The Right Twin For Him (O'Rourke Family 2)

by Julianna Morris

  Patrick didn’t add that it was C. D. Dugan who’d caught him trying to hotwire a truck when he was fifteen. C.D. had hauled him out by the collar and shaken him like a naughty puppy. Then he’d made Patrick work at the station after school in exchange for not being arrested. It had taken some time, but in the end C.D. had straightened him out, becoming a cross between surrogate grandfather and hard-nosed parole officer.

  “It looks like you’ve done a good job here.” Maddie’s expression seemed wistful, and Patrick sighed.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Yeah, he believed that.

  Maddie’s face had the look a kid gets with his or her face pressed to a candy shop window.

  He stopped and lifted an eyebrow. “Well?”

  She sighed. “It’s just that I’ve never figured out what to do with my life. I think that’s why it shook me up so much when I found out about Ted and…and broke things off.”

  Ted.

  Patrick scowled at the reminder of Maddie’s near-miss disaster of a wedding. The woman was a babe in the woods, and she’d get him into all kinds of problems if he wasn’t careful.

  “You’re better off without him,” Patrick declared. “You should be glad you caught him with the punch girl. Staying single is the right idea. I’m all for staying single.”

  Maddie looked at him curiously. “Marriage isn’t that bad. My parents have been happily married for twenty-eight years.”

  “I thought Ted soured you on the idea of marriage.”

  “Not altogether, just for me. Of course, I feel sorry for Mom and Dad,” she said reflectively. “They really wanted grandkids. And I’d like to have a baby. I love babies.”

  Patrick drew a deep breath. He’d never gone skydiving, but he was certain the sensation was identical to what Maddie did to his equilibrium. “I don’t want kids,” he said hastily.

  She gave him an exasperated look. “I know that. And since nobody’s asked you to have any, you don’t have to keep reminding me about it.”

  Heat rose under his collar. “Right.”

  “What is it with you and children, anyway?” she demanded.

  “They’re okay, it’s just that I took care of my younger brothers and sisters often enough to hope I’ll never have to change another dirty diaper or read Mother Goose again.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Maddie’s eyes were doubtful, and Patrick shifted uncomfortably. Okay, maybe there was more to it, but it was his business. The truth was, he couldn’t be like his dad, not after all the trouble he’d gotten into. His father had been a terrific role model, the most Patrick could ever be was an example of how kids shouldn’t act. He’d come close to making the kind of mistakes that ruin lives…or end them.

  The idea of messing up his own children was more than he could take.

  He opened the door of the advertising office, grateful for the distraction. “You’ll be working in here. It’s small, but it’s the best we can do until we expand.”

  The office really was small. There wasn’t enough room in any part of the station, but he was building capital so they could expand into a larger market audience. Most of his employees were an understanding group, and the rest didn’t say anything for fear of upsetting the Formidable Finn—Candace Finney was the loyal type, even if she did scare people.

  Most people, Patrick thought, looking at Maddie from the corner of his eye. Somehow she’d cracked the Formidable Finn’s shell as if it were no harder than cracking an egg. Alarming thought, considering the way he felt around Maddie. Of course, he was much tougher than Miss Finney.

  “Your desk is in here,” he said, motioning to a workstation in the corner. The head of the department was just finishing a phone call, and Patrick waited until he’d replaced the receiver. “Stephen, this is Ms. Jackson. She’ll be working for you while Jeff is recovering from his surgery.”

  Maddie smiled and stuck out her hand—back home in Slapshot anyone who didn’t shake hands was being plain unfriendly. “Hi, call me Maddie,” she said.

  She liked Stephen at first sight. He was a handsome man in his early fifties, with strong shoulders and little laugh crinkles at the corners of his eyes. And since Candy had told her—a little longingly—what a nice man he was, Maddie already had ideas about getting them together. Just because she didn’t plan to get married herself it didn’t mean she couldn’t do some matchmaking for other people.

  Stephen leaned forward in his wheelchair and clasped her fingers. “You’re more than welcome, Maddie. We have plenty to keep you busy.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said, hoping she sounded confident. It was one thing to talk about selling advertising, another to actually do it. Worst of all, she suspected Patrick had only offered her the job because he felt sorry for her. She wrinkled her nose. Pity was something she could survive very nicely without.

  A sudden, unpalatable thought occurred to her and she turned to Patrick. “I need to talk to you for a minute,” she announced, grabbing his hand and dragging him from the office.

  “Don’t tell me—you already want a raise,” he said, a smile pulling at his mouth.

  “Of course not. I just…you didn’t tell anyone about my wedding getting called off, did you? I can’t believe I just blurted it out to you, especially after we’d barely met.”

  Bemused by Maddie’s lightning-fast change of mood, Patrick shook his head. “I’m the only one who knows about it here at the station.”

  “Well, okay.”

  The vulnerable uncertainty in her eyes made him sigh. He wasn’t good with hurt egos or wounded feelings. His sisters likened him to a human steamroller. Of course, they said the same thing about all the O’Rourke men, so maybe the accusation didn’t mean that much.

  The office door opened and Stephen came out, a thoughtful look on his face. “I hate to interrupt, but I wondered if this—” he tapped the arm of his wheelchair “—was the problem? Some people are uncomfortable about it. I can assure you I manage very well.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened, horrified. It had never occurred to her that her hasty retreat might have been misunderstood. “No. Heck, my uncle has one of those things, and he’s the most active guy in Slapshot.”

  The laugh lines around Stephen’s eyes deepened. “Slapshot?”

  “It’s my hometown in New Mexico. It used to be called Las Damas, but we had a famous hometown hockey player who willed all his money to the town in exchange for changing the name to Slapshot. It’s officially called Slapshot Irvine, but we shorten it most of the time. I mean, who wants to live in a town named Slapshot Irvine?”

  Patrick made a choking sound, but she ignored him.

  “Actually, I was worried Patrick might have told everyone about my wedding-from-hell,” she confided. “It was supposed to be a few days ago, but then I found my fiancé in a clinch with the punch girl. It kind of put a damper on the festivities.”

  “I would think so,” Stephen agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching.

  “Maddie, I thought you didn’t want everyone to know about that,” Patrick exclaimed.

  “I didn’t want you to tell them, but it’s okay if I decide to,” she explained reasonably. “It’s not a big secret, just embarrassing.”

  “I don’t think you could keep a secret if your life depended on it,” he muttered.

  She glared. So she liked to talk and was a tiny bit scatterbrained. It didn’t mean she had a problem keeping important things private. Besides, Ted didn’t qualify as important, not any longer.

  “Be careful,” Maddie said sweetly, “or I’ll tell how you kissed me before you realized I wasn’t your sister-in-law.”

  Stephen let out a crack of laughter, not the least intimidated by Patrick’s scowl. “You’re going to do fine here, Maddie. I’m looking forward to us working together.”

  Patrick wondered if his face had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. �
��I kissed her cheek,” he growled. “It was entirely innocent.”

  “Did I say it wasn’t?” she asked.

  “You…” Patrick stopped and counted to ten. Lord, having Maddie Jackson around was like have a ton of bricks hanging over your head—you never knew when they were all going to drop.

  “Never mind, Patrick,” Stephen murmured. “A kiss is nothing compared to some of the stunts you pulled as a kid.”

  “Stunts?” Maddie looked interested. “What kind of stunts? He called himself a teenage tough, but didn’t give details.”

  “Never mind,” Patrick said hastily. “Why don’t you and Stephen talk about what you’ll be doing here? He’ll have you fill out your employment forms so we can get you on the payroll. I’ll come by later to check on things.”

  As Patrick reached the end of the hall, he glanced back in time to see a huge grin splitting Stephen’s face. If C.D. had become his surrogate grandfather, then Stephen was a surrogate uncle. He’d worked for the station for over twenty-five years and knew more about Patrick’s misdeeds than his own mother.

  But he wouldn’t talk about Patrick behind his back, no matter how hard Maddie tried to worm out the information. When it came right down to it, Candace Finney didn’t have the market cornered on loyalty; the entire staff at KLMS was a loyal group.

  It was a nice thought, though he should have used the opportunity to warn Maddie about his less-than-stellar past. He didn’t think she’d get any ideas about him, but she was on the rebound from that louse of a fiancé, and he was definitely the wrong guy to handle the situation.

  After Patrick had turned the corner, Maddie looked at Stephen. “I’m not sure he likes me very much,” she said.

  A smile tugged at the older man’s mouth. “I don’t know about that. He hired you, didn’t he?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “He thinks I might be his sister-in-law’s twin sister. We look alike and were born on the same day, in the same hospital. And we were both adopted, though Beth ended up in foster homes after her parents divorced.”

  “It does seem likely you’re related.”

  “Anyway, you’ll have to tell me if I’m not doing a good job, because I don’t want Patrick keeping me on the payroll if I’m not earning my money.”

  Stephen rapped his fingers on the arms of his wheelchair. “Why don’t you let him worry about that?”

  “That’s just the trouble. He’s also trying to rescue me—which is sweet but hardly necessary—so he probably won’t say anything if I’m a complete flop.”

  Stephen looked thoughtful. “Rescue you?”

  “So I wouldn’t have to go back so soon and face all the gossips in Slapshot after what happened with my wedding. See? He’s trying to fix things so I have more time.”

  Stephen’s smile widened. “There aren’t very many people who understand Patrick.”

  “I don’t really, but I’d like to,” Maddie said, then realized how wistful she sounded. “I mean, he’s an interesting person. He seems so easygoing and all, but…”

  “But that isn’t all there is to him,” Stephen finished.

  She heaved a sigh. “No, it isn’t. I should have told Patrick I was already having doubts about marrying Ted when I found him with the punch girl. Then he wouldn’t have felt sorry for me or think he had to give me a job.”

  “I doubt it would have made any difference,” Stephen said, patting her hand. “And don’t worry about the rest. I have a feeling you’re just what the boy needs.”

  “I’m not interested in him that way,” Maddie denied hastily. “Not romantically or anything. Besides, if Beth turns out to be my sister, then Patrick will sort of be like a brother.”

  “Right. Sort of like a brother.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “I don’t know why not, everyone else does.”

  Stephen let out the chuckle he’d obviously been suppressing and motioned toward the office. “Let’s get started. I’ve got an idea that having you around is going to make the day go a lot faster than usual.”

  Several hours later Maddie was studying the Federal Communication Commission’s rules on broadcasting when Patrick stuck his head inside the door.

  “Settling in?” he asked casually.

  “I’m learning what you can, and can’t, say on radio,” she murmured, still distracted by the legal mumbo-jumbo she’d been trying to digest. “Stephen thought I should know more about it before I start making pitches to customers. I had no idea there were so many rules about talking.”

  “As if you could keep your mouth shut about anything. We’ll never be able to put you on the air. Who knows what might come out.”

  “Go away.”

  Patrick grinned, enjoying the faint pink staining Maddie’s cheeks and throat. “It’s lunchtime and I own the station. I can pretty much hang out wherever I want.”

  “Well I’m busy, and Stephen isn’t here. He said he needed to meet with some clients, but it might have been all my questions that drove him away.”

  “He can take care of himself.” Patrick glanced around, noticing most of the surface space had been cleared of files. Since the ad office was notoriously messy, Maddie had to be responsible for the general cleanup.

  “It looks good in here. I haven’t seen the tops of these desks in years.”

  She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stephen said to do whatever I wanted. I’m not done yet.”

  Patrick looked around again, realizing one reason the room looked bigger was that the furniture had been rearranged. Maddie might be ditsy, but she was a hard worker. “Who moved the desks and bookshelves?”

  “Me.”

  “Maddie,” he exclaimed, horrified. “You could have hurt yourself. Why didn’t you call me?”

  Her eyelids swept down, concealing her expression. “I’m not helpless. I just pulled and nudged things around to where I wanted them. The loose papers and files and stuff are in boxes in the closet—I’ll sort it out later.”

  Boxes? This was going from bad to worse as far as Patrick was concerned. “Would your father have let you do all that heavy work?” he demanded.

  “No, but Dad is old-fashioned.”

  “So am I.” It occurred to Patrick that he wasn’t being politically correct, but the idea of Maddie trying to strong-arm those heavy old desks appalled him. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

  “You hired me to do a job.”

  “I hired you to work on promotions and sell advertising, not to be a furniture mover!”

  Maddie just blinked at him, a tangle of emotions in her golden-brown eyes. He didn’t have a clue what might be going on inside her active brain. For someone who didn’t seem to have brakes on her tongue, she could be damned incomprehensible.

  “And if you get hurt, Beth and Kane will never forgive me,” he added lamely.

  She was silent a moment longer, then drew a deep breath. “Beth called me last night,” she said. “We talked for a long time. She doesn’t remember her adoptive parents—I guess adopting a baby was their last-ditch effort to stay together. The judge eventually decided neither one of them were fit parents and put her in foster care.”

  Patrick nodded and sat on the corner of Stephen’s desk. “It’s tough growing up without a real family. She’s thrilled to find a sister.”

  “A possible sister,” Maddie amended. “I…I also called Mom and Dad and told them about Beth. They were pretty upset about her ending up in foster homes—they would have loved having us both.”

  An ache rose in Patrick’s chest. Maddie was so hurt by her fiancé’s betrayal, and now she was worried about her parents and how they felt about her finding a twin sister. One complication upon another, life going out of control, making it that much harder to deal with.

  He knew how it felt.

  All those years ago, after losing his father, he’d been out of control. He hated the feeli
ng—the rush of emotions, all conflicting with one another, pain and sorrow, guilt, the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen next. He’d left it behind along with the anger over his father’s death. Life had been too complicated, too confusing, too painful the other way, so he’d worked hard at making it simple.

  He didn’t want it to get complicated again.

  Yet even as Patrick affirmed his resolve, he sensed the ground moving beneath his feet, the first real stirrings of upheaval in years. And his father’s voice, long suppressed, murmured into his ear, urging him to stop sitting on the sidelines.

  “I’m not,” he muttered.

  “Not what?” Maddie asked,

  “Nothing. I just…nothing.” He shook his head to clear it. Keenan O’Rourke was gone, killed in a freak accident, and if his children sometimes heard his voice, it was only in memory. “Adoption records are sealed, but Kane’s people are experts in finding things out. I’m sure they’ll get something soon.”

  He would let his brother and sister-in-law broach the subject of genetic tests. Not that they weren’t convinced that Maddie was Beth’s sister, but it might take more evidence for her to accept it.

  “You know, I’m hungry. Let’s grab some lunch,” he said, wanting to erase her melancholy expression.

  “I don’t want to be treated any differently from your other employees,” she said.

  Patrick started to point out that Maddie wasn’t like his other employees, then stopped. He could already see the mulish set to her jaw.

  “You need to get a feel for the Northwest to do your job,” he said. “I planned to drive you around earlier, but time got away from me.”

  When she remained silent he stood up.

  “Come on, Maddie. If you keep turning me down this way, I’m going to get a complex. I’m hungry, and you must be, so let’s get moving.”

  Maddie pushed the FCC rule book away with one finger. She’d been too edgy about starting a new job to eat breakfast, so lunch sounded wonderful. But she wasn’t supposed to be spending time with Patrick, she was supposed to be figuring out what to do with her life. Wasn’t that the reason she’d come to Washington?