My Sister's Boyfriend (The Trouble With Twins 1)

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Their what? You couldn’t call it a relationship. Was she just a bonking buddy? Was Jennifer right to never see him again? And wasn’t that what he wanted?

  "So how’s Jennifer?” Leslie asked him.

  He frowned. "I told her about the job in Denver, and she ended our whatever-it-was we had.”

  “Hmmm…I like this girl,” Leslie answered, shocking Brent. “Now I understand the reason for the long face.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, right. The last time you were this glum was right before you took your finals to get into medical school.”

  “There will be other women.”

  “True, there will be,” his sister agreed. “Just like our dad has other women. Pretty soon, the two of you can compare numbers as to how many women you’ve both had.”

  Brent glanced at his sister. Her words wounded him. “That was mean and nasty.”

  “You’re right,” she said, softening her tone. “But often times the truth is. I apologize.”

  “Don’t compare my situation to our father’s. Mine is different,” Brent insisted.

  Leslie raised her brows at him. “Explain to me the differences, because I’m not seeing them.”

  “It’s obvious. I don’t marry and divorce over and over. I’m forthright with the women I date. They know right up front that I’m not interested in anything permanent.”

  Leslie nodded. “You’re right. But why do you see that as being better than Dad?” Leslie asked. “Seems to me that you’re both alike, only he at least thinks he’s made an honorable commitment to his wives. Your idea of an intimate relationship is a trip to the bedroom with the latest Barbie you’re dating.”

  Brent fumed. He’d always been honest with every woman he’d dated, never leading them on. And when things became too complicated, he moved on, leaving them before they wanted rings and flowers.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Leslie looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “Nothing, if that’s what you want in life. Maybe I should just accept the fact that my brother is going to be like my Dad.”

  Her words stunned him, leaving him feeling even more cold and lonely than he already felt.

  Could Leslie be right? Certainly he never let anyone get close to him. Except Jennifer.

  They’d shared confidences and so much more.

  He watched the couple on the golf course who had progressed from petting to kissing. These two needed a hotel room. Watching them made him queasy. Not to mention the fact that Leslie was frustrating him as well.

  "I don’t cheat on the women I’m with. I’m good to them,” he defended.

  She laughed. “You’re not with them long enough to cheat on them.”

  A surge of intense anger rippled through him. He didn’t like being compared to his father. He was different. “I never tell a woman I love them.”

  “Great. You’ve never gotten to know someone enough to fall in love either.”

  That wasn’t true. He felt like he knew Jennifer, and that was one of the reasons he felt the need to run.

  “You’ve never gotten to know the joys and heartaches the emotion brings. A couple of great dates, some good sex, and you move on to the next woman without ever realizing the pleasure in putting someone first. Without ever getting beyond the superficial.”

  Brent frowned, not liking the direction of this conversation at all. “Oh come on! What is love, anyway? It’s something that the movies portray as wonderful. Dad always says he's in love, but five failed marriages certainly don’t prove he knows anything about the emotion."

  "What does dating lots of women and never having a lasting relationship say about what do you know about commitment and love?" she asked.

  Her words felt like a slap to his face.

  She softened her voice. “You’re not Dad. You’re his son, who is intelligent enough to know that he doesn’t want to be like his father. Yet you make the same mistakes.”

  Brent turned away, unable to look at his sister any longer. His body felt numb with shock and anger.

  What right did she have to compare him to their Dad? He wasn’t like his father. Was he?

  Leslie reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder and patted him lovingly. "You’re like a binge drinker. You binge on women so that you never have to commit to just one. Therefore you can never fail. If our Dad had committed to just one of his wives and never cheated on her, maybe they would still be married."

  Stunned, Brent couldn't speak for a moment. Could she be right? Was he bingeing on women like an out-of-control drunk, going from one woman to another? In trying not to be like his father, was he repeating the same acts only without the license and the ceremony that made the relationship legal?

  He didn't want to be like his father. He didn't want a revolving door of women traipsing through his life for nothing more than sex.

  Jennifer’s image came to mind, and all the anger he’d felt a moment ago seemed to center not on her, but on the fact he couldn’t have her anymore. He missed everything about her. He missed her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes twinkled with merriment, her kisses, and the way she made him feel like a man no one could defeat.

  His life seemed empty without her. God, how he wanted her. The only thing that held him back was his fear of being like his father. Yet Leslie had shown him his attempt to remain uninvolved was like his father’s failed marriages. They both lacked commitment.

  "So how do you know you’re in love with someone? What does it feel like?" he asked fearfully, yet curious about the answer.

  Leslie smiled, relief showing in her eyes. "Besides wanting to be with them all the time, their happiness, their needs and desires are more important than your own. You want to do things for the other person that will make them happy."

  Like putting your hands in someone's toilet. Like missing her smile, her laugh, and her silly nature. Like washing his clothes at two in the morning, so he would have clean underwear that wasn’t full of bubbles.

  Just thinking about Jennifer made him ache with want for her, and yet he had not seen her since that evening when she'd ended their time together. Since then he'd been miserable, grouchy, his thoughts replaying their time together like a movie over and over again.

  He wanted to buy her Fudgesicles, enjoy thunderstorms with her, and even put barbeque sauce on her potato salad for her. He wanted to fix her toilet, her plumbing, even confess his fling with her sister. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to be happy.

  If being with her made him a better man, why would he give up the opportunity to spend his life with her?

  He loved Jennifer. Oh, God, he’d fallen in love and then blown it, just like his father.

  "By refusing to make a commitment to a lasting relationship, I'm acting just like Dad," he said aloud, though the words were meant for himself.

  Leslie smiled at him and gave a slow nod. “I’m afraid so. You’re just not marrying them.”

  He looked at the man he called father and did not want to be like him. Yet he didn't want to fail either.

  "What if I screw up?" he asked.

  "Then you're human just like the rest of us," she said.

  His father's new girlfriend squealed as she putted the ball into the hole and threw her arms around his father.

  Brent had to get out of here, and now. He loved Jennifer, had probably fallen in love with her long ago. He glanced over at his sister.

  "Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For being honest with me and not giving up on me even when I was too blind and stubborn to see the truth. This is what you’ve been trying to tell me for months.”

  She laughed. “Yes. It’s been a rough road, but I kept hoping for a breakthrough. But I think Jennifer is the one who’s helped you more than anything. You love her, don’t you?”

  “With all my heart and soul,” he said and knew he meant every word. “I haven’t slept for a week. Not since she told me it was over.”r />
  Leslie smiled. “Now if she can just convince you that you’re accepting this job in Denver for the wrong reasons.”

  He laughed and glanced at the golfers who were paying more attention to each other than their game. “Are you enjoying this game of golf?"

  “Golf? All I see is two people playing grab ass on the greens.”

  "Do you think the lovebirds would miss the golf cart?"

  She laughed. "Oh yes, but the walk might cool them off."

  "Let’s go," he said, a sense of urgency propelling him to reach Jennifer and confess everything he'd learned. He only hoped that his past with her sister didn't ruin their future.

  He turned the key, starting the engine.

  His father turned and looked at him questioningly. Brent couldn't help but smile and wave as he floored the cart, spinning it in the direction of the clubhouse.

  By the time he dropped off Leslie at her place, the sun had begun its descent into the western sky, and Brent knew he couldn’t let the moon rise without speaking to Jennifer.

  He stopped by his house just long enough to grab the for sale sign in the front yard. He pulled his rental car up in front of her house and saw her Grand Prix sitting in the driveway.

  Still in his golf clothes, he hurried across the yard to the porch taking the unwieldy sign with him. He was going to lay everything out for her. He was going to tell her he’d gotten naked with her sister in high school. He’d tell her how he’d fallen in love with her and beg her forgiveness for being so stupid and so much like his father.

  Pounding on the door, he waited anxiously for her to answer, uncertain but calmer than he had been in days. This felt right.

  The door opened, and he pushed inside not waiting for her invitation. “We need to talk…”

  He stopped and gazed at the woman before him. Identical face, hair, eyes, even a small mole on her neck gave her the appearance of Jennifer, but there was no love shining from her eyes, and her mouth was not quirked up in that funny little smirk she often wore.

  She didn’t have that sparkle in her eyes that left him wanting to find the nearest bedroom. She didn’t have that secretive smile that made him want to find out what she was thinking.

  She glanced at the local real estate’s for sale sign that he held in his hands and laughed. “Selling properties now, Dr. Moulton?”

  Something about her laugh reminded him of that date so many years ago. He remembered the way Julia and he had laughed and how much he liked hearing her laughter as they sat looking at the lake and the stars, talking and having fun.

  That laugh wasn’t the same as he remembered.

  Something wasn’t right about his memory of that night. And the person standing in front of him wasn’t Jennifer.

  Julia stood before him, and he realized he’d always been able to tell them apart. He gasped as his mind made the connection between the two laughs.

  It wasn’t Julia with him that night on Lake Palestine. It’d always been Jennifer.

  The thought slammed into him, and he reeled from the impact. Jennifer was the girl that he’d been with in the backseat of his car all those years ago. He’d been too young and hormonal to realize the truth.

  “No, Julia,” he managed, realization dawning that he’d slept with Jennifer, not Julia, that night so long ago.

  Jennifer had known all along about him sleeping with her sister, but it had really been her, and she’d never said anything.

  “Are you looking for Jennifer?” she questioned.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me find her.

  Julia disappeared into the back of the house and returned with an obviously reluctant Jennifer in tow.

  In the same room, side by side, the differences were noticeable if he looked. But to a stranger, he could see where the confusion came from. Julia slipped from the room.

  He shoved the real estate sign at Jennifer.

  “I’m not selling the house. I’m not moving. We need to talk,” he said, feeling even more certain that from the very beginning he’d been meant to be with this woman.

  Her eyes widened and narrowed at him. “We said everything the other night.”

  “No, you did the talking. Now it’s my turn to tell you how stupid I’ve been,” he said, catching her attention. “I’ve tried for years not to act like my dad only to become the unmarried version of him.”

  She glanced at him quizzically.

  “Look, I was sitting on the golf course with him and soon-to-be wife number six when my sister rather pointedly showed me that I act just like him, only without the multiple marriage licenses. Dad fears intimacy and likes falling in love, so he marries. With me, I never let the intimacy become love. I’m no different than him except when I’m with you. You make me different.”

  She frowned and crossed her arms, her brow raised with skepticism. “How are you different with me?”

  “You don’t know it, but with you I abandoned all of my rules. I saw you even when I knew you affected me more than any woman ever before. Yes, I ran a couple of times, but I always came back. And here I am now, standing before you…”

  “And?”

  He grabbed her by the arm. “Come with me, please. I have something to show you.”

  She let him lead her out of the house, down the steps to his rental car. He threw the for sale sign in the yard and then opened the back door of his car, indicating she should crawl in. She climbed into the back seat and he scooted across the seat to her as she sat as close to the opposite door as possible, her posture less than warm and inviting.

  Brent picked up her hand and gazed into her blue eyes, wanting to somehow make this a romantic gesture. “Look, I’ve been a complete idiot about this relationship stuff, and I can only promise you that I’ll do better. I realized today that I have a huge fear about failing. But with you, I’m willing to give forever after a chance.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I didn’t know that caring so much for someone else’s happiness was love. I want to spend my life with you, making you happy. I love you, Jennifer.”

  She gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

  “With that in mind, I thought that the perfect place to have this discussion would be where it all started. Yeah, I figured out that it wasn’t Julia I first made love to in the back of my father’s Mustang fifteen years ago. It was you.”

  Jennifer began to cry big tears of joy. “You want to spend your life with me?”

  “Yes. I need you.” He smiled. “So will you, Jennifer Riley, marry me and spend the rest of my days teaching me to be your husband forever and ever.”

  She flew into his arms, squeezing him. “Oh God, Brent, I never thought you would ever say those words.”

  “Well?”

  “Yes, oh, yes.”

  A feeling of relief and excitement overcame him. This felt so right. For the first time in a week, he felt like he had found his way.

  He slumped down in the seat, pulling her with him. “I’m so relieved it was you that night so long ago and not your sister.”

  She snuggled into his arms, laughing. “Took you long enough to realize the truth.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of dense about a lot of things. You know with your sexual automobile fantasies, we’re going to have to buy a bigger car.”

  She smiled and kissed him on the lips. “That could be fun.”

  “We could conceive our first child in the back of a nice, big sedan.”

  She nuzzled against him. “Could we start off with something a little smaller and work up to a sedan? Does your father still have that Mustang?”

  He laughed. “No, but I’m sure we can find one.”

  “Oh Brent, I’m so happy. I never thought this day would come.”

  “You and me both.”

  His mouth closed over hers, and he knew he’d come home to stay and found a love that would last a lifetime, for they were meant to be together.

  She broke the seal of their lips. “So does this mean that you�
�re not going to freak out when I need you to fix the toilet?”

  “Baby, I’m your Ty-D-Bol man for life.”

  ________

  Author Bio

  Sylvia McDaniel

  Sylvia McDaniel and her very supportive husband, Don live in Texas with their teenage son, Shane; Putz, the klutzy dachshund; and Ashley our shy dachshund. During the day Sylvia works for a small insurance agency helping clients with their commercial insurance coverage.

  Hooked on romances at a very young age, she is now hopelessly addicted to writing and gets up at 4:30 A.M. four mornings a week to write for two hours before going to her day job. Plus she spends at least three evenings a week in front of the computer working on her dream of publishing a best-selling romance.

  The weekends are spent working out in the garden until the temperature climbs above ninety degrees. Recently, with the help of her husband, she learned to make homemade blueberry and blackberry jam. Cooking is not her favorite past-time and she prefers Don’s cooking any day of the week.

  Currently, she’s written fourteen novels and sold nine. A 1996 Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist, 1995 President of North Texas Romance Writers of America, and the 2012 President-Elect of Dallas Area Romance Authors. You can write to Sylvia at P.O. Box 2542, Coppell, TX 75019 or visit her Web site: http://www.SylviaMcDaniel.com

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  Texas 1874

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