by Loraine, Kim
Her heart jumped into her throat. “What?”
“Will you marry me? I know it hasn’t been long and it might feel too soon, but I also had someone I thought was forever and I was wrong. This is completely different. This is right. You’re the one meant for me.”
She took a step back from him. Her vision swam and she had to sit on a nearby piece of driftwood to get her bearings.
Marry him?
She wanted to scream Yes and wrap up in this wonderful moment with him, but she had to tell him the truth about John. It could change everything.
She knew she had to answer him somehow. He wasn’t going to stand there and wait forever. Her stomach churned and she swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise. He wants to marry me and I want to throw up?
“I need to think. I need some time.”
His face crumpled, the hopeful expression dashed and replaced by a cold mask of disappointment. “Why is it always this way with you? One minute we’re happy, the next you’re pushing me away.”
“Drew, it’s not . . . I’m just so—”
“Right. Ring when you’ve made up your mind about me then, will you?” He turned on his heel and walked back to his room.
Chapter 21
Grace sat with her head in her hands. Her heart ached to run after Drew and she had to hold her feet down while she breathed slowly, trying to control the panic that was setting in. She sat there as the stars twinkled into visibility, staring at the darkened sky, shivering and trying to figure out what to do. Her legs were numb by the time she stood and began her purposeful walk to his hotel.
Tell him the truth, give it your best shot, trust that he’ll understand. Oh, God, what if he doesn’t? She knew if things were different, if he didn’t look like John, wasn’t connected to him, she’d be celebrating right now—happily engaged to the man she loved.
I could always say yes and run off to Braley with him and never come back. He’d never have to know.
She laughed bitterly at her own idiocy and cowardice. She’d always been good at running away from her problems.
His room was dark when she reached it and knocked on the door. There was no answer, as she’d suspected, and her heart sank. Looking up and down the boardwalk, panic gripped her. He was out in town, probably at a bar somewhere close. She debated searching for him, dragging him back and getting him out of sight. By now, the damage had probably already been done. The bars were busy this time on a Friday, and he would have been recognized immediately. She began a slow walk to the truck parked back at the beach, her chest hurting.
As she approached her old beat-up truck—the lone vehicle in the boardwalk parking lot—she caught sight of him sitting on the open tailgate. His expression was tortured, face contorted into a mask of anger, betrayal, and hurt. He held an open container of whisky, wrapped haphazardly in a brown bag. He brought it to his lips and took a long pull, wincing as it went down.
“I met a new friend. Well, he thought I looked remarkably like one of his old friends. I’m reasonably sure you knew him.” His eyes were glazed and his words faintly slurred. He set the bottle on the truck and stood slowly. “So, that’s what this is, then? I’m your replacement? I look like him?” His hands were balled up in fists, the knuckles showing white under the skin. “Do I fuck like him, too, Grace? Do you see him when you come apart under me?” His voice was low and controlled, but the anger behind it was apparent.
His words stung her, but she stood her ground, taking what she knew she deserved.
“Do you see him when you kiss me? Who are you thinking of when I touch you? When you say you love me, who is it you’re talking to? Me . . . or him?” His voice broke on the last word, letting the angry mask slip and the raw hurt come spilling out. “How many times have you almost called me by his name, Grace? I can think of at least one. This makes it burn so much brighter though. Now I know, it wasn’t just habit, it was confusion. You well and truly forgot who I was for just a second, didn’t you?”
“Drew. I . . . I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant, that is. You’re sorry? Which part exactly are you sorry about? Lying to me or using me? Or maybe it was forgetting who you had inside you.”
“I wanted to tell you. So many times. I . . . I was so afraid.”
“Afraid of what? Being honest? Christ almighty, Grace! I saw a picture of him. He’s my double. What were you thinking? Didn’t you think I deserved to know? I had to leave the bar because no one would let me be. They just kept coming up to me and telling me how much I looked just like him. I’m such a stupid arse. What kills me is your parents. They lied for you. And Valerie, too? How long were you going to use me?”
She blinked back the tears that threatened to betray her. “This is what I was afraid of.” She motioned to him. “They all told me to tell you. I knew I needed to. Things got out of control. At first it was easy to like you. I found myself slipping into the same level of comfort I had with . . .” She could barely speak his name.” . . . John. My guard was down because you look so much like him. I tried to push you away because it was too hard, seeing him in you. I stopped thinking of you as his double as things moved deeper with us. I fell in love with you, Drew. Not because you have the same face. But in spite of it.” She picked at her cuticles and winced when one started to bleed.
“Lies. All of this. I should’ve bloody well known. I’m not important here. It’s not enough that you’ve lied to me since the moment we met, you have to tell me that my face is not my own. I look like him, move like him, but you love me anyway? In spite of it? That’s rich.”
Tears fell freely from her eyes and ran in streaks down her face. “No. None of it was a lie.”
“Grace, I am not John. I can’t be him for you.” His gaze fell to the pavement. “I told you before. I won’t stand in his shadow.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Her eyes were set on his and she took a deep breath. “You don’t just look like him, Drew.” She hesitated. “You’re twins.”
He let out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair, swaying on his feet. “What?”
She nodded, shivering from a mixture of cold and adrenaline. “I’ve been researching and . . .”
Drew reached a hand out to the truck. When he was steady again, he closed the tailgate with more force than necessary. Without a word, he stalked back to his room. She followed behind, hoping she could get him to listen.
“Twins?” Drew’s eyes widened. He sat on the bed, his fingers worrying at his ear. “How long have you known? Since we met? Since Edinburgh?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. I suspected before Edinburgh. After you told me you were adopted, things started making sense. Then you told me your birthday and I knew it had to be something like this.” She went over the details of John’s unknown adoption, her discovery of his Scottish origins, and the birth records.
“So you didn’t know before?” His gaze dropped to the laces on his shoes. “The first time we were together? Were you thinking of him?”
She shook her head. “Drew, I was struggling with it. That first kiss in my kitchen almost broke me. The first time I saw you I thought I’d gone insane.” She bit her quivering lower lip. “I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”
He stood and paced the floor like a caged animal, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I . . . I just don’t know. This is mad. Why would we be separated? It makes no sense. How does that even happen?”
“I don’t know, but it seems likely that your biological mother gave up each of you to separate agencies. All I know is that John’s parents had no idea you existed.” She fought the urge to touch him, to still him. “They still don’t, actually.”
Drew returned to sit on the bed, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “You mean to tell me I’m sitting here, a carbon copy of thei
r dead son, and they don’t know about me? Grace, what if they see me?”
Her lips were tight as she tried to come up with something to tell him that wouldn’t sound crazy.
“Oh, I see. That’s why the trip out of town, and the ordering in, never leaving the room. You didn’t want to risk it. Here I was thinking you just wanted me. I’m such a stupid arse. Damn it, Grace, this is bollocks! I don’t even know who you are. Bloody fucking hell, I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Drew.”
“No, Grace. I need to think. You should understand that.” He picked up her purse and handed it to her. “I’ll phone when I’m ready.”
Her heart sank and tears threatened to fall as she took her purse from him. She gave him a slight nod and walked out the door without looking back.
The tears came in deep sobs as soon as she was safely inside the confines of her dad’s old truck.
It was after ten o’clock when Grace walked in the door to her parents’ house. Her eyes were tired from crying and her head pounded. How had she gone from an offer of marriage to a probable breakup in such a short time?
Because you’re a cowardly, lying, selfish idiot. She fell onto her bed fully clothed and aching for Drew’s arms. Then her dreams were plagued with memories of John, burning in a fire, begging her to save him.
She woke the next morning with a renewed purpose. As she made her coffee, she dialed Marianne Oliver’s home number.
“Hello?” Marianne’s sleepy voice came over the line, causing Grace to check the clock.
She winced as she realized it was still an ungodly early hour. “Hi, Mari. Sorry to wake you.”
“Gracie, honey, it’s four-thirty in the morning. What’s wrong?”
“I know, I’m sorry. But I need to tell you something. It’s really important.”
“Go ahead.”
“You know that thing that happened that made me wonder if John was adopted?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it was actually someone. Someone I met in England.” She took a deep breath and willed herself to form the words she desperately needed to say. “Mari, John has a twin brother. His name is Drew Tensley. He lives in the town I’ve been working in near London.”
Marianne sucked in a breath. “What? Are you sure?”
“He’s identical to John. They’ve got the same birthday and both of them were adopted in Scotland. That’s as sure as I can be without a DNA test.”
“Oh!”
“That’s not all, Mari.” She braced herself. “He’s here in Virginia now.”
“What? Does he know about us? Why is he here?” Marianne’s voice was strangled and full of emotion.
“He came here to see me.”
“Are you and he . . .” She let the unsaid words hang in the air.
“Yes, no, I don’t know.” Grace pushed away the thought that they might not be anymore. “He just found out last night about his relationship to John. Needless to say, he didn’t take it well.”
“Does he want to meet us?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to tell you before you ran into him somewhere.” She fought back the hysterics that started to bubble up. She loved Marianne and thought of her as a second mother. Not being able to share this aching hurt, to talk it through, killed her.
“Thank you, Grace.”
“Bye—”
“Grace? If he wants,” Marianne said softly. “I’d love to meet him.”
“Okay.”
Carrying a hot cup of tea and a caramel macchiato, Grace walked with determination to Drew’s hotel room and knocked. When there was no answer, she knocked again, this time harder.
“All right, all right, bloody hell.” Drew’s muffled and annoyed voice came from the other side of the door. “It’s five o’clock in the bleeding morning, you daft cow of a housekeeper!”
He opened the door and appeared bleary-eyed, sleep rumpled, and absolutely gorgeous. She shoved her way past him and set the drinks on the small table.
“Grace?” His eyes were wide and bloodshot; the aftereffects of his night with a whisky bottle, no doubt.
“It’s your turn to listen to me. Drink your damn tea and sit down.”
Drew’s eyebrows shot up and he accepted the tea. “Speak softer, please,” he whispered, holding the heel of his hand against one temple as he sat on the bed.
“I’m not replacing John with you. I’m completely in love with you, all the things you are. Yes, you look like him. You even like some of the same things and have the same mannerisms and honestly, I’d be lying if I said that I never think about him when you do those things. But Drew, you are also completely different from him. You are more open and caring than he ever was. You think of me and the things I love. You respect my thoughts and my desires. You want to be with me completely after less than a year together. It took John five years to open up enough for me to even move in with him.”
“I don’t know if I can do this. How can I be with you when I’ll always wonder if it’s me or him you’re thinking of?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks at the truth in his words.
How do I fix this?
She turned her back and walked to the door.
“Grace.” His voice was hoarse and laced with pain.
That one moment, him calling to her even through the hurt he felt, stopped her. She turned, hand on the doorknob, to meet his desperate eyes. He was standing mere inches from her. His arms went around her, frantically pulling at her clothes. She opened his robe and ran her hands up his naked chest.
“I have to have you. I still need you.” He wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her closer. “I need you to know who makes you feel this way. I need you to know it’s only me.”
He was rough, frenzied, and she didn’t care. She needed him, too. Her heart beat frantically as he raised her naked body and pressed her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his hips and opened for him, needing the connection.
“It’s only you, Drew.”
He growled low in his throat as he entered her, pushing hard and fast with an almost punishing rhythm, slightly painful. She knew this wasn’t for her, that he needed to possess her in this moment. His pace faltered and he tensed, controlling his breaths to try and contain himself.
“This isn’t working for you, is it?” he asked, resting his head on her breast.
“It’s not about me.”
“Bollocks! This is all about you, love.” He lifted her and placed her on the bed, her legs up on his shoulders. “This should do it.”
As he moved inside her, deeper than she thought possible, she let out a keening cry.
“Right. There it is,” he said, a vicious gleam in his eye.
She began to come apart around him while he moved and he changed to a maddeningly slow pace. “Not yet, love.”
“Drew, please.”
He shook his head and looked down at her. Behind his eyes, she saw pain and anger, but she also saw love.
He increased the tempo and his breaths became shallow and fast. She exploded around him, a thready cry escaping her as he followed, pouring himself into her.
“Grace, what you do to me.”
Chapter 22
Grace knew she was dreaming, this was how it always started.
The sand was warm beneath her feet. She dug her toes in deeper, relishing the feel of each granule. Everything else was numb.
John was dead. The words kept repeating over and over in her head. So she concentrated on the feel of the sand and her toes as she ran down the beach.
August heat permeated everything around her, but her body was chilled. The morning was filled with disbelief, pain, and a feeling of complete emptiness. As if a part of her had been surgically removed.
Phantom limbs. The words flashed in her memory and she realized that John was now like her phantom. She wondered if it would always feel like he was there, with her, watching her.
Her heart lurched and she ran harder, faster. Her legs were on the verge of collapse as she finally stopped. Flashes of the night before streamed past her each time she closed her eyes. His parents, grief-stricken and pale, Captain Roman holding her back, away from the destroyed body of-.
“Grace? Grace, love. Wake up!” Drew shook her from her dream.
Her face was wet with tears and her cheeks ached as though she’d been crying for hours.
“Are you all right? You were crying in your sleep.” Drew’s eyes were full of guarded concern.
“Just a bad dream.”
“You were calling out for John.”
Her heart fell. “I was dreaming about the day after he died.”
Drew traced circles on her back. “I see.” He pulled her tight against his chest and sighed. “It’s all right. You’re fine now.”
“Am I?”
The answering silence weighed heavily on her as she pulled from his arms and dressed.
“I’ll try, Grace. This is all so strange, but I’ll try to understand. I want this to work.”
She turned sad eyes on him. “Are you sure?”
“I can’t promise it will be perfect. All I can promise is that I’ll do my best. No more secrets and no more hiding.”