by Brenda Joyce
Kait was desperately worried and desperately frightened. Did she dare come forward with the truth of who she was?
Kait tried to imagine his reaction. She tried to imagine him smiling in relief, pulling her into his arms, holding her tenderly and telling her that he loved her, Kait, and that he always would. In this scenario, he quickly divorced her sister and the two of them married, had more children, and lived happily ever after.
Kait was ready to throw up.
Who was she fooling? He was going to be very angry when he found out she was a little actress and a part of Lana’s grander scheme. Kait backed up. No, Trev would be furious, enraged.
Kait knew him well enough to know that.
In fact, he was going to despise her, as much as he despised Lana; he might assume her to be exactly like her twin.
And would he be very wrong? Somehow, the attempt to help her sister in a dangerous time of need had seriously backfired. Originally, Kait had been afraid for Lana, and she had wanted to help in any way that she could—now, she wished she had never agreed to masquerade as her, she wished she could go back in time and relive the past. By agreeing to cover for Lana, she had fallen in love with Marni and maybe even Trev, and if Trev ever learned the truth, he was going to hate her.
If he ever learned the truth?
Kait realized she had grave reservations now about ever telling him what had happened. Now, she was terrified that he would hate her forever for her deception. Lana had blithely said that he would eventually forgive her, but Kait knew she had been merely placating her in order to have Kait remain in her place.
Kait felt trapped. She was trapped in Lana’s lie, only now, it had become her own. And the lie had taken on a life of its own, becoming bigger, deadlier, a trap from which she could not escape. And Trev Coleman did not deserve any more lies.
She cringed inwardly. And she knew, without a doubt, that she had to tell him now, before the lie got out of hand. Before her life came to a place where she was knocking on his door and introducing herself for the very first time after his divorce. Before the lie became a secret that must never be revealed...
What if she lost him?
Kait was sick. She had already lost him, hadn’t she? She should have told Trev last night who she really was, before they’d had full-fledged relations. Now, there was no way out. Now, he was going to hate her when he found out the truth—if he ever did. And if he didn’t, she would live a lie for the rest of her life, and hate herself forever because of it.
He chose that moment to step out of the walk-in closet, in his jeans, paddock boots, and a black turtleneck sweater. His eyes moved instantly to her. They were hooded, wary, and cold.
Kait froze. This should be a lovers’ morning, a time of warm smiles, kisses, touches, of shared glances and happiness. But she couldn’t smile, and neither, it seemed, could he.
He nodded curtly and turned toward the door.
What was going on? “Trev!” Kait leapt from the bed. Too late, she realized she had nothing on, worse, she didn’t know what she was doing, only that she had to speak with him now—after last night, she desperately wanted some kind of reassurance from him, which was foolish in itself.
He shifted, his eyes moving over her slim, nude body.
Kait whipped the quilt off the bed, no easy task as it was custom-made and very heavy. Too late, she knew that Lana would never be modest. But he didn’t seem to notice her odd behavior. “Good morning,” she whispered uneasily. The look in his eyes scared her now completely. Why was he so cold? As if last night meant nothing?
“Do you want to speak to me?” he asked, glancing at his watch, as if now that the spectacular and impossibly sensual night was over he had no time to waste on her.
And it hurt. It felt like an arrow to the heart, when it shouldn’t—because he thought her to be Lana. “Have I done something?” she managed cautiously. Why was he behaving as if last night had never happened?
He glanced up, his gaze impossible to read. “I don’t know. You tell me?”
She gripped the quilt so hard that her fingers ached. Was this a new game, of cat and mouse? Or was she reading something into his words out of her guilt and fear? “I thought-I thought that maybe, since last night, we...” She had to stop. “We” what? Lana had no intention of reconciling, and she no longer wanted her sister to do so either. But had he changed his mind about the divorce?
And surely, for now, there could be a truce, a partnership, even friendship.
His eyes widened mockingly. “You thought what? That we’d make up and live happily ever after? It was just sex, for God’s sake. Good
sex, I’ll admit that, but let’s not paint the kettle white, okay? I want to have breakfast with Marni.” He turned, striding across the room.
Kait was stunned. And while she was relieved that his feelings for Lana hadn’t changed, she was also dismayed. After all, she, Kait, had been in bed with him all night, worshiping his body, giving him every ounce of her love. She ran after him, dragging the huge quilt and stumbling over it. With one hand, she grabbed his wrist, with the other, she managed to keep the quilt covering the front of her body. “I can’t believe you’re behaving this way,” she cried. Last night, he had touched and held her as if he actually loved her, too.
Or was she so inexperienced that she couldn’t tell the difference between raw sex and lovemaking?
“What way? Oh, wait, you mean you can’t believe you don’t have your hooks in me? Well, think again, because you don’t.” His smile was mirthless.
Kait was speechless. She finally managed a coherent sentence. “No. I thought that maybe we could be friends now.”
He stared grimly at her. It was a long moment before he spoke. “We slept together. Big deal. It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last. I am not going to trust you—and since when did you decide you want to be my friend?”
Kait recoiled, blinking through her rising tears. Yes, the task ahead of her was now impossible. They would never be friends—or anything more. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” she whispered roughly. She found a core of inner strength then. “I will not fight with you, Trev.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore either. I only want to divorce.” He stared coldly at her.
It hurt. Even if she wasn’t Lana, because he was speaking to her, Kait, the woman he had just made love to all night. But it hadn’t been lovemaking. He had said so himself. It had been sex. Good sex—not even great sex. “We have to talk,” she said hoarsely.
“We do? Now what could you possibly have to say to me, now, after last night?” One dark brow lifted.
This was it. She simply had to tell him that she was Lana’s twin and covering for her. It was that, or get in so deep that there was no way out, not ever. But what about Marni?
Hadn’t she decided to continue her charade for Marni’s ultimate protection?
And then it struck her, hard. He was going to hate her even more than he hated Lana for such a monstrous deception on her part.
“Let me guess. You’ve changed. You’re no longer a calculating, selfish bitch. Six years of lies and adultery don’t count. You’ve seen the light! Somehow, you’ve become a different woman—kind, vulnerable, honest. A woman who’s been thoroughly miscast and is now being thoroughly misjudged?” His gaze narrowed. “How am I doing?”
Did he know after all? And was that why he was so angry with her? Kait stared, forgetting to breathe—he stared back, as motionless as she.
She finally said, unsteadily, “I hope I have changed. I think I have. I regret—”
“You know what?” he said sharply, cutting her off. “I am so tired of the bullshit, of the games. I am tired of your games. I have no idea why you started this one, but this time, I’ve really had it.” He gripped the door and their gazes locked—and Kait knew she wasn’t ever going to be able to tell him the truth. “Last night was good, but as far as I’m concerned, it was good-bye.” He stalked out, slamming the do
or in her face.
He knows, a tiny voice whispered tauntingly in her head.
He can’t know, because he would have said something, the different, stronger voice answered, more firmly.
Kait wasn’t sure that it mattered. She had never felt so miserable, so crushed, and somehow she had gotten her heart broken after all.
By a man who hadn’t ever loved her in the first place—by a man who didn’t even know she existed.
Trev was not in the kitchen by the time Kait came downstairs, clad in her new faded Levi’s, a baby-blue cotton pullover, and polished paddock boots. Sam was blending up one of her healthy drinks, this concoction pink. Marni was fooling around with Frosted Flakes, and Elizabeth stood by the sink, a piece of buttered toast in her hand. Marni shrieked with pleasure as Kait walked into the bright, airy kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy! You slept late! Like before! Daddy said not to disturb you,” she cried.
Kait flushed, relieved that Trev was not present. She simply could not bear his hostility now. “Hi, sweetie,” she said, hurrying over to kiss her niece’s baby-soft cheek. She felt eyes upon her, and looked up to see Elizabeth’s cool regard. Instantly, Kait knew that Elizabeth was fully aware of what had happened last night.
She felt her color increase. Had Elizabeth heard them in the living room? Or worse, had she heard them in the bedroom? And why the hell did she have to look so miffed and disapproving? What did it matter to her if Trev was sleeping with his wife?
Except, of course, Kait was not his wife.
Guilt and depression overcame her.
Kait forced a smile. “Good morning. It looks like snow.”
“It never snows this early in the year. We’re in Virginia—not Colorado,” Elizabeth said, turning away.
Kait walked over to the coffeemaker. Sam had her back to her still, blending her drink yet again. She poured a coffee, added whole milk, and turned. “I am ready for a truce, Elizabeth,” she said.
Elizabeth shut off the faucet, whirling. “I beg your pardon?”
“I want to lay the past to rest. I apologize for my sins—every single one of them. I want to start over.”
Elizabeth stared.
Sam had turned off the blender. Clad in black leather pants, her black leather vest, and a white T-shirt, she turned and stared. She was wearing a rope cuff on one wrist, a beaded bracelet with a dangling cross on the other wrist. A huge silence fell over the room.
“What sins?” Marni demanded, sliding out of her chair. “Mommy, have you sinned?”
Kait smiled gently at her. “Honey, it’s just a way of speaking. No, I haven’t sinned. But I’ve made mistakes, and now I am apologizing—for every single one.”
Elizabeth hadn’t moved. She said, “You’re still taking milk in your coffee. You’re wearing jeans. And now this—this odd proposal.” Clearly, she was almost but not quite speechless.
“Are you religious, Elizabeth?”
She started. “You know very well that I go to a Lutheran church every Sunday.”
“Then you also know that it is hardly godly to refuse the kind of apology I’ve just made.”
Elizabeth nodded stiffly. “You win, Lana.”
“This isn’t about winning. This is about forgiveness.”
Elizabeth turned away. Kait sipped her coffee and met Sam’s baleful stare. “You’re still angry with me?”
Sam nodded, but she seemed completely in control of her anger. In fact, she seemed more wary than mad. “You told Dad, and Uncle Rafe.”
“I did what I had to do, Sam. Your welfare is more important than keeping a secret—one which is illegal and wrong.”
Sam folded her arms over her breasts. “My welfare,” she said grimly. “Are you still going to lend me that dress?”
Kait hesitated. That dress was stained and it now needed a dry cleaning. “Yes. When do you need it by?”
“Saturday,” she said. “Gina’s party is Saturday.”
Tomorrow was Saturday. “I’ll take it to the cleaners when I drop Marni off at school.” She would pay anything for overnight service.
Sam’s tight expression eased. “Really? You’re really going to lend it to me?”
Kait nodded. She felt her own face soften. “You will be beautiful in it. Wait till Trev sees.” Then she felt ill all over again.
Sam became curt. “I don’t care what he thinks.” She grabbed her juice and strode away.
Kait stared after her. How long would it take Sam to forgive Trev for striking her?
Marni suddenly ran after her sister. “Sammy! Wait! You forgot to give me the magic cards!”
When she was gone, Elizabeth spoke. “Why are you lending her that dress? Why did you apologize to me?”
Kait sighed. “She’ll be lovely in that dress.”
“I know what you’re up to. Trev knows too. You think to change his mind about the divorce, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” Kait walked over to the refrigerator.
Elizabeth followed. “Well, it won’t work. This time, he’s through.”
“Great. I’m glad to see you’re so happy that the man you consider a son is getting a divorce.” She took out a jar of peanut butter and one of jam.
“You’re the worst thing that ever happened to him, and I will do anything—anything—to make sure he is finally free of you.”
Kait stiffened. There had been venom dripping in Elizabeth’s tone. Slowly she turned to face her.
“I mean it,” Elizabeth said.
And Kait wondered if Elizabeth hated Lana enough to want her dead.
Marni was in school, and the beautiful black Donna Karan dress was at the cleaners. Kait had gone to the grocery store, desperate for Pepperidge Farm Milano Cookies, and then to a drugstore for some cosmetics—she wanted to buy her favorite Maybelline mascara and Pantene shampoo. After doing her errands, on impulse, she’d gone back to the mall. There, she had found Sam a beautiful patchwork leather jacket, one that seemed to suit her somewhat rebellious and bohemian style perfectly. It was now lunchtime—in another hour she could pick Marni up to bring her home.
Kait glanced around a food court, debating between McDonald’s and pizza and wondering what she might buy Marni before leaving the mall. As it was Friday, the mall was rather busy, far more so than it had been the other day. Pizza Hut won, and she veered toward the counter.
Then she saw Sam.
Kait halted in her tracks, more than surprised, because she had assumed that Sam was in school all day. She stared, but there was no mistaking the tall, lanky blonde with the long, fine hair in the black leather pants and vest. It was Sam, all right, and she was with a boy.
Kait ducked behind a column.
They had their backs to her. They were standing between the Pizza Hut and McDonald’s, chatting. Kait wanted to assume that the boy was Gabe Jenkins—his hair was dark, like Gabe’s in the photographs—but it was hard to say. He was very tall for a sixteen-year-old—he was an inch or two shy of six feet, she supposed.
Sam half turned, but so did he. The boy grabbed her and they kissed. It quickly became a long and lingering embrace. Kait had to look away. Anyone who kissed like that could not be a virgin. She was more than uncomfortable—she was concerned.
She hoped they were using birth control.
“See ya!” Sam’s happy voice rang out.
Kait peeked around the corner and saw Sam fully flushed and smiling and oh-so happy. The boy—no, the young man—was definitely Gabe Jenkins. He was also smiling, and in person he had too much sex appeal for someone his age. But there was also something disturbing about him—something that she had not seen in the photos.
At first she couldn’t define what was bothering her. But then she knew. It was trouble with a capital T, just as Trev had claimed.
Gabe’s smile faded. He looked dark and sulky standing there, staring after Sam. He also looked too old for her—Kait had assumed they were the same age, but this boy had to be seventeen or eighteen.
Kait ducked
back behind the pillar as Sam hurried past. Was she going back to school? Should Kait follow her—and ask her why she wasn’t on campus? Or should she leave well enough alone?
Maybe she didn’t have any more classes. It was Friday, after all.
The last thing Kait wished to do was violate Sam’s trust again. Stumbling across her and Gabe had been a coincidence, but Sam might not see it that way.
Kait turned and saw Gabe disappearing behind the McDonald’s counter and then duck into a back room. She hesitated, realizing he must work at McDonald’s. A few moments later she saw him step out behind the counter, wearing an employee uniform.
Her mind raced. She did not want to cause any more discord, not in the family and not with Sam, but Sam had had a gun. That was serious business, indeed. This seemed to be a golden opportunity to check out Gabe, more subjectively than Trev ever had. And she was doing so only because she cared. She still thought that Sam had lied to protect Gabe and that the gun was really his, not hers. If Gabe was bad news, she wanted to find that out, and there was no time like the present.
She walked over to the counter.
He looked up, not smiling. He had fair skin and blue eyes. His hair was jet black and wavy and far too long for her personal taste. “Can I help—?” He stopped. “Get the hell away from me!”
Kait recoiled. “What?”
He leaned on the counter, his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed. “Get away from me—before Sam sees us!”
Kait was stunned. “Us?”
Anger distorted his handsome face. “I said get out of here, Mrs. Coleman.” He spat out her name. She saw hatred in his eyes as well as rage. And something else: fear.
Lana knew Gabe Jenkins. What did this mean? What could it mean? “I need to talk to you,” Kait said, as calmly as possible. But she was reeling. Surely “us” did not mean “us” in the biblical sense. After all, Gabe Jenkins was in high school. He wasn’t a boy, but he wasn’t man either.