The Right Twin (Times Two Book 2)

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The Right Twin (Times Two Book 2) Page 10

by Laura Marie Altom


  “I say,” Mr. Helsing said, as the teen removed appetizer plates to a side table and then delivered amazingly intricate miniature edible Oriental gardens arranged on square black plates. “Would you mind telling us why the kitchen window has been covered?”

  “I really shouldn’t,” the girl said, nearly knocking over Heath’s water in her apparent haste to get away.

  Okay. Weird but probably a teen thing.

  Choosing to ignore the waitstaff and admire his meal, Heath was blown away all over again by Sadie’s culinary skill. Was there no end to what the woman could do?

  The mini gardens even had “benches” that were some kind of sushi roll.

  Talk about lighting the fuse on what was probably a nonissue, but the teen waitress’s refusal to answer had everyone at the table buzzing. Everyone, that is, aside from Heath, who was too busy munching to care about anything else.

  For the sake of Hale’s review, he supposed he should care, but he knew Sadie. She was the consummate professional. As such, he had complete faith in her to always do the right thing.

  “E-EXCUSE ME,” SARAH said to Dahlia, more thrilled than ever that her sister had reminded her to recover the kitchen window. “But what exactly are you doing?”

  The chef stopped humming and dancing in a tight circle as she gazed skyward—or at least ceilingward. “Do you mind? I need solitude during the food-blessing ceremony.”

  “Oh—so you’re just saying a little prayer before dinner?” Sounded reasonable. “You know, like blessing the diners so they have a safe journey home?”

  Dahlia shot her a wide-eyed look of incredulity. “It’s not the diners who need a prayer but the collective souls of the foods that are about to be eaten. Sacrificed for the nourishment of those who partake.”

  Speechless, Sarah curtly nodded. Okay. The sooner this night ended, the better.

  Two grueling hours later, Sarah had paid Dahlia Sky and sent her on her way. Then she and Coco restored the kitchen’s usual order.

  “Sure you don’t need me to do anything else?” Coco asked, slipping the last of the saucepans back under a gleaming stainless-steel counter.

  “Thanks for the offer, sweetie, but you go on ahead. It’s been a long day. You’ve got to be beat.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But even though it’s hard work, it’s always fun.”

  “Really?” Sarah’s eyebrows shot up. “You think all this kitchen work and cleaning is actually enjoyable?”

  “Sadie says it’s a blessing to be able to serve others. You know, to make people happy and content.” A wistful look overtaking her expression, the teen added, “When I grow up, I want to be just like Sadie. She’s awesome.” As if just now getting the gist of what she’d said, she tagged on, “You’re awesome, too, Sarah. Just in a different way.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Sarah gave the girl a playful swat with her dishrag, then sent her home. It was cool that Sadie had groupies. She deserved them.

  The more Sarah was around this place, the more appreciation she had for her sister. Sadie and her staff worked astonishingly hard to maintain this level of perfection. It was Sarah’s fervent prayer that she didn’t blow it for all those who believed so deeply in the inn’s mission to nurture the spirits of its guests.

  Blessedly alone, though laughter could faintly be heard floating in from the lounge, Sarah drank in a deep breath.

  Whew. She still hadn’t claimed victory in the weekend-long war, but at least the latest battle had been won.

  Or so Sarah hoped.

  Surely the reviewer had been pleased by the meal? Chef Dahlia might’ve been a little out there, but she knew what she was doing when it came to edible garden construction! Better yet, the few peeks Sarah had taken into the dining room during dinner had shown her that Shane was as uninterested in Gretchen as she was in him.

  Not that Sarah had been jealous of the brunette who was lucky enough to have been seated beside him all evening.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she’d been jealous.

  If it hadn’t been for her promise to Sadie, it could have been Sarah next to him. But now she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get the chance to meet him again—for the first time. As herself, instead of her twin.

  Seeing how Craig Stevens, the bartender that Sadie hired for her busy Saturday nights, was on duty till midnight, Sarah toyed with the notion of getting away. She’d just get in her car and drive and drive until thoughts of Greg and Sadie and Shane and her worries about how she was going to pull off the preparation of the guests’ late-night snacks, let alone breakfast, washed away.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw she only had about an hour until she’d need to get started on Sadie’s trademark bedtime chocolate-chip cookies. But until then, she’d indulge herself in doing exactly what she wanted to do.

  Sort of.

  For if she did what she really wanted to, that would include Shane and more kissing. An activity that was strictly off-limits.

  Snatching her purse and keys from a hook on the wall, Sarah opened the back door, stepping into the warm, fragrant night. Even as she told herself that escaping the inn would clear her mind of Shane’s piercing gaze, his devastatingly sexy grin, his way of making her feel beyond special—as if she were the only woman in the room—she knew it was a lie.

  She could run. Hide. Drive all night and into the next day. But even after all of that, one fact would be abundantly clear.

  Her burning attraction for Shane Peters was here to stay.

  Chapter Nine

  In fading daylight, Sarah crunched down the gravel path that led to the detached garage holding her escape vehicle. A black 2003 low-mileage Jag XK8 she’d bought from a client-turned-friend when he’d upgraded to a newer model.

  Teeth gritted, she hoisted up the old-fashioned garage door, wishing her twin would spring for a pushbutton opener.

  “Nice ride,” said an achingly familiar masculine voice from behind her.

  She jumped. “Shane. What’re you doing out here?”

  “I’d planned on talking to you, but it seems like you have better plans.”

  “Better than talking to you?” she teased. “What could possibly top that?”

  “My thoughts exactly.” His expression showed him to be in a playful mood. If only she were allowed to feel the same.

  From the forest beyond the lake, an owl hooted. In a neighbor’s pasture, a horse softly whinnied. The killer swans must have already bedded down for the night.

  “Seriously,” he asked, “where are you headed? You look upset.”

  “How do you know me well enough to judge?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t—you tell me.”

  Unfortunately he’d nailed her pensive frame of mind. With luck, though, he wouldn’t realize that the cause of her consternation had only a little to do with the inn and a lot to do with him.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’m, uh, nervous about the review.” Not entirely untrue. Sadie had a lot riding on Gretchen Oliver’s opinion. “I’ve got some downtime and I thought it’d feel good to get out of here for a few minutes. You know, drive out the cobwebs.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. Mind if I tag along?”

  “If you want.” Only, she didn’t want. Did the man have no idea what the mere sight of him did to her? Her stomach tightened with long-denied needs, and her lips tingled from wanting another kiss. Even holding hands with him would be such a welcome experience. Knowing that she was not alone in the world.

  Sure, she had Sadie, but her twin was absurdly busy. She led a full life of her own. And Sarah was far too old to be running to her parents anymore.

  “Great. Got a destination in mind?”

  “Nope,” she admitted. “Just away from here.”

  In the shadows, a mask slipped over his face. Had even that short statement been too revealing in terms of her true thoughts about the inn?

  Unable to take back the words, she dismissed them and clicked open the vehicle’s automatic locks
.

  “Nice ride.”

  “Thanks.”

  “This afternoon, with you parked at the opposite end of the block, I didn’t get a good look, but now I’m thinking we should’ve taken your car antiquing.”

  “There’s always tomorrow,” she said.

  “You mean you’d have time?”

  “Probably not,” she countered. “That was just a figure of speech. But surely sometime I will. Have time, that is.” She grinned.

  His look was unreadable, so she hedged the awkward moment by climbing in.

  Heath followed.

  After taking a moment to appreciate the peaceful effect of the sumptuous black leather seats, Sarah reminded herself of who she was and where she was going. This was just one weekend. Come Monday morning, she’d again be the office whiz kid. At ease with her coworkers and the world. Gone would be the bitter taste of her lies to Shane, as well as the awareness of her barely competent handling of her sister’s inn.

  Slipping the key into the ignition, she fired up the powerful engine.

  “It occurs to me,” Heath said as Sarah backed out of the garage, then straightened the wheel to glide down the blacktop lane past the house, “that for normally smiling you to be in such a contemplative mood, that the reviewer’s presence must be affecting you more than you let on.”

  “Like I have stage fright?” She shot him a questioning look, hating the way her stomach tightened pleasurably at the view. The sky behind him was awash with orange, and he was a dark enigma in the shadows.

  “Exactly. Which I assume was the reasoning behind you blocking out the kitchen window. Only, seeing how I’ve now had the pleasure of two nights and a number of meals at your fine establishment, I know you have nothing to fear. Even if you think the kitchen wasn’t quite up to your customary level of perfection, I know that if the, uh, woman has half a brain, she’ll give you a great review. Meaning, you don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  She laughed. “Oh, but I do.” If she blew her sister’s chance at that coveted five-spoon rating, Sadie’d roast her for dinner. Thank goodness Shane had assumed the window being covered was simply about vanity, rather than about hiding a substitute chef!

  The scenery had changed from pastoral countryside to typical small-town, with a strip mall, convenience store and fast-food sprawl. Heath said, “I didn’t realize Winchester was this big.”

  “You mean this urban, instead of just being quaint?”

  “I was trying to be polite.”

  Sarah also figured that he was trying to change the subject. Bless him. “The actual town is charming, near the antique stores we hit this afternoon. Lots of red brick with lovely old Queen Anne homes and towering oaks. The original drugstore is still open. It used to be quite the hangout in its day. Tons of celebrities have their autographed pictures on the walls. If you get the chance, it’s worth a trip for one of their malts or Coke floats. Or just to buy a pack of gum from the counter and soak up the ambience.”

  “Sounds delicious—gum, malts and atmosphere. Wanna go?”

  “You mean like now? This late, they’re closed.”

  “Not this second. Tomorrow. We could make a day of it. Hit a few of the antique stores that we missed today, then have soda-fountain fare for lunch. You can drive.” He winked.

  “I’d like that.” Pulling into the deserted lot of a small park, she turned off the engine. More than he’d ever know, she’d like to go on the date. “But there’s that pesky little issue of my professionalism hanging between us. What if that reviewer found out? Even about all the time we’ve already shared? I mean, I’m no expert, but ethically would it be right for us to hang out even more?”

  “Don’t have a clue.” He sighed and shook his head. “Trouble is, I’ve got this problem.”

  “What?” Her pulse was racing again, only this time—to judge by his suddenly “serious” tone—for pleasurable reasons.

  “The more I’m with you, the more I want to know you—way beyond what you’re serving for the next meal. Trust me, more than anyone, I know how wrong my admitting this must seem. I know, after what you’ve been through with your ex, you’re probably wondering if I come on to every beautiful innkeeper. But please, Sadie, you’ve got to believe me. What I’m feeling for you is…” A harsh laugh spilled from his lips. “Never mind. I’m treading on dangerous ground and should just—”

  “What, Shane?” Sarah couldn’t help but ask. “What is it you were about to say?” Because if it was in any way an admission along the lines of mine—that ever since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve been unable to get forbidden images of you out of my head—then by all means, go ahead and say it.

  “Only that…” In the last burnished rays of sun, he leaned closer. “In case you didn’t know it, not only are you a great cook but you’re gorgeous.”

  “Th-thank you.” So are you, Shane Peters. Which made the conversation all the more improper in light of certain promises she’d made her twin.

  “One more thing—I want to kiss you again. Bad. What do you think?”

  “About your urge?” she asked in a voice so low and husky and brimming with the same sudden all-consuming urge that she barely recognized it as her own. “Or about the kiss?”

  “Either? Both?” He’d leaned closer still. And so had she. The car’s interior was hot. Her crazy attraction for him hotter. Though she knew she was playing with fire even just flirting with the man—especially when back at the inn there was a woman who held her sister’s life in her hands—Sarah couldn’t help herself.

  The guy appealed to her.

  Not just with his striking good looks but with the way he’d preserved her sanity.

  The whole weekend long, in running her sister’s high-maintenance inn, Sarah had felt like a fish out of water. But Shane, with his funny, warm ways, had turned a potential nightmare into a grand adventure. Whether he’d been helping her with a toppling stack of towels or saving her from what had surely been a woman-eating snapping turtle, in a very short time the guy had begun to mean something to her. Even more meaningful was the fact that he’d survived a broken heart, as well, yet had lived not just to tell about it but to thrive. Now relishing the simple pleasures of a day spent fishing and antiquing and, then maybe tomorrow slurping old-fashioned soda-fountain malts.

  “I, um…” She licked her lips. “Forgot the question.”

  “In a roundabout way, I asked if you thought it’d be all right if we kissed.”

  “Right. Now I remember.”

  A hint of a smile played across his lips. “Then you think it would be wise? The kiss?”

  He leaned closer.

  “No,” she said in a breathy whisper.

  She leaned closer still.

  All that remained between their lips was a sliver of supercharged air. A mingling of warm breath. Oh—and those thousands of reasons why they shouldn’t kiss, even though it would be so easy and would feel so right.

  After what she’d been through with Greg, getting to know Shane better wouldn’t be finding just a soft spot to fall but a place to grow. She could learn to feel and laugh and enjoy life again. With Shane, the gaping wound in her heart could finally begin to heal. Above all, Shane was honest—a fact he’d proven that afternoon by something as simple as saving her from buying that goofy, unflattering hat.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling back just as she’d been on the verge of lunging forward. “It’s obvious that you feel uncomfortable about us being together.”

  Was it? Because never in her life had she fought such an achy yearning. She wanted everything from this man. His kiss. His touch. His friendship. And maybe, just maybe, if he could ever bring himself to forgive her once he’d learned the depths of her lies, they’d one day share so much more.

  “What’re you thinking?” he asked.

  “Truthfully,” she said, drumming her fingers against the wheel, “I was just thinking about the past for a minute. And wondering why even though I promised myself I’d never
, ever fall fast and hard for another man again, I seem to be doing just that.”

  “Is that an admission that I’m not the only one fighting this thing between us?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Tell you what.” He cupped his big hand against her cheek and she leaned into the touch, meeting his penetrating gaze as she did. “For now, until the inn’s reviewed—but more importantly until you feel ready—let’s table this. After that, fair warning, Sadie Connelly. Prepare to be wooed.”

  WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? Heath couldn’t help but think as he unloaded the last of the inn’s forks, knives and spoons from a commercial dishwasher. His brother would certainly never help out like this—at least Heath sure didn’t think so.

  The crotchety overnight gang had been plied with drinks by Sadie’s capable bartender, and Sarah was upstairs, doling out late-night liqueurs and warm chocolate-chip cookies Heath had seen her take from the oven, beautifully browned.

  What he’d also seen, however, were telltale signs of packaging that made him think the legendary cookies were store-bought. The blue-and-white wrappings had been shoved deep into the trash, and the only reason he’d even found them was that he’d seen the overflowing can and offered to take it out. In the process of tying the bag, the whole thing tipped, spilling trash and secrets.

  Now, Heath was all for store-bought baked goods. No way he’d ever bake anything from scratch for himself. But Sadie advertised fresh homemade cookies each night for her guests. He’d sampled them the night before and they’d been delicious. The fact that she’d lied about what should’ve been—for her, anyway—no big deal, made him wonder.

  Clearly, she’d lied. But she’d also gifted him with one of the hottest near kisses he’d ever had.

  Tess had been an immediate turn-on for Heath. She’d been wild in bed, which was probably one of the reasons he’d been blindsided by her treachery. And he’d sworn to never again let a woman get under his skin in that way. Tess had been like slow-acting poison—only never had dying felt so good, at least until he’d discovered his prize game design had been sold out from under him.

  Fast-forward to the present, and he found himself in the untenable position of being fiercely attracted to Sadie. She was gorgeous, smart, talented and funny, but it troubled him to think this might be one more in a series of chinks in her innkeeper’s armor.

 

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