The Other Twin

by Nan Dixon

  She logged in to the website, staring at the screen instead of Nathan. After registering for two classes, she headed to the loan website and entered her financial information.

  Nathan pushed away from the table and prowled her kitchen.

  Her neck ached, and she hated that he was behind her. Levi had snuck up on her too many times. “I have juice, if you’re interested.”

  “No beer, right?” he joked.

  “No.” She looked up and the tension in her shoulders eased a little when she found he was across the room.

  “I was kidding.” He opened cupboard doors, finding a glass. “Do you want anything?”

  “I usually have tea.”

  “Okay.” He filled the kettle and turned on the burner.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She rolled her shoulders but the muscles wouldn’t relax.

  “I’m on it.”

  She went back to the computer, but watched as he went through her cupboards.

  “Do you want this sleepy stuff?” he asked. “My mom drinks that, too.”

  “Yes, thanks.” Even though he looked like his twin, sometimes she forgot he was a Forester.

  She focused on the screen, wishing he would finish and leave her apartment. The kettle whistled and he made her tea, setting the mug next to the computer.

  Leaning over her head, he looked at the screen. “You’re applying for a loan.”

  Darn it, he could read after all. “Yes.”

  He rubbed his chin, the rasp of his stubble the only sound in the room. “Hang on. This might be the answer.”

  What was he talking about?

  He took a seat, setting his glass down. “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “We could...work together.” His eyes gleamed. “I could help with your school expenses. You could help me with Issy. Teach me to be a good father.”

  “What?”

  “I need help. You need money.” He caught her hand. “When you go to class, you’ll need someone to watch your kid.”

  “But...”

  “We can work together.” He scooted his chair closer. “I want to make sure the renovation goes without a hitch and that means putting in long hours. And I don’t want to screw up with Issy.”

  “We’d share child-care duties?”

  “Yes!” His fingers tightened on her hands. “We could work together, be a team. Eat together. Take care of each other’s kids.”

  She pulled her hand away and rubbed her head. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “How much is your tuition?”

  She blurted out the number.

  “I can pay that.” He set his hands on her legs and leaned in. “We can help each other.”

  She slid her chair back with a screech. What was he assuming she would do for tuition money? “Don’t touch me.”

  His hands shot up and he shifted backward. But he was still too close.

  “You want me to trust you with Josh?” The only thing that mattered in her life?

  “I trust you with Issy.” His gaze was too intense.

  “But...” He didn’t know anything about kids. About keeping them to a schedule, keeping them safe.

  “Help me.” He waved a hand at the computer. “And I’ll help you. Helping with your education is a better use for my money than just sitting in my checking account.”

  She swallowed. “You have that much sitting in your checking account?”

  “I know I should invest it.” He shrugged. “Maybe buy a house.”

  Nathan’s child monitor erupted as Issy whimpered.

  “I’ve got to go. Think about this. Please.” He touched her face and headed to the door.

  After throwing the locks, Cheryl left her hand on the smooth wood. Could she trust him?

  The idea of not incurring debt was tempting. And it might ensure a position for her in Abby’s restaurant.

  And, to complicate everything, Nathan was the first man she’d been attracted to since Brad. An ache formed behind her eyes.

  If she accepted, she would have to trust Nathan to keep Josh safe. A man who’d had a daughter for two days. What kind of mother would that make her?

  CHAPTER SIX

  NATHAN JAMMED HIS cap on backward and nailed on risers. He was fueled with coffee. Not because of Issy’s nightmares. This time he’d lost sleep because he was worried Cheryl would reject his suggestion. He wanted to call, to find out what she was thinking, but he was giving her space. Besides, he didn’t have her phone number.

  He placed the board, set the nails and banged them into place. Joint parenting would work. Cheryl just had to say yes.

  “You’re early,” Daniel called over the music Nathan had selected. His brother headed to the radio.

  “Don’t touch.” Nathan pointed with his hammer. He’d gotten in early, partly so he wouldn’t have to listen to the hard metal crap Daniel loved and partly because Issy had been up since five. She was eating breakfast with her grandma now. And bluegrass played from the battered player. His kind of sound.

  “Do I have to listen to this all day?” Daniel complained.

  “Yup.” He set another riser and nailed it into place. He and Daniel worked together for a couple of hours, setting and pounding in the steps. “Railings come today,” Nathan said when they took a short break.

  Daniel guzzled from his water bottle. “What time?”

  “Noon.”

  “Good. We can anchor it this afternoon.”

  Nathan nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “What are you going to do about your daughter not talking?” Daniel asked.

  “I’ll give it another week.” Or two. Nathan slapped a hand on his thigh and sawdust flew. “Maybe there’s been too many changes in her life.”

  Daniel tilted his head, looking at his twin. “It’s...odd.”

  “I know.” He pinched between his eyebrows. “I don’t have a clue what kind of life she had before this.”

  “Maybe you should take her to a doctor.”

  “As soon as she’s added to my insurance.” Mom had contacted the health insurance company, and he was waiting on paperwork. “Let’s get Abby’s steps on.”

  They finished the risers and released the clamps. “Pretty gorgeous work,” Nathan said.

  They ate lunch while waiting for the railing. And waited. Had he’d given the supplier the wrong date or time?

  Finally the beeping of a backup alarm sounded.

  “There’s the railing.” He exhaled, heading to the door.

  The iron railing was a thing of beauty. After he and Daniel anchored it into place, his brother gave him a high-five.

  “Just like I imagined.” Pride had Nathan standing a little straighter.

  Daniel picked up his tools. “I’d better head to the Abercorn site.”

  “I think I’ll see if Abby wants to look at her stairs.”

  “You’re just looking for treats,” Daniel said, heading out the door.

  “It is pretty great working here.” Nathan tucked away the clamps scattered on the floor and swept. Maybe Cheryl would be in the Fitzgerald kitchen and have an answer for him.

  He needed her help. This was the perfect solution. What else would convince her? A kiss? Not likely. Cheryl jumped if he got too close.

  But he’d touched her cheek and she’d let him. Even settled her face into the cradle of his hand. He’d never dated a woman like her but, damn, he wanted to kiss her.

  He knocked on the kitchen screen then walked in. Even though Fitzgerald House was air-conditioned, the heat from the ovens hit him first. At least the sweat on his brow could be blamed on that. But it was really because Cheryl was leaning over to pull out a tray and her ass was...righ
t there. Cupped in shorts.

  He wanted his hands on those rounded cheeks. Not the cheeks he’d touched last night.

  “Hey, Nathan.” Abby blew strands of hair out of her face. “What’s up?”

  He ripped his gaze away as Cheryl turned. Lord. Her tank top clung to her breasts. Was she trying to kill him?

  “I thought you might like to see the finished stairs.” He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

  “It’s done?” Cheryl set the tray on the counter.

  He nodded. This was ridiculous. He didn’t get tongue-tied around women. Not from lust. His speech problems were from dyslexia.

  “I need to wait for the next batch of madeleines to come out of the oven,” Abby said. “Then I’ll run over. Cheryl. Go check it out.”

  “Are you sure?” Cheryl asked.

  “Go,” Abby insisted. “I’m five minutes behind you.”

  “I guess.” Cheryl avoided his gaze as she pulled off her apron. She brushed past him as he held the door and he inhaled her sweet scent and wished he could take a nibble.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “You snorted,” she said.

  “I was thinking how good you smell. Like a cookie.”

  “And that disgusts you?” Her eyes were huge.

  They stepped into the dimly lit carriage house. “No.” He touched her arm. “I was thinking I’d like to take a nibble out of you.”

  Her hands clasped against her chest. “What?”

  He stepped closer. “You heard me.”

  She stood there, her mouth open enough that he could see her pink tongue. “That’s not a good idea.”

  He inhaled. “I can’t help it.”

  She paced away. “I was thinking of agreeing to your offer.”

  Everything inside him lightened. “Really?”

  “I was.” She waved her hand between them. “But I don’t want you to think about nibbling. There won’t be any nibbling.”

  A chill rolled down his spine. What did he expect? No one as sweet as Cheryl could be interested in someone as stupid as he was. “I get that.”

  “We’ll work out a schedule.” Her hands twisted in front of her belly. A firm, slim belly. Not that he would ever see it in the flesh.

  “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

  “Good. Maybe we should talk tonight.”

  “Dinner?” he asked.

  “How about after dinner?”

  She didn’t want to eat with him. That was fine. But an ache grew in his chest, like she’d stabbed him with a chisel and thrown salt on the open wound.

  Cheryl headed toward the stairs like she couldn’t escape fast enough. “This is beautiful.”

  She stroked the railing and the sight of her fingers on the curved metal went right to his groin. Didn’t the woman know what her innocent moves did to him?

  “I love it!” Abby hustled into the carriage house. She stopped next to Cheryl. “Can I stand on it?”

  He nodded. But the pride he’d felt in his work dissipated. At least, Cheryl had agreed to help him with Issy.

  What else could a guy like him expect? That Cheryl would be attracted to him?

  She wasn’t that stupid.

  * * *

  CHERYL GRABBED HER KNIVES, tucking them in her tote. “Are you ready?”

  Josh glared. “I don’t want him to watch me.”

  “I need to get to school.” It was her first class. Nathan had paid her tuition and would be watching Josh tonight for the first time.

  They’d helped each other for almost two weeks. Isabella had gotten into Josh’s day care and they’d taken turns dropping off and picking up the kids. She took a deep breath. And she’d made it clear there wouldn’t be any hanky-panky between them.

  Nathan was making her life easier. And going to school should help her qualify for a job in Abby’s restaurant.

  “Grab your stuff.” She picked up the list she’d written for Nathan. Bedtimes. Reminders on brushing teeth and taking showers or baths.

  “Why do I have to go there?” Josh whined. “Babysitters always come to me.”

  “This is different,” she said.

  “I never have any fun.” He shoved his sketchbook into his backpack. “You’re always gone.”

  Guilt made her stomach churn. How could she explain she was trying to make a better life for them? “Bet you’ll have fun.”

  “If it was Mr. Gray or Mr. Dan, I would.” He trudged to the back door. “But it’s the b—”

  “Stop.” Josh had called Nathan butthead too often. “No name calling.”

  He shrugged. Then stood on his tiptoes, but couldn’t reach the lock.

  She leaned over his head and unlocked the dead bolt. Before she opened the door, she knelt and took his shoulders. “This is best behavior time. You need to show Isabella how to be good.”

  “She’s a baby.”

  “She’ll be like a...a little sister.” She regretted the words the minute she said them. “You can show her how to be a big kid.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I guess.”

  They headed to Nathan and Isabella’s apartment. Josh knocked, tapping his foot as they waited by the door. And waited.

  Her son looked at her. “Should I knock again?”

  She nodded. Had Nathan forgotten?

  “Coming,” Nathan’s muffled voice called out as Josh pounded harder.

  The door opened. Nathan’s hair stood straight up. Isabella was tucked under his arm like a football. “Sorry. We were cleaning.”

  Noodles were mushed in Isabella’s hair. A streak of tomato sauce was on her cheek. Cheryl pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

  “Don’t you dare,” he whispered.

  She laughed. Couldn’t help it.

  Nathan stepped away from the doorway to let them in. A few toys were scattered on the living room floor. As Cheryl walked past the kitchen, she saw dinner dishes still on the counters and table. Tomato sauce decorated the booster chair. A pile of noodles sat on the floor.

  “Rough dinner?” she asked.

  “I have a new motto. Make Issy use a fork.” He rolled his eyes. “And move the plate away from the table’s edge.”

  “Josh, help pick up, please,” she said.

  Her son frowned.

  “Hey, thanks for the doctor you recommended,” Nathan said. “I finally got an appointment for Issy.”

  “Good. You’ll like her.” And maybe they would find out why Issy wouldn’t talk.

  “I made a list.” She started to hand it to Nathan, but his hands were full of mucky kid.

  “Can you set it down?” Nathan looked around. “On the counter.”

  “Will do.” She walked into the kitchen and wanted to start cleaning, but didn’t have the time. “Be good,” she warned Josh before she left.

  As she walked to school, her thoughts stayed with Nathan and the kids. Had he read her list? Were the kids in the bath? Had he cleaned the kitchen before the sauce and noodles dried?

  In class, the students sharpened their knives. Not the time to be daydreaming. Abby had lent her Fitzgerald House’s knives, otherwise Cheryl would have incurred more debt. Then the students practiced on onions.

  Using carrots, they moved on to julienne cuts and then chiffonade, continuing through the techniques she’d already learned thanks to Abby.

  “You’ve had instruction,” the professor noted.

  “I work for Abby Fitzgerald,” Cheryl explained.

  “She’s talented. I’ve tried to get her to teach a class or two.”

  “She’s busy with the B and B.” Cheryl smiled. “And just got married.”

  “I’ll get her eventually.” The professor w
alked to the front of the room to dismiss the class.

  After cleaning her knives, Cheryl rolled up the case. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have people wanting you to teach their classes?

  Stepping out of the air-conditioned building, she stripped off her chef coat, glad she’d worn a tank top.

  The streetlights blinked on as she made her way through the square. Laughter and voices carried from hidden corners and people filled the sidewalks. A fountain splashed on the opposite side of the square.

  A photographer crouched behind a camera set up on a tripod. From the glint of the streetlight off the red curls, the woman had to be Dolley Fitzgerald. Dolley had started a photography career after apprenticing with Liam, her boyfriend. It gave Cheryl hope that she could learn a new career, too.

  Dolley spotted her and waved.

  Cheryl waved back, but didn’t interrupt Dolley’s work. She wanted to get back to Josh. He should be asleep by now.

  In her apartment, she put away the knives. Unlocking the kitchen door, she propped it open.

  Nathan must have fixed her sticking door because it opened easily. He could really be thoughtful.

  His door was open. She rapped softly, not wanting to wake the kids. When there wasn’t an answer, she moved into the apartment.

  Nathan was sprawled in his lounge chair, a beer in his hand. A baseball game played on the flat screen, the volume low.

  Her shoulders tightened. “Were you drinking around the kids?”

  His head jerked. “Hello to you, too.”

  She waved away his sarcasm. “Did you drink around my son?”

  “I just sat down. Decided to have a beer.” He pushed out of the chair.

  She crossed her arms. “Please don’t drink around Josh.”

  “It’s one beer.” Nathan held up a single finger. “But I’ll always make sure he’s asleep.”

  Levi had never had just one beer in his life. She chewed her lip. The rumors about Nathan’s drinking had made her think he was a heavy drinker. Rumors could be wrong. But this was her son. “I’d rather you not drink at all when you’re watching him.”

  “Fine.” He headed down the hall.

  “Wait. How did it go?”

  Nathan turned, his eyebrow arching over his caramel eyes. “He’s as suspicious of me as his mother is.”