Page 92 of Dreamboat

“What the actual fuck, Delia?” His gaze trails behind me before it locks back on my face. “Donovan has a twin brother?”

“Yes.”

“I had no idea,” he whispers. “No fucking idea.”

“Please don’t…”

“I won’t,” he interrupts before I can say another word. “I won’t tell anyone about this, Delia. Not about the baby, or his brother, or about you falling head over heels for my boss.”

I manage to smile. “Thank you.”

He moves closer to take me back into his arms for a bear hug. “I have one last question for you.”

I step back to look up into his face. “Ask it.”

“Are you having one baby or two, or maybe it’s three?”

“Shut up,” I snap as I laugh. “As far as I know it’s one, but it’s early and we haven’t had a sonogram yet.”

“I’m going to love this kid or kids with everything I am.” He smiles as tears well in his eyes again. “You deserve all of this and more, Delia. Your life is looking bright and I couldn’t be happier for you.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Donovan

The best disguise in a situation like this is no disguise at all.

I’ve debated for months how I’d get by the security in the building that houses the offices of the company my brother owns, but it turns out all I had to do was smile at the security guard.

He tossed me a wave and with a stroke of his hand over his beard, he called out, “You’re looking good, Mr. Hunt. I like the no beard look.”

As do I. It’s the reason why I always shave at least once a day.

I did just that before I left New York a few hours ago. Delia was perched on the edge of my bed watching as I got ready for this daytrip.

She helped me chose the dark blue suit I’m currently wearing. She was the one who tied my silver tie to perfection and when she kissed me and told me that regardless of what happens today, she’ll love me forever, I knew I was ready.

I board the elevator alone. I’m grateful for that because as it shoots up to the twelfth floor of this building, nerves own me.

The doors slide open on the ninth floor. Two women board. One looks right at me. “Really, Victor? When we were together I asked you to shave the beard. You do it now? Months later.”

I haven’t heard my brother’s voice in years, so I have no clue if it’s similar to mine. I answer her with a shrug.

I don’t want to blow my non-cover now that I’m this close to face to face time with him.

“You’re a bastard,” she tosses that at me before she departs when the doors open on the tenth floor.

The woman who boarded with her looks at me. “I happen to like the look, sir.”

With that she steps off, too. If I knew her name I’d pass that sentiment onto my brother.

As soon as the doors are shut again I look at one of the mirrored walls. I look like me but I also look like him.

I haven’t had to deal with that directly in years. I can’t say I’ve missed it.

When the doors open on the floor that I know is home to the executive offices of Hunt & Associates, I’m greeted with stares from at least a half dozen people.

“Mr. Hunt?” A dark-haired guy around my age approaches me. “I thought you were in a meeting, sir.”

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