  It was. But now the walls looked dingy. And they needed pictures or artwork to make the place—warmer.

  He heard Josh in the outside hallway. “Mom, Mr. Gray and Mr. Daniel needed my help.”

  Nathan’s teeth snapped together.

  Cheryl came in, staring her son. “You’re not allowed to wander through the carriage house. We’ve talked about this. I don’t care who you thought you were helping.”

  “But they needed me,” he argued.

  “Sorry, Cheryl.” Gray gathered cardboard. “I should have made sure he had permission.”

  “Yes.” Cheryl glanced around the room and smiled at Nathan. “The furniture looks great.”

  Her smile brightened the room. The heat that had dissipated ramped back up. “I need to paint the walls.”

  She nodded. “Did you wash the bedding?”

  “Wash the bedding?” Nathan frowned. His apartment didn’t have a washer and dryer. “I...I guess I’ll take them to Mom’s.”

  “You’re back doing laundry at Mom’s?” Daniel laughed.

  “Ha, ha,” Nathan shot back. Daniel never missed an opportunity to take a jab.

  “I think we’re finished. See you at Mom and Pop’s after you gather your laundry.” Daniel chuckled as he left.

  “Sure.” Nathan pushed on the ache in his temples that always bloomed when he was with his twin. “Thanks for your help.”

  Gray also headed out. Josh followed the men. Hero worship was hard to watch.

  “Josh, say goodbye and come back here,” Cheryl said.

  “Yeah, Mom,” he replied.

  “I could throw a load or two in for you,” Cheryl offered.

  It would be one less thing to worry about. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Isabella’s a sweet child.” Cheryl picked up the bedding. “Has she said anything more?”

  He shook his head. God, what if this was something she’d inherited from him? Dyslexia affected his speech. His chest ached. He didn’t want his child to live through the same pain he’d endured in school. “We’re having dinner at my parents. I won’t be back for a while.”

  “If you trust me with your key, I’ll make the bed.”

  “Thanks.” He was so relieved, he yanked her into a big hug.

  The bag of bedding dropped to the floor with a thump. Her arms clutched his waist.

  It wasn’t a move on his part. He was thankful for her help. But her breasts pressed against his chest. She stared up at him, her eyes going dark.

  “Let go of my mom!” Josh stormed into the room. He pummeled Nathan’s leg with sharp jabs.

  “Hey, slugger.” Nathan let go of Cheryl and she staggered back.

  “Don’t hurt my mom.” Josh kicked him.

  “Josh, stop.” Cheryl caught his hand and pulled him away. “Nathan was thanking me for helping him.”

  “He touched you!”

  “Not in a bad way,” she insisted.

  Nathan slumped onto Issy’s bed. What the hell was happening? Had someone touched Cheryl in a bad way?

  “Is...is everything okay?” Are we okay?

  She knelt next to Josh. “Apologize to Mr. Nathan.”

  “He shouldn’t touch you.” Josh stuck his chin out.

  “It’s fine.” Nathan ran his hands through his hair. He nodded at Josh. “He was protecting you. That’s good.”

  Josh glared back.

  Cheryl looked at Nathan. “It’s never okay to hit someone.” She squeezed her son’s shoulder in silent communication.

  “Sorry.” The kid spit the word out like it was venom.

  “I understand.” Nathan nodded. “It’s a guy thing. We have to protect our moms, right?”

  Josh didn’t answer. Thank goodness the kid didn’t have superpowers or Nathan would have been incinerated by the fire in his eyes.

  “I’ll leave the door open when I go,” Nathan said as Cheryl and Josh headed into the hallway.

  “We’ll keep an ear out,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  But Cheryl had turned the corner.

  Nathan didn’t move. What had happened to Cheryl to make Josh so protective?

  * * *

  CHERYL ADDED THE numbers again. She’d spent the evening pulling financial information together for her school loan application.

  Once more she wished she had a computer, but her old one had died six months ago. A new computer was a luxury her budget couldn’t afford.

  She would use her break tomorrow, and hope the B and B’s business center was empty. Abby needed to know she was serious about wanting to work in the restaurant.

  A knock sounded on the kitchen door. “It’s me,” Nathan said from the other side.

  Her heart picked up a few extra beats. She’d avoided thinking about how Nathan had hugged her. Just a friendly hug. Then Josh had hit him. And when she’d tried to talk to her son about his behavior, he’d been so full of sass, he’d lost television privileges for the night.

  But Nathan’s hug had been...nice. More than nice.

  Too bad she only had time in her life for one male—the pouting boy who’d been sent to bed early.

  She took a deep breath and flipped the locks. Nathan pushed the stubborn door open. “I’ll fix that.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He stared into her eyes. Did he know she’d been thinking about him? About how good she’d felt pressed to his body?

  “Where’s Issy?” she asked, shaking herself back to the present.

  “Asleep.” He held his monitor. “Thank you for making the bed. I appreciate it.”

  He moved into the kitchen and the room shrank. She scuttled back and bumped into the kitchen table, knocking her papers to the floor. She began picking them up and Nathan knelt next to her. His shoulder brushed hers.

  “I’ll get this mess,” she insisted.

  “It’s my fault.” Nathan shook his head. “I know you’re nervous around men. I shouldn’t get too close.”

  Her face burned.

  He held up a hand. “You may not believe me, but I would never hurt you.”

  She stopped gathering papers and took in a deep breath. “I know.”

  Or thought she knew.

  He reached out a finger and stopped, like he was waiting for permission to touch
her. She looked up and found his deep brown eyes locked on hers. She nodded.

  “I won’t hurt you.” He touched her chin.

  She forced herself to hold still. “My head knows. My body wants to run.”

  “Tell me why you’re afraid. Did someone hurt you?”

  She nodded, ashamed at her weakness. “Levi.” Her mom.

  His hand cupped her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.” Her voice was a whisper.

  It had been so long since a man had touched her gently. She leaned into his hand. His other hand touched her shoulder and he shifted closer.

  Too close. She jerked. “I need to pick up this mess.”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. Then it was like shutters slamming down. He scooped up the last of the papers from under the table. “What is all this?”

  “My school application.”

  He stared at the papers in his hands as he stood. “But this is all numbers.”

  “I’m applying for grants.” Loans. She held her hand out for the material.

  He finally relinquished the papers, but his fingers grazed hers. On purpose? “Wouldn’t this be easier to do online?”

  She swallowed back a sigh, almost dropping everything again. “My computer died.”

  He tilted his head. “You can use mine.”

  “Yours?” She shook her head.

  “No big deal.” He headed out the door, leaving it open behind him. “I’ll be right back.”

  Using his computer would save her time. But she and Nathan were becoming entrenched in each other’s lives. She needed to be an island, focused on Josh, work and school.

  That didn’t sound like much fun.

  Nathan came back into the kitchen. “Here.”

  He plugged in the laptop and set it in front of her. Leaning over, he opened the lid. With his arms encasing her body, his woodsy scent wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

  What was wrong with her? She didn’t think about men and their colognes and warmth.

  “You can use this anytime,” he said, sitting at the table. “You did me a favor. I’d like to do the same for you.”

  Was he planning to stay while she filled everything out? “I can bring this back when I’m done.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nice to rest for a minute.”

 

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