The Twin Switch (Millionaires Legacy Book 13; Gambling Men)

by Barbara Dunlop

  My skin heated and my hormones rushed to life.

  Then Colton whooped, and everybody clapped.

  Brooklyn was married.

  When Colton let her go, I gave her a warm hug. “Congratulations. I love you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m so glad you came.”

  We separated. “So am I. So am I.”

  * * *

  While the photographer worked with Brooklyn and Colton, and the hotel staff set up for dinner, I found my way to the powder room.

  Like everything in the villa, like everything in the entire hotel, the powder room was posh and beautifully appointed.

  I wasted as much time as I could fussing with my hair, washing my hands, rubbing on some wildflower-scented lotion. I had no desire to make small talk before dinner.

  When I left the powder room, I found a door that led to the far end of the patio. The patio was a crescent shape, giving me privacy.

  The sun had gone down, and the lights of the harbor were coming up.

  It was a serene and beautiful sight. I tried to absorb the serenity, but my nerves didn’t want to calm down. They were an insistent jangle of frustration and disappointment.

  I heard footsteps.

  I could tell it was a man.

  I willed them to go away, to stay away, to let me wallow here all by myself.

  I absolutely didn’t want it to be Max.

  It was Max.

  “Don’t make this harder,” I said as he stopped next to me at the rail.

  “Harder than what?”

  “Harder than it has to be. We don’t have to talk. We don’t have to interact.” I kept my gaze focused on the view in front of me.

  “What if I want to interact?”

  I gave a chopped laugh. “I can’t see why you’d want to do that. I’m the one-night stand that was forced to attend your brother’s wedding.”

  “Nobody forced you.” He sounded annoyed.

  “You’re right. I’m here for Brooklyn. I’ll always be there for Brooklyn.”

  “Layla.”

  “Go away.”

  “Look at me.”

  “No.”

  He angled his body to try to get in front of my face.

  I kept my gaze fixed on the view.

  “Why are you being like this?” he asked.

  My nerves were stretched about as far as they could go.

  Max had completely and unequivocally walked away from me. He was indifferent and erratic, and all I could think was that I wanted him.

  I wanted to hug him close. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to make love with him over and over and over again.

  I almost laughed. I was laughing at myself for being so out of control.

  “What’s funny?”

  Nothing—nothing was remotely funny.

  I sobered and looked him in the eyes. “What do you want from me, Max?”

  “What I’ve always wanted from you.”

  “So, sex.”

  He frowned. “No, not sex. Why are you always talking about sex?”

  “That’s what we have together...” I caught myself. “I mean, that’s what we had together.”

  “I don’t want sex,” he all but shouted.

  Then he glanced over his shoulder toward the other end of the patio. He lowered his voice. “Of course I want sex. But I don’t only want sex.”

  “Well, there is the chocolate soufflé, I suppose. But that’s really only good with the sex. At least that’s how I remember it. I mean, when I think about chocolate soufflé.” I was babbling, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “Have you had too much to drink?” he asked.

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “You were there, right?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “I was where, when?”

  “In the church, at your brother’s wedding, when I asked you to come away with me, to be with me, to stay with me.”

  “Did you mean for the weekend?” I asked, my own voice getting louder as I grew angry.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but I didn’t let him.

  “How fast did you find her?” I asked. “Same day? Next day? Did you ask her to come away with you, too?”

  “Who?” Max barked.

  I didn’t seem to care that others might be listening. I knew that was weird. But I didn’t quite know how to stop it. “What do you mean, who?”

  “It’s a one-word question, Layla.”

  “Let me spell out a one-word answer—E-L-L-E-N.” I thought about the spelling for a second. “At least I assume it’s one L. That would be the normal spelling.” I realized too late my dramatic answer would lose some of its oomph if I got the spelling wrong.

  “Ellen?” Max asked.

  “Give the man a prize.”

  “My cousin?”

  I stilled.

  My brain flatlined.

  Ellen was his cousin?

  “Layla,” Max said, his voice echoing in my ears.

  I was mortified. Now there was an emotion for you. I had absolutely no trouble feeling that one.

  “I thought she was your girlfriend.” There was no way I could talk myself out of this corner. The bald truth was my only option.

  Max lowered his voice. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  “I was with you less than a month ago.”

  “You weren’t exactly with me.”

  “What would you call it? And don’t you dare say it was a one-night stand.”

  I struggled for the right words. “Well, we’d called it quits in Vegas.”

  “You walked away in Vegas. I came after you.”

  I shook my head. That wasn’t exactly what had happened. “Colton came after Brooklyn. You were with him.”

  Max took my hand.

  I knew I should pull away, but for the life of me, I didn’t have the strength.

  “Colton might have come after Brooklyn. But I came after you. My brother is perfectly capable of kidnapping a bride all on his own. He didn’t need my help.” Max paused. “I came after you, and you turned me down flat.”

  I remembered his expression all over again. “I...”

  He waited. “You told me to go, in no uncertain terms.”

  He was right. I had done that.

  “I didn’t mean forever,” I said.

  This time it was Max who went still. He drew a deep breath. “It sounded like you meant forever.”

  “I couldn’t leave my family then.”

  I realized I could leave them now.

  It would be tough, and it would take them a while to get over it, and maybe it wasn’t the smartest, most logical thing for me to do. After all, I hadn’t known Max very long, and what we had might or might not last. I might be hurting my brother and my parents over something that wasn’t even going to last.

  But this was too important.

  I was in love with Max.

  It was another emotion that was perfectly clear to me. Two in one day, how about that?

  “I love you,” I said.

  It was a stupid thing to say out loud, especially under the circumstances, and especially since he hadn’t said it first, and because it laid me bare and vulnerable. But the odd thing was I didn’t care.

  “Not as much as I love you,” he said.

  My heart all but shouted with joy. I made a last-ditch fight for logic. “You can’t know yours is more.”

  “I loved you first,” he said. “That makes mine more.”

  “You can’t know you were first.”

  He moved his mouth toward mine. “I don’t care.” He drew closer and closer.

  It wasn’t a contest. It wasn’t—

 
He kissed me, and my world lit up with love and joy, excitement and hope.

  It was a long time before we moved a few inches apart.

  “Neither do I,” I whispered to him.

  “There you are.” It was Brooklyn. “Quit ruining Layla’s makeup and get in here for the pictures.”

  Max grinned.

  “She doesn’t seem surprised,” I said.

  “She’s been with us for a month. She knows how I feel.”

  I gave Brooklyn a reproachful look.

  She grinned like she didn’t care.

  Max put a hand on the small of my back, urging me toward the door.

  “Some best friend you are,” I said to Brooklyn.

  “I didn’t want to push,” she said.

  “This time you don’t want to push?” Brooklyn had been talking me into outlandish things since grade school.

  She turned serious. “You had to figure it out for yourself. I couldn’t afford to be wrong.”

  I realized in that moment that she was smarter than me. I’d tried to push her in the wrong direction and nearly ruined everyone’s lives.

  She went ahead of us, joining Colton in the living room.

  Max raised my hand to his lips and put a featherlight kiss on my knuckles.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  He gave a contented smile. “Now, we have dinner with my family, then wedding cake, then my suite and then chocolate soufflé.”

  My heart seemed to bloom inside my chest. “I do love chocolate soufflé.”

  * * *

  When I pictured my wedding—and I’d pictured it a lot over the years—I imagined a long white dress, a flowing train, maybe a nod to a veil, nothing covering my face, but a bit of gauze and lace streaming from my hair. And the flowers, I loved a wildflower bouquet: daisies and primroses, violets and cornflowers. I pictured greens and colors in a messy bundle, maybe tied with ribbon instead of arranged into a plastic handle.

  It would be at St. Fidelis’s, our family church, which was big enough to hold all the friends and relatives that would come to celebrate. I wanted a rehearsal dinner at the tennis club—it had a magnificent view of the harbor.

  And the reception, ah, the reception. There were three possible hotels in the downtown area. I’d thought I’d tour them and make my choice. There’d be a nice dinner, a band, dancing and a huge cake, maybe five tiers, but not a fruitcake. I wanted people to enjoy eating the cake. Vanilla pound cake, maybe, or something layered with puff pastry, buttercream icing for sure. I absolutely adored buttercream icing.

  In all those years, in all my musings, I’d never once pictured myself getting married in Vegas.

  Don’t get me wrong, an Elvis chapel might be right for some people, but it wasn’t what I had pictured. We were set up in a wonderful corner of the atrium at the Canterbury Sands. It was tasteful and beautiful and, it turns out, everything I really wanted in a wedding. Because all I really wanted was Max.

  Brooklyn was here, but she was the only person from my side.

  I knew my eloping would upset my family. But I didn’t know how to do this without upsetting my family. A Seattle wedding, even a small one, where I married Colton’s brother would be unthinkable. A big wedding was completely out of the question.

  September was coming fast, and Max and I were absolutely sure about our future. I wasn’t going back to teaching at North Hill High, and I couldn’t imagine telling my family I was quitting my job and moving in with Max without marrying him.

  So here we were.

  I’d call them later tonight and give them the good news. At least I’d act like it was good news. It was good news to me. I couldn’t be happier.

  We were on a small patio, near the babbling brook, beneath the palms and mesquites and amongst the cacti and wildflowers blooming in the gardens.

  I’d gone with a simple white dress, knee-length, with a scooped neckline and wide shoulder straps, with just a hint of eyelet in the breezy cotton fabric. But I had my wildflower bouquet and some really awesome shoes, white and jeweled with high, high heels. I only had to stand in them for thirty minutes or so.

  “When you know, you know,” Brooklyn whispered to me in an I-told-you-so tone.

  I’d give her that one. She had told me so.

  “I know,” I said back.

  “I know you know,” she said with a grin. “Now, look.” She nodded her head.

  I looked down the pathway expecting to see Max and Colton. His parents were already here, as was the reverend who had married Brooklyn and Colton.

  To my surprise, I saw Nat and Sophie.

  I think I gave a gasp because Brooklyn laughed at me.

  “How did you...?”

  “Brooklyn told us,” Nat called out. “There was no way we were missing this.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I said to both of them.

  “I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell us,” Sophie said.

  “You know it’s—” I spotted James—my brother, James—coming down the pathway.

  Shock didn’t begin to describe my reaction. Then my reaction turned to fear.

  How was he here? Why was he here? What was he going to do?

  “Hi, Layla,” he said. He sounded calm, like the old James—the James-who-wasn’t-so-angry-at-me-that-he’d-never-get-over-it James.

  “I don’t understand.” I didn’t.

  “Brooklyn called me,” he said.

  I sought out Brooklyn again, not bothering to disguise my astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

  “They’re your family,” Brooklyn said.

  At that very second, I saw my parents.

  They were smiling, and looked for all the world as if this were a perfectly normal wedding.

  My mom pulled me into a hug. “It’s not your fault,” she said and held me tight.

  My dad hugged me next.

  Then I stepped back to take in everyone.

  “We’re all happy for you,” James said.

  I watched his expression closely, not quite trusting it, worried about what would happen when Colton arrived with Max.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  His gaze slid to Brooklyn. “This is weird,” he said.

  “I’ll say it’s weird.” My brain was scrambling to take it all in.

  “I’ll manage,” he said. “And I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry I said those things.”

  I had to ask. “Did you really feel that way?”

  James shrugged. “Sometimes. But looking back... Clearly, as they say, it wasn’t you. It was me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  My mom reached for my hand. “This is your day, honey. Don’t you worry about anything else.”

  Max and Colton came around the corner from Max’s suite patio.

  They both stopped dead and stared at my family.

  Colton saw James and a muscle ticked in his cheek.

  “You didn’t tell them?” I asked Brooklyn.

  “I was worried they’d be worried.”

  A few seconds slipped past in silence.

  It was my dad who stepped up, walking toward Max and Colton, holding out his hand to Max.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said. “I’m Al Gillen.”

  “Max Kendrick.” Max shook his hand. His expression remained wary.

  “I understand you’re marrying my daughter.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  My dad looked around the garden. “I can’t say this was what I was expecting.”

  “In a wedding?” Max asked.

  “In a Vegas wedding,” my dad answered. “It’s nice here. It’s really nice.”

  Max caught my gaze. He looked as
confused as I felt.

  “Brooklyn invited everyone,” I said.

  Colton’s eyebrows went up, and he quickly sought out Brooklyn.

  Brooklyn gave her best sparkly, love-me smile. “Everyone is happy for Layla. And everyone is happy for Max.” She took my hand. “Let’s do this. We can finish the introductions later.”

  Max was already moving to my side.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as we positioned ourselves in front of the white vine-entwined arch.

  “I’m pretty stunned,” I said.

  “And your brother?”

  I gave a glance to James. He was staying well away from Colton, but otherwise he looked like he was handling it.

  “It must have been his decision to come.”

  Max squeezed my hand. “I’m glad. I’m really glad your family is here.”

  “So am I.” For a second I had to fight a tear of joy.

  “They love you,” Max said. “And I love you.”

  “This is a good beginning,” I said, facing the reverend, seeing my life with Max flowing out like a pathway in front of me.

  Brooklyn would be in our lives, and Colton would be in our lives, and our families would be there to support us.

  In time, James’s broken heart would heal. This was the start of that, too.

  “Family and friends,” the reverend began. “We’re gathered here to celebrate a day of happiness.”

  Max put an arm around me and pulled me to him.

  I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling his steadiness and strength, knowing deep in my soul my decision was right. Our happiness was going to last forever.

  * * *

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