Three am was not her friend the next morning. But
Tara dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She was just toweling off when a shrill, piercing scream, followed by a series of growls and grunts echoed through her apartment.
She yanked on her long night
shirt and sprinted for the guest room, flicking on the lights.
Tina rolled around on the bed in a tangle of sheets, bathed in sweat. “No. No. No,” she muttered, raising her hand in her sleep to ward off some unseen threat.
“Tina!” When Tara’s cry didn’t wake her, she approached the bed and shook her sister’s shoulder.
Tina sprang up,
her expression haunted.
“Tina. It’s okay. You had a nightmare.”
It took a moment for her sister to find herself, recover. Then she buried her face in her hands and wept.
Tara sat next to her on the bed
, wrapped her arm around and held her. “It’s okay,” she repeated, over and over again. “It’s okay.”
At long last, Tina stirred. “I’m… I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No. I was up.”
“I thought they’d gone away.”
“Gone away?”
Tina sucked in a deep breath and scrubbed at her eyes. “I have nightmares…sometimes.”
“About what?”
She tipped her head.
“I-I haven’t had one for a while. I thought they’d gone away.”
“Tina—”
“It’s okay, Tara. I’m okay. I need…” She untangled herself from the sheets, padded to her suitcase and pulled out an orange bottle. She cracked it open and measured out two pills, which she tossed back.
“Do you want some water?”
“No. I’m fine. Go back to bed.”
Tara
barked a humorless laugh. “I’m up for the day.”
Tina glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s three am.”
“I know.” Tara grinned. “I’m a baker.”
“Oh God, that sucks.”
Yeah. It kind of did. “You go back to bed. Do you think you can sleep? Do you want some warm milk?”
A snort. “I’m not a baby. Besides, these will help.” She shook the bottle like a maraca.
Tara frowned. She didn’t like the idea of her sister relying on pills to sleep. “You—”
“I’m fine.” Tina’s
tone was resolute. “I’ll be fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. She had
a nightmare the next night and the night after that as well, bellowing loud enough to wake the neighborhood.
Tara
didn’t understand her sister’s night terrors. Her life had been easy and fun, filled with Chantilly cream and puff pastries. Tina had taken another path, enlisting in the military and serving in three overseas tours. Tara couldn’t bear to think what had happened over there to cause this reaction. She did what she could to soothe away the panic, and distract her sister from painful memories.
A tour of the town and a birthday celebration wasn’t much—but it was all she had to offer.
For the first time in her life, Tara felt helpless. Utterly helpless.
“What do you mean we have to wait two hours? We have a reservation.”
Devlin froze at the familiar voice, one that sent prickles along his spine as he wove through the crowded restaurant back to his table. Through the chattering throng, the laughter, the clink of silverware,
her voice called to him like a beacon. He scanned the room with a sharp gaze…and saw her. There at the podium, talking to the pompous Maitre ’D.
His knees locked. Damn, she was gorgeous. She wore a short flippy skirt and make up and—his breath seized at this—her hair was down. It flowed over her shoulders like a silky river.
He looked at the man next to her, a hipster with thick rimmed glasses and a shaggy cut. Wearing jeans with a suit jacket. Displeasure snarled in his belly. She was with
him
?
He had no call to be annoyed. He’d said no to her proposition. He’d walked away. She could fuck anybody she wanted.
The fact that he hadn’t been able to swallow the regret was his own problem.
Still, it burned to see her with another man…
But then a woman in tight leather pants and matching glasses sidled up to hipster and gave him a kiss. And Devlin’s gut unclenched.
As the couple shifted to the side, Devlin
noticed Tara’s companion. He did a double take. His lips hitched up.
Shit. She had a twin.
“But it’s our birthday!” Ponytail’s voice rose in a warble above the crowd. “We made a reservation.”
“I am sorry ma’am,” the Maitre ’D said, not sounding sorry at all. “We are very busy tonight.”
“It’s okay, Tara.” The woman next to her crossed her arms and sighed, “We can go somewhere else.”
Tara.
Her name was Tara.
Resolution
rose. He edged closer. So close he could smell her perfume. It clouded his sanity, but he managed to murmur, “You are welcome to sit with us.” Tara whipped around and gaped at him. When her eyes met his, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
He’d forgotten. Completely forgotten how damn gorgeous she was.
Or maybe he hadn’t.
Time hung as their gazes clung. His pulse thudded into the silence as he waited for her to respond.
When she shook her head, his heart plummeted. “We couldn’t.”
“Don’t be silly. We were just seated.” He
motioned to the Maitre ’D who leapt into action, grabbing two menus.
“Of course Mr. Fox. Right away Mr. Fox.”
Being a heartless bastard reviewer had its perks at times.
Devlin took Tara’s arm to guide her to his table but she hesitated.
He sent her an inquisitive look.
She glanced around the dining room. Her
perusal landed on a woman sitting alone at a table by the fireplace. “We wouldn’t want to intrude…”
He nearly laughed out loud. She thought he was on a date.
Good
. “It’s no intrusion. Really.”
She blew out a sigh and frown
ed at her sister, who shrugged and whispered, “I am kind of hungry.” When she added,
sotto voce
, “And he is kind of cute,” Devlin couldn’t hold back his grin.
“Come along…
Tara
.”
Ooh. That earned him a glare. He didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.
It was about time her name passed his lips.
The Maitre ’D swept up to their table and laid down the menus with a flourish, then snapped his fingers
, and a company of servers brought over two extra chairs and place settings. Devlin allowed the Maitre ’D to seat Tara’s sister, but he made it a point to hold Tara’s chair. It was a chance to be close to her. And he needed to be close to her.
Naturally, she
scowled at him.
He leaned in as she sat and whispered into her hair, “It’s good to see you again.” She frowned at that too.
And it was good to see her again. He hadn’t realized how gloomy his mood had been until he’d heard her voice…and the shadows had lifted.
He settled into his seat at her side and nodded to his brother. “This is
Charlie. Charlie, meet Tara and…”
“
Tina.” Tina reached out a hand. Charlie stared at it for a moment, as though he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do, but then slowly lifted his own. He froze as their palms touched. It appeared he did not want to let her go. His lips worked.
“I… ah…” Odd. Charlie usually had a silver tongue when it came to wom
en.
When it appeared Charlie was not going to let her go,
Tina pulled her hand away and settled her napkin in her lap, shooting a smile at Devlin. “And who are you? Since Tara doesn’t seem inclined to introduce us?”
“I’m—”
“He’s Devlin Fox.” Tara crossed her arms over her chest and put out a lip. “He gave my bakery a bad review.”
“It was not a—”
Tina snorted. “Well, that was stupid.”
“It was not a bad review.”
Tina shot him a toothy smile. “Tara holds a grudge.” She snagged a dinner roll, broke it open and slathered it with butter.
“It wasn’t a bad review.”
“Three burps.”
Charlie gasped with more melodrama than was
precisely necessary. In fact, no melodrama was precisely necessary. Devlin glowered, at which his brother grinned. “Why would you give such a beautiful woman only three burps?”
Really, Charlie?
And in that tone of voice? As though he were
seducing
her? And come to think of it, Devlin didn’t care for the way his brother was ogling his…his
whatever
.
She wasn’t his girlfriend, for God’s sake. And she wasn’t his lover. Not technically. She was—
“I didn’t know she was beautiful when I wrote the review—” He caught himself and added. “And three burps is
not
a bad review.”
Tina clucked her tongue as she opened her menu. “Well, good luck with that.”
Charlie
fixed Tara with a flirtatious look. “Well,
I
would never give you a bad review.”
Devlin tried not to bristle.
He needed to complete his review for this restaurant, but why on earth had he brought his brother with him? He should have left the bastard at home with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon.
“Thank you Charlie.” Tara patted his hand. “I appreciate that.”
“So,” Devlin gusted. To distract them, perhaps. “What’s everyone going to have?”
Tina
slapped the menu closed. “The Shrimp Scampi, I think. How about you?”
“Salmon,” Devlin and Tara responded at the same time. Why she had to glare at him
about that, he had no clue. It wasn’t his fault they had the same taste in fish.
“I’m getting oysters,” Charlie said with a waggle of his brows. Honestly, if he didn’t quit ogling Tara, Devlin was going to punch him in the
gut.
And then he saw it. The flicker in his brother’s eye. The quick glance at
Tina. And the rise of his blush. And Devlin realized…it wasn’t Tara Charlie was interested in. Relief flooded him.
He didn’t know why he was so comforted by this knowledge. He had no hold on Tara. No claim to her whatsoever.
He ignored the prickles on his nape at the thought.
The server came to take their orders and the conversation settled into a predictable polite pattern. No talk of burps or grudges. No salacious leer
s. Tara chatted about her bakery—thankfully without a mention of gluten-free anything—and Tina mentioned that she was visiting for a few weeks. She launched into an entertaining monologue about the sights they’d seen in the past week. It was all very pleasant.
Until
Tina turned to Charlie and eyed his wheelchair with a gimlet gaze. “So,” she said. “What happened to you?”
Silence descended over the table and Devlin’s heart stopped. Froze right there in his chest. He knew he couldn’t protect his brother from every wound, but he did try. He just hadn’t expected this. Here. Now. And so bluntly.
How mortifying would it be to have a beautiful woman blatantly point out that you were no longer a man?
Charlie’s lashes flickered. His
Adam’s apple worked. But he fixed a tight smile on his face. “IED.” Yeah. The bomb had blown a hole in his half-track. Wedged a piece of metal in his spine. He’d been the lucky one.
Devlin opened his mouth to change the topic to something less awkward, but before he could
, Tina spoke. “Ah,” she said. “That sucks.”
“It does indeed.”
She tapped the tablecloth with a slender finger. “So, where were you stationed?”
To Devlin’s astonishment, his brother shifted toward
Tina…as though he wanted to talk about this. “Kandahar.”
Tina
nodded. Lifted her glass. “Kabul.”
“Really?”
“Two years.”
“Really?” Charlie looked her up and down. His
surprise made it clear he would not have pegged her for a soldier. Neither would Devlin. She was as diminutive and delicate as Tara. Maybe more so. Her short-cut hair and hollowed cheeks made her appear more elfin, even more fragile than her sister. “What’s your designation?”
“Med corps.”
Charlie whistled through his teeth. “I bet you’ve seen some things.”
“No shit.”
The two pattered on, chatting about assignments they’d had, bases they’d both visited, and a bar in Stuttgart they both knew far too well. When they discovered they had mutual friends, any hope of a four-way conversation fled.
Devlin could hardly be offended. He hadn’t seen his brother this animated in…too long. He glanced at Tara to catch her gazing at him. Their eyes met and she tried to cover her flush with a little shrug
, but it didn’t work.
He scooted his chair closer to hers. “I didn’t know you had a twin sister,” he murmured.
“I didn’t know you had a twin brother.”
Silence surrounded them. He broke it. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I’d like to learn.” He didn’t intend for the words to slip out. They just did. But that was okay. He liked the way her
nostrils flared when she caught them. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“What was it you said?” She tapped her lip as though trying to remember.
“I missed you…
Tara
.” He whispered her name. She shivered. He liked that too.
She affected a blasé shrug. “It’s only been a few days.”
Since they’d talked, yes. Since they’d touched…far too long. “It’s been nearly two weeks. I’m aching.”
Her snort surprised him.
“What?”
“Seriously?” She glanced at her sister—who was completely engaged in a conversation with Charlie about mess hall food—and leaned closer to hiss, “You had your chance. You said no.”
“Maybe I should have said yes.”
The air around them sizzled and crackled.
“Maybe you should have.”
He forced a smile. “Do you really hold a grudge?”
“Yes.”
“For, ah, how long?”
“Forever.” His belly plunged. But when her lips tweaked in a tantalizing offering, something else rose. “But you could…work it off.”
“Work it off?”
“Mmm hmm.”
If
her scorching perusal was any indication, he might enjoy
working it off
. He leaned closer. “Do your worst,” he said in a low thrum. “I dare you.”