Page 24 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

“Wait!You’reZach?” I almost shout.

“Yeah.” He grins. “Who did you think I was?”

“Your brother, who I’ve already met a few times. Georgia neglected to tell me you and Adam are twins.” I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m not crazy. Aliens still don’t exist.

Zach’s grin grows. “You thought I was Adam? You’re not the first person to make that mistake.” He drops the order on a tray and comes around the counter with it.

“Youareidentical.” I follow him as he carries the food to the dining area. “How am I supposed to tell you apart?”

“I don’t look like I just swallowed a lemon. Or a bag of nails. Or both.” He sets the food in front of Second Amendment guy. “Here you go, Jim. Good to see you.” Jim acknowledges Zach’s slap on the back with a grunt that Zach doesn’t notice.

“Just in case Adam smiles one day, let me get this straight so I can at least make a better guess about who is who.” I follow Zach back to the register, but instead of going behind the counter, he leans on it. He stretches his long legs in front of him, ignoring the long line at Mekylie’s register.

“He’s the one who’s working on Grandma Rose’s, clerking at the hardware slash grocery store, and cooking at The Garden of Eatin’,” I continue, ignoring the way his biceps bulge from resting most of his weight on his hands. “You work this place and… where else? Do the Thomsens own all the businesses in town?”

“Not yet.” His lip quirks to the side. “But world domination is the goal—for me, at least. Keeping things exactly the way they are is Adam’s plan.”

“Order up!” Britta yells from behind the counter. “Counters will hold themselves up, Zach. I need your help getting this food out.”

Zach shakes his head. “You’d think she’s the oldest the way she bosses us. Find a seat. I’ll bring your order to you.”

As I turn toward the dining area, the door opens and the mirror image of Zach walks in. Adam really does have the exact same hair—all the way to the close-cut beard—and facial features as his brother. Except Adam is wearing a blue flannel over a lighter blue T, and the complimentary colors bring out the different shades of blue in his eyes in a way that Zach’s brown sweater doesn’t.

Adam makes an abrupt stop when he sees me. “Hi.” The greeting comes out in a hard breath, like it takes enormous effort to say it.

It takes just as much effort for me to return his greeting with something besides thegot any Google suggestions for methat’s on the tip of my tongue.

He combs a hand through his hair with the same exertion it took him to say a two-letter word, then quirks his mouth into something that might be a smile if he wasn’t trying too hard. “Find any antlers yet?”

“No, but your brother said he’d help.” I turn my chin slightly toward Zach, who’s working the register again.

Adam’s eyes narrow, and I hear a low growl just under the cacophony created by the line of Britta’s customers. And it hits me then that I will always be able to tell the two brothers apart, as long as I can see their eyes.

They’re the same shape and color, but Adam’s swim with hurt.

Chapter 12

Adam

Zach is going to help Evie find antler sheds? That’s a joke. I’m about to tell her as much, but my brother has to open his big mouth first.

“Look who showed up.” There’s always a false brightness in Zach’s voice. Like a metal bench on a cold, but sunny, day. It doesn’t hold any real warmth, especially when he’s talking to me.

“Just here to pick up some food and go. Bear’s watching the store.” Britta’s working in the kitchen, and I rise on my toes to see over Zach and catch my sister’s eye.

She shakes her head. “Not ready yet. I’m swamped back here.”

I give her a nod, then turn back to Evie, avoiding my brother’s eyes. “Zach doesn’t know where to find deer, let alone their antlers,” I say. Loudly, because there’s a lot of noise in here. And because I want him to hear me. “I’ll help you.”

“Not true,” Zach says over the customer he’s helping.

I ignore him and head toward an empty table. “Tell me what kind of antlers you want. Elk, mule deer, moose?” I say over my shoulder and Evie follows me.

Jim gives me a nod as I pass him. “Good to see you, Adam. I’m taking your petition around again. We’ll get those signatures and keep Paradise, paradise.”

I stop long enough to shake his hand. “Appreciate it, Jim. Plenty of people here are okay with more development. They care more about money than Paradise.” I shoot my brother a glare. I know he’s sweet-talked people into not signing the petition I’ve created to keep out developers.

“How’s Becky doing?” I change the subject to Jim’s oldest daughter. She’s had drug problems since leaving Paradise. Most people think because Jim doesn’t want to talk about Becky’s problems, that he doesn’t want people asking about her.

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