Big Bad Twins

by Tia Siren

  The bright light of the day caught my attention when the front door opened and closed. I wiped my hands between a bar rag and watched the three men stand at the door for a moment, looking for a table. I recognized the first man as Bob Beecher, a retired gas company engineer who sometimes fished with my dad. The two men with him were strangers.

  I could tell right away that they were identical twins. They were both tall, six two or three, with short dark hair and deep-set eyes that were scanning the room for a place to sit.

  They were lean and muscled, wearing matching black polo shirts with the head of a wolf embroidered in gold over the pocket.

  The thickness of their chests and shoulders hinted that they were athletes. Maybe they were a couple of football players from New Orleans who’d heard about daddy’s cooking and come to check it out.

  Their narrow waists tapered into tight jeans that hugged their hips and showed off what the good Lord had given them.

  I plucked three menus from a rack on the counter and watched them make their way to an empty table in the corner. I hummed my approval. The backs of their jeans looked as good as the front. If they were football players, they were tight ends…

  I felt something spark deep inside me, like a pilot light that had been out for a long time was now trying to come back to life on its own.

  My breasts tingled in my bra.

  I felt a warmth…down there…

  A warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Interesting…

  I picked up an empty tray and a damp rag from behind the counter. Then I went over to welcome them to Robicheaux’s.

  CHAPTER 4: Terry Wolf

  The diner was hot and crowded. The place was also small, with barely enough room for a ten-stool lunch counter and a dozen or so tables.

  Every stool and chair was taken by rednecks stuffing crawfish and gumbo into their mouths and washing it down with tall glasses of beer.

  The air inside seemed as thick and stale as the air outside. I started to tell Tony that he could meet with the guy about whatever the thing was while I took the Rover and found a nicer place to eat that had air conditioning.

  Then I saw the redhead standing behind the lunch counter staring at us. The old Wolf radar started pinging like a submarine. I could feel the pulse of it in my balls. Tony felt it, too. He gave me a sideways glance and smiled.

  “There’s a table coming empty,” Beecher said in a thick Cajun accent. He was a short, older man with thinning white hair and thick glasses. He was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and a black tie that hung lopsided off his neck. According to Tony, the guy was a bona fide genius, like some rocket scientist of the bayou.

  Beecher started toward a table in the corner while everyone in the place turned to look at us. They all knew Beecher. It took us a minute to get to the table because he had to stop every few feet to shake someone’s hand and talk about how fucking hot it was outside.

  “I can’t believe the shit you drag me into,” I whispered to the back of Tony’s head.

  “Relax,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Did you see the redhead at the counter?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, put on a smile and be nice,” he said. “Remember, money and pussy.”

  “Trust me, that’s all I’m thinking about,” I said. We wedged our way into chairs around the little table, which was covered with the dirty dishes and leftovers of the previous occupants. I winced at the sight. It looked like a table full of dog scraps.

  “Hi, Bob,” the redhead from the counter said, appearing just as we sat down.

  “Hi, Danny,” Bob said with a smile. “How you doing? Your daddy here?”

  “In the kitchen, like always.” She was carrying a tray. She stacked the dirty dishes on it and swirled a damp rag over the table. She passed out one-page, homemade menus and smiled at us. “Let me clear these dishes away, and then I’ll get your orders.”

  “Who is that?” I asked, watching her walk away. She was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her round ass and hips like a second skin. The red hair flowed halfway down her back and bounced when she walked.

  “That’s Danny Robicheaux,” Bob said. “She owns the place. Her daddy used to own it, but now he’s the cook. Amazing what that man can do with a crawfish. Do you boys like crawfish?”

  “I like redheads,” I said absently. Tony poked an elbow in my side.

  “I love Cajun food,” my brother said. “My brother is more of a steak and lobster kind of guy.”

  “Well, you’ll love this place then,” Bob said. “Best Cajun food in the state, far as I’m concerned.”

  The redhead returned with an order pad in one hand and a pen in the other. When she smiled at me, I had to keep my mouth from drooping open.

  Now, let me be clear.

  My brother and I had travelled all over the world and we had both had our share of beautiful women.

  Some I had.

  Some he had.

  Some we had together.

  But I had never seen a bluer pair of eyes than the ones that were looking at me now. Or a set of boobs that did to a white T-shirt what her boobs were doing. Or a face that was as naturally pretty. If she was wearing makeup, I couldn’t see it.

  When I looked at her I could feel little bolts of lightning shooting through my balls.

  Tony called it our Wolf Sense.

  She held the pen at the ready and let her eyebrows go up.

  “So, boys, what would you like?”

  I would like you, I thought.

  Naked.

  On this table.

  With your legs spread.

  Right now.

  Tony nudged me with his elbow again. “Order.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I said, shaking the image of her naked body from my mind. I licked my lips. I could almost taste her. “Uh, I’ll just have a small gumbo and a beer.”

  “That’s it?” Bob asked. “You come all this way and you’re gonna just have a small gumbo?”

  Tony plucked the menus from our hands and tapped them on the table between his fingers. He looked up at her and smiled. That bastard. We had the same face, but he used it so much better than I did.

  “What was your name, miss?” he asked politely.

  “Danny Robicheaux,” she said. “Well, Danielle, but you can call me Danny. I’m the owner.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Danny. I’m Tony Wolf and this is my brother, Terry.”

  Bob chimed in like we were old pals. “These are the Wolf boys from New York City, Danny,” he said proudly, like he was presenting us at a coming out party. “Personal friends of mine.”

  Tony glanced at Bob and gave his head a little shake. “Obviously, you already know Bob.”

  He held out the menus to her. She clipped her fingers onto the end of the menus closest to her. Tony didn’t let go of his end. It looked like they were about to play tug-of-war.

  He said, “Can we just get three of everything to eat and a pitcher of draft?”

  “Three of everything and a pitcher of draft,” she said, tugging the menus loose from his fingers.

  “Don’t you need to write that down?” I asked with a playful smirk.

  “I think I can remember that,” she said. Her eyes lingered on my face for a moment, and then she glanced Tony’s way. She didn’t give Bob another thought.

  She tapped the menus on the table and said, “Coming right up.”

  CHAPTER 5: Danielle

  The Wolf brothers sat with Bob at the corner table for the better part of two hours. I took them three of everything, as requested, and then brought them three more. They devoured it all like starving dogs and asked for more.

  Watching them eat was…sexy.

  I wondered if they did everything with such abandon and passion.

  I wondered if they’d like a Danny sandwich…

  I shook my head and looked away from them. Where in the world had that thought come from? That wasn’t like me. Or maybe it was. Mayb
e I had the ability to think dirty thoughts and fantasize about gorgeous men; I just didn’t get much of a chance to let that particular part of my brain run free in Bellegrade.

  There was no denying that the Wolf twins were the sexiest men I’d ever seen that weren’t in a magazine or on a movie screen.

  When they looked at me I got the feeling that they were picturing me naked. Bent over. Panting. I felt the need to squeeze my thighs together and hide the blush on my cheeks.

  Maybe that was what had my brain dipping its toe in the gutter. There was something about the way they looked at me that made my insides tingle. I hadn’t felt this way since the last time Davy looked into my eyes the night before he left town.

  The twin who had just wanted gumbo ate more than the other two. I got the impression this was his first foray into real Cajun cuisine, and once he got a taste of it, he found it hard to quit.

  I wanted to tell him it was that way with Cajun women, too, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t dare flirt in front of Bob. My dad said he was some kind of mechanical genius. All I knew for a fact was that he had the biggest mouth in Bellegrade and loved to gossip more than the old biddies at the Baptist church. I’d never give him a reason to start spreading trash about me.

  The lunch crowd had filtered out and I was wiping down the counter when one of the brothers slid onto a stool and cleared his throat to get my attention.

  “Which one you are?” I asked with a grin. “Tommy or Timmy?”

  “Terry, the one who wanted just gumbo,” he said. His brown eyes sparkled when he smiled. I felt that little tingle in my lady-box again. I squeezed my thighs together and forced a smile.

  “Well, it certainly looked like you enjoyed it all once you tried it.” I casually wiped crumbs off the counter between us and shook out the rag. It was my version of playing it cool. I folded the rag and set it on the counter. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “I’ve been put in charge of paying the check,” he said.

  “Ah, my favorite part,” I said, picking up the order pad to tally the check. I tore off the check and slid it toward him. I drummed my fingers on it for a moment. “Wish you boys would come in every day and eat like that. We could sure use the business.”

  He looked around the empty diner. “Things are slow?”

  “This is Bellegrade,” I said. “It’s always slow. Slower now that the rigs aren’t hiring like they used to since BP pulled out.”

  He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yeah, that Deepwater Horizon thing.”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “You’d think somebody would come up with a way to prevent that from happening,” he said as he reached for the check before I pulled back my hand. His hand covered mine and our eyes locked. Whether he did it by accident or on purpose, I didn’t know. Whichever it was, I didn’t pull my hand away.

  “Can I see you later?” he asked.

  I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Can I see you later?”

  I gave him the frown I usually reserved for customers who asked for another week’s credit on their bill. “Are you asking me out, Tommy?”

  “Terry.” He smiled. I tingled again. “And yes, I am asking you out.”

  He lifted his fingers and I slid my hand from beneath his. My hand was warm from his brief touch. I folded my arms over my breasts and gave him a tentative look.

  “I don’t go out with strangers,” I said.

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re not strangers,” he said, picking up the check and barely giving the amount a glance. “You ever know a stranger with the name Terry Wolf?”

  I smiled at him. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Well, there you go. We’re not strangers.”

  He dug into the back pocket of his tight jeans and brought out a thick wad of folded bills in a gold money clip. He peeled off two one-hundred-dollar bills and set them on the counter to cover the fifty-dollar check.

  He nodded at his brother, who was listening to Bob explain something on a map of the Gulf he had spread out on the table.

  He said, “It looks like we’re going to be in town longer than we thought looking at some invention Bob is working on. Tony is going out on a boat with Bob tonight and I get seasick, so I’ll be all alone.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let me guess, you hate to be in the big city all alone.”

  “I do,” he said, pooching out his bottom lip like a little kid asking for a piece of candy. “So, what do you say?”

  I gave him a thoughtful look for a moment. “There’s really not much to do here except drive around or go to the lake.”

  “Then we’ll drive around and go to the lake,” he said with nod that seemed to settle things in his mind. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. It looked expensive.

  He asked, “What time do you get off?’

  I picked up the two hundred- dollars and rang up the ticket on the old cash register on the counter. I didn’t refuse the big tip. We weren’t making enough money to be prideful. I put both bills in the till and closed the drawer.

  I frowned playfully. “Did you just ask what time I get off?”

  “I suppose I did,” he said with a smile. “I meant to ask, what time do you get off work?”

  “I have to be here for the dinner rush,” I said with a sigh, like being asked out by someone who looked like him happened every day. Shit, in Bellegrade, good-looking men were like Bigfoot: you heard tales about them, but there was no concrete evidence one ever existed. At least not since Davy left town.

  The little voice in my head said, fuck it…go for it…

  “I can probably leave around eight o’clock,” I said.

  “Perfect,” he said, sliding off the stool. “Should I pick you up here or at your place?”

  I nodded toward the front door. “Seeing as how I live in that trailer park right across the road, I can run home and get the smell of gumbo out of my hair and meet you back here. Pick me up at eight thirty?”

  “Eight thirty it is,” he said happily, as if I’d just made his day.

  I knew better.

  He struck me as a man whose day was made the moment his feet hit the floor in the morning.

  He went back to sit with his clone and Bob while I went into the kitchen to wash dishes and wonder where the night would lead.

  CHAPTER 6: Danielle

  I should have known better than to tell Terry Wolf to pick me up at the diner for our non-date. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I just remembered staring into his brown eyes and agreeing to go.

  I knew what I wasn’t thinking.

  I wasn’t thinking about my dad being there.

  Or my ex, Randy, who came in every night for the dinner and beers he would never pay for. I didn’t even bother putting it on his tab anymore. Randy and my dad were still big fishing buddies. I didn’t have to stay married to Randy, but Dad wasn’t going to let a pal starve just because I couldn’t put up with his shit and he was too cheap to pay his tab.

  When I came back into the diner wearing a pair of loose-fitting khaki shorts, a black New Orleans Saints T-shirt, and flip flops, everyone glanced my way. I had my hair pulled back on the sides and clipped above my ears, and I had put on just enough makeup to make myself presentable.

  The regulars, who were used to seeing me in jeans and a Cajun Diner T-shirt, looked at me as if I’d just landed on the planet.

  Randy narrowed his eyes at me and grunted. “What the heck are you all dolled up for?” he asked as I came around the counter. He was in his usual seat at the end of the counter with a half-eaten bowl of gumbo and an empty beer glass in front of him. I was feeling charitable, so I refilled his glass and slid it toward him.

  “What I do is none of your business,” I said, watching the front door for Terry.

  “She has a date,” my dad said. He was standing at the pass-through with his hairy harms folded on the ledge. He had a spatula in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Tell him. You got a da
te.”

  “It’s not a date,” I said, making a show of rolling my eyes. I wasn’t sure why I played it down in front of Randy. We’d been divorced for a while and he’d been out with every available woman in Bellegrade (the word “picky” was not in Randy’s vocabulary), but I guessed you never wanted your ex to know your business. At least I didn’t.

  “What is it then if it’s not a date?” Dad asked.

  “I’m showing a friend around town,” I said, shrugging off the notion that it was anything more.

  “What friend?” Randy asked. He snorted a laugh. “And what the hell is there to show anybody around here?”

  “You don’t know him,” I said. “He’s just passing through, so don’t concern yourself with my business.”

  “He’s one of those rich guys that was here talking to Bob about his invention,” Dad said. I turned to give him a look that he completely ignored. “Bob says there’s two of them. Twins. Billionaires. Got more money than they know what to do with.”

  “Bullshit,” Randy growled. “What would two billionaires be doing talking to Bob Beecher?”

  “Bob’s a smart feller,” Dad said, scratching his chin. He stuck the cigarette between his teeth and tapped the spatula on the ledge. It gave a resounding metal clang. “Bob says those boys are gonna give him a million dollars for his idea. He’s gonna buy a new boat and sail off into the sunset.”

  “Bullshit,” Randy said again, scowling. He picked up his beer glass and swept his eyes up and down my body. “You look good, Danny. I’ll give you that.”

  “Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile as I waited for what I knew was coming next.

  “Hell, if you wanna go out sometime, I’d be glad to take you.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “We could drive down the causeway to Nawlins for the weekend, catch a Saints game or hit the Quarter.”

  “And I assume I’d have to pay my own way,” I said, giving him the eye and knowing the answer. It wasn’t like I’d ever consider going anywhere with Randy ever again. I just liked forcing him to admit what a cheap SOB he was.