Including her parents, Gage and anyone residing on planet Earth. She was hopelessly in love with him and wanted everyone to know it.
“I’m tired of keeping us a secret. We’re worthy of good things, and finding each other was the ultimate good thing.”
“I know. It really has been,” Christina surprised her by saying. “I’m all for banging the Drew-and-Reid-forever drum. What I don’t want is for you to go in with expectations that aren’t what Reid wants at all. I don’t want to see you hurt when you’re on the totally opposite shore from him. When he does exactly what he says he would do, and you blindside him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Adrenaline poured through Drew’s veins, taking her buoyant mood with it. She sensed her friend was about to share an unwelcome observation. When Christina said, “Hear me out,” Drew knew she was right.
“Didn’t Devin tell you several times while you dated that he wanted to travel and have a family? Hadn’t he been exploring being a personal chef and working with a few wealthy families overseas the entire time you two dated?”
Drew frowned. “Yes, but—”
“You told me he was done being in Seattle. You told me all he talked about was not being stuck in a restaurant kitchen.”
“If you’re taking his side—”
“I’m not taking his side, Drew. I’m taking yours. He told you exactly what he wanted and you told me that you didn’t want that. You wanted to be here in Seattle. You wanted to build your Fig & Truffle dream. You wanted to be career-minded and rock the foodie scene. Devin left you and it was a rotten thing to do. Just terrible, but he did exactly what he told you he wanted to do.”
“We could’ve compromised.”
“You were clear with him about what you wanted. He tried to change your mind. Did it work?”
“You’re not helping!” Drew sprang out of her seat and paced the length of the bar. “I’m over Devin. I’m with Reid. This is about Reid!”
“It’s about you, too, sweetie. You want him to go along with how great the two of you can be together, but he’s already stated exactly what he wants. You can’t dazzle him into changing his mind with the ultimate Pinterest birthday celebration. Tell him you love him before you try this tack.”
“No. I have to show him. I have to show him that this is what we can be.” Drew rested her hands on the table. “Chris, I told Reid I wanted a restaurant of my own and he told me to go for it. I made him crepes and he saw my potential. But I had to show him. He sees me in a way no one else does. He just doesn’t know what he’s capable of yet. I’m going to bring him here on his birthday and show him what our future could look like. Trust me.”
Christina nodded, but she looked unconvinced. So much for backup. But no matter what her friend thought, Drew was as certain of her plan as she was of its outcome. Once she wooed Reid with a perfect evening, once she gave him the gift of a second chance at a real, meaningful relationship, she knew he’d see things her way. They had potential—a truckload of it—and she wasn’t going to let him go when it was so obvious they belonged together.
“Steak or fish?” Drew nudged the menu.
God bless Christina, who perused the options before meeting Drew’s seeking gaze. With a sigh, she said, “Tell me more about the ribeye with thyme butter.”
Twenty
Lost in thought on the code he was writing for work, Reid didn’t hear Gage come in. Reid jumped when a black box with a white ribbon landed on his desk in front of his keyboard. He surfaced from his concentration and allowed the two computer screens in front of him to recede into the background—after first hitting the save key. If he lost even a line of coding, he’d tear his hair out.
Gage stood at the other side of Reid’s desk, arms folded over his chest. “That’s for you.”
“What for?” Reid took off his glasses and set them aside.
“Your birthday, dimwit.”
Reid stared up at his best friend, half in shock, half in irritation. Gage knew as well as anyone that Reid didn’t like celebrating his birthday. Gage and Flynn used to give him shit about it, but they’d eventually stopped.
“Since I’m not allowed to give you birthday gifts, consider this my official bribe.”
“Bribe?” Reid popped the ribbon and opened the black box, revealing a watch inside crafted completely of wood. He’d never seen anything like it. “This is incredible. Why does it smell of whiskey?”
“It’s made from bourbon barrels.”
Points for being unique, Reid thought, impressed.
“What’s the bribe for?” He took the watch from the box, admiring the style. The numbers 12, 3, 6 and 9 were burned into the wooden face. The weight was nice, the size perfect, and the metal clasp a brown-tinted stainless steel. He snapped it around his wrist.
“It’s also water-resistant in case you jump into the lake at the wedding with it on. The bribe is that I’m making you my best man. I know you don’t do the wedding thing. Hell, I don’t do the wedding thing. But Andy and I are doing the wedding thing, Reid, and I need you at my side.”
Reid never wore his emotions on his sleeve. He preferred acting aloof to vulnerable, ever the sincere smart-ass. In this case, however, he couldn’t hide his happiness for his friend. Before he thought about his actions, he was out of his chair and wrapping Gage in a manly hug, and slapping his back for good measure.
“I’ll do it,” he vowed, and then because old habits died hard, added on, “but only in case you change your mind about being married and need a ride to the airport.”
Gage clapped Reid’s arm and laughed, taking the comment the way it was intended. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway. I’m giving Flynn a flask. He’s my other best man.”
“You can’t have two best men.” Reid feigned offense. Flynn and Gage were like his honorary brothers, and he didn’t mind sharing the spotlight with Flynn a bit. “I’m clearly the best man because you came to me first.”
“Luke’s going to be in the wedding party, too. I’m running out of friends,” Gage said of Sabrina’s brother. “Andy has five sisters and they’re all in it, and my side’s a little light. How weird would it be to ask Sabrina and Drew to stand up on my side?”
“Drew?” Reid croaked. “Drew. Right. Of course. She’s your sister, after all. You should absolutely include her.”
Gage frowned. As well he should. Reid had gotten emotional, which he never did, and then overreacted about Drew, which he never would’ve done had it not been for the sneaking around with her on the regular.
“We’ll figure it out. Maybe do something nontraditional like have everyone walk down the aisle in pairs. Like, you and Drew could walk together, Flynn and Sabrina, and then Luke can escort one of Andy’s sisters... I don’t know. We haven’t figured it out yet.”
Reid nodded, his mouth as dry as if he’d just eaten sand. Walk down the aisle with Drew? It shouldn’t be awkward, but since he’d been sleeping with her for the better part of the past two months and knew the end was nigh, it might be weird to see her next June. What if she had a date? What if he did?
Gage was blissfully in the dark, having given up the notion that it was odd finding Reid in Drew’s apartment. He’d asked about Christina a time or two when they’d been out for beers. Reid had played it off, saying they were doing “okay” and then adding that he wasn’t “ready to let this one go yet” in case Gage popped in at either Drew’s or Reid’s house and caught them together. At least if the Christina lie was in circulation, he’d have a prayer of playing it off.
What was making him so damned uncomfortable with the situation wasn’t keeping Gage in the dark, though that was inconvenient, but that Reid had started suspecting Drew was on the brink of wanting more. He’d had enough experience with women to know when it was time to pull up. Drew might not be in love with him yet, but she was close.
Every time they were to
gether, there was a lot more than sex between them. They’d become friends—close friends—in a short time, and had shared secrets and stories with each other. Making love with her was healing a deep wound that’d occurred when Wesley vanished, and no other woman could claim the same.
Reid swiped his brow, sweat popping out on his forehead. He had to get out of here, just for a while.
“I, um, I forgot.” He put his computer in sleep mode before grabbing his bag and stuffing his laptop into it. “I have to be across town for a thing.”
“What thing?”
“Meeting with a guy—it’s too boring to talk about. Probably why I forgot.” Reid cleared his throat and checked the time. It was nearly two o’clock. “Yep, running late. Thank you for the watch. It’s already come in handy. June. I’m excited.”
With that off-kilter farewell, Reid and Gage stepped out of the office. As Reid locked up, Yasmine, their assistant, called Gage over. Reid used the distraction to bolt to the elevator, but not before Sabrina stopped him on the way.
“Hey. You okay?” She was wearing her black-framed glasses today and a royal blue dress that made her green eyes appear even brighter.
“Perfect. Late for a meeting.”
“Oh, well, I’ll let you go.” She pointed at his wrist and smiled. “I see Gage asked you to help marry him.” She winked, and Reid felt something loosen in his chest. No sense in being dramatic about it. What was with him today? He wasn’t big on premonitions, but he felt as if someone’d walked over his grave.
“Yeah. He did ask.” He gave her a smile.
“And you said yes.” She beamed. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.”
“You set a date yet?”
“Not yet, but we will.” Her smile brightened. “Are you eagerly anticipating standing up at our wedding, too?”
“You know me. I never miss a good wedding.”
“Uh-huh.” She chuckled and turned for her office, calling over her shoulder, “Have a good one, Singleton.”
He smiled to himself, shaking his head at his own bout of random anxiety—which he considered perfectly normal now that he thought about it. His birthday was tomorrow, after all. It’d been an off day for his family for as long as he could remember.
Drew had invited him to dinner on his birthday. Fig & Truffle at the Market was opening soon, and the staff was doing a practice run even before the soft opening. They needed extra mouths to feed, and she’d invited him since she knew he wouldn’t be busy. He’d warned her not to sneak in a birthday celebration, and she’d sworn by drawing an X over her left breast that she’d do nothing of the sort. He trusted that to be true. It’d better be true.
Surely, she knew after he’d shared with her the tragic loss of Wesley that a surprise party wasn’t a good idea.
Besides, he had further reasoned, she’d have to invite Gage, Sabrina and Flynn, which would mean telling them about the relationship. He doubted any of his marriage-bound friends would be happy to hear about them—especially when they found out Reid and Drew were temporary.
Tired from the afternoon slump, Reid drove to Brewdog’s, deciding that a hot drink and some time alone with his laptop was in order. He needed to escape the office and have a bit of solitude. Solitude in public. Coffee, or maybe a cuppa, sounded incredible right about now.
He stepped inside, displeased to find a line. Figures. This week had been a kick in the bollocks all the way around.
Almost all the way around. Drew had been the highlight of his night on most nights. He hadn’t seen her in a few days, which shouldn’t have been a big deal but here he was, standing at Brewdog’s wearing a watch made of bourbon barrel, feeling melancholy and displaced, and missing her. Missing her because she knew how to take his mind off his troubles. And it was about more than her shedding her clothes—though that certainly took his mind off everything. Drew knew when to needle him, when to push, when to sit back and wait for him to speak. She also cooked a mean omelet. He’d found risotto unimaginative and dull until the other night, when she fed him a bite she’d cooked on the range in his kitchen. Truffles truly changed everything.
She was becoming special to him in a way that he hadn’t been able to fathom. How about that?
Lost in thought, he wasn’t aware the line had moved until the guy behind him tapped his arm and murmured a polite, “Excuse me. The line’s moving.”
Reid shuffled forward and turned to apologize but stopped cold when he found himself looking into blue eyes that were eerily similar to his own. Actually, everything went cold. His face, his hands, his arms. The laptop bag he was holding felt as heavy as if he’d toted in a cinder block. The sounds around him receded, replaced by a high-pitched hum inside his head.
The man who’d tapped him cocked his head slightly but before he could get a word out, Reid felt tears prick the corners of his eyes.
“Wesley?” His voice was barely audible over the chatter of the café, a dry croak of sound he’d desperately tried to make audible. Every part of his being, every cell within, told him that the man with eyes that matched his own was his deceased brother.
“Tate.” The man shook his head and offered what might’ve been an uncomfortable smile. “Tate Duncan.”
He offered a hand, and Reid stared at it for a beat longer than appropriate before taking it in his own. “Reid Singleton.”
On contact, “Tate’s” face went slack. They stood there, hands clasped, staring silently for an awkward beat before Reid let go.
“Next customer,” the barista called out. “Sir?”
“Um, right.” Reid faced the barista, determined to shake the eerie moment. “Americano. Two pumps vanilla.” He gestured to Tate and said, “Put his on mine.”
“You don’t have to—” Tate started.
“I insist.”
Tate let out a small laugh and then gave his order. “Black coffee.”
It’s a coincidence, Reid told himself as he paid. The shake in his arm receded, his limbs warming as the cold sensation went away. It didn’t change the certainty in his gut, though.
Reid and Wesley weren’t identical twins, but they’d had the same eyes. Their mother had dressed them in matching clothes at that age, and even now they didn’t look that dissimilar, each in chinos and button-down shirts.
Reid watched Tate from his periphery as he walked to the other counter to await their beverages, and that gut certainty that this man was Wesley back from the dead returned with a sickening twist. And Reid had no idea how to broach that topic without sounding like a complete and utter loon.
“Thanks for the coffee, man.” Tate’s accent was American with a dose of cool, calm California. Not a note of English in it that Reid could detect.
“You’re welcome.” Reid swallowed thickly, trying to reason a way to keep Tate from leaving. To tell him that he was not Tate, but the twin brother who went missing on their third birthday.
Reid knew it.
“Do we...know each other?” Tate laughed awkwardly. “I usually remember everyone, and I can’t get over the familiarity. But your name doesn’t ring a single bell. Sorry if that’s rude.”
“No. You’re right. We do know each other.” Reid spotted the hairline scar beneath Tate’s right eye and once again, reality tilted on its axis. Wesley had been bitten by the neighbor’s nasty poodle a few weeks before their birthday. The scar had been an ugly one and had required stitches. It was now faint and white and exactly the spot Reid remembered from the many photos their parents kept around the house.
He couldn’t let Tate leave this café without telling him the truth.
“You’re not Tate,” Reid blurted, knowing he sounded bonkers.
“An Americano and a coffee, black,” called out one of the baristas.
Tate grabbed the drinks and handed over Reid’s cup, offering yet another polite smile. “I am. Tr
ust me.”
“Trust me. You’re not.” Reid cuffed his brother’s arm and moved him aside, feeling the resistance in his younger-than-him-by-two-minutes twin. He spoke quickly, afraid to pause for even a second and lose his nerve. “You’re Wesley Singleton and you were born in London. Your birthday is tomorrow. Your mother’s name is Jane and your father’s name is George and I’m Reid—” he cleared his throat “—your twin brother.”
Despite the stark shock on Tate’s face, and the onlookers who paused to take in the dramatic scene, Reid pressed on. He had one shot to get through to his brother or he would never see him again. He knew it in his bones.
“Our third birthday party was a circus theme and there were clowns,” Reid continued. “And jugglers an-and a big inflatable house filled with plastic balls. And a pool!” He knew how he must look: wild-eyed and crazed. He didn’t care. He’d spent his entire childhood looking at children his age for any sign that they were Wesley. There’d been a feeling so strongly within him at the funeral that Wes hadn’t died. That he was alive and well. Over the years he’d lost hope, but he wouldn’t lose Wesley again.
“Listen, please. There was a pool, Wes.” Reid tightened his grip on his brother’s arm. “And your favorite toy was a Curious George soft toy and I threw it into the pool once and Mum dived in with all her clothes on to get it for you.”
“Look, man...” Tate’s expression turned thunderous as he shook out of Reid’s grasp.
But Reid was nowhere near giving up.
“You went missing,” he told Tate as calmly as he could manage. “We looked and looked. For years. Your funeral was five years after that, and we buried an empty casket. I have no idea how you’re here and why you don’t sound like you should, but you are and you don’t. I know as I stand here that you’re not Tate Duncan. You’re my brother, Wesley Singleton.”
Tate’s face had gone stark white; his blue eyes were wide and frightened.
One Night, White Lies (The Bachelor Pact Book 3) Page 12