Page 2 of Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin

Boy, even knocked practically unconscious, he sure looked amazing. Ten years had done the man a lot of good. His face was more rugged, jaw more pronounced. It could have been the five o'clock shadow at two in the afternoon that helped with that. He had a fabulous tan. The kind you got from living inFlorida. Lips I'd dreamed about kissing when I was sixteen still looked appealing now. His dark hair that peeked out of his cap had a little curl. His blue eyes, even unfocused, were just as I remembered. Longing, once forgotten, flared back to life.

He just stared at me, looking me over as if I were a space alien. A slow perusal from head to toe. I couldn't tell if he was confused or just addlepated. “Jack, say something.”

He blinked. Smirked, but quickly winced.

“Um.”

Oh God, had I caused him amnesia?

He cleared his throat. “Nice breast.”

I glanced down at myself, one bare breast was definitely out there for Jack to see, my nipple hard. I yanked at the side of my robe that was glaringly open, my hand at my neck holding the lapels together.

“Is this how you treat all your boyfriends?” His blue eyes had cleared, weren't so foggy as a minute ago. “A kiss hello would probably be better, although maybe that's not your way.” His gaze dropped to my chest again.

My mouth fell open as anger flared. “You're not my boyfriend. You lost your chance ten years ago,” I said tartly.

Jack leered. The smile he gave me couldn't be described as anything else. “You flash everyone who comes through the door, or just me?” He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head, winced.

I felt my cheeks burn hot at the thought of my epic wardrobe malfunction. It was completely and utterly mortifying, and on top of that, he was being a total jerk about it. “Only ones I bash on the head first.”

2

Twenty minutes later, I pulled my van into the parking lot of the ER, Jack strapped into the passenger seat. It was the business van, full of tools and pipe. ‘Pete's Plumbing’ was painted across the outside in black cursive. I'd tossed on clothes—jeans, turtleneck and sweatshirt, heavy winter coat, boots and gloves. I'd tucked my snarled wet hair up under a thick wool hat so it wouldn't freeze.

We hadn't said too much since the breast baring incident. I kept silent because I was too angry to say anything. I wanted to give him another whack for being so obnoxious. I was also embarrassed I'd had a wardrobe malfunction mid-attack, but halting an intruder had been my first priority. I'd thought about getting naked with Jack, many, many times, but that boob-flashing hadn't been what I’d had in mind. Now, I was modestly covered head to toe. Only the lower half of my face had actual skin showing.

It was really too cold for more. It was January, it was Montana, and it was freezing. I was used to snow for months on end. I had the right clothes to prove it. I knew not to be stupid when it came to winter and was bundled up accordingly.Jack, on the other hand, looked like he’d just come from Florida. Which, he most likely had. His shoes couldn't keep out an inch of snow, his jacket was something you'd wear in May in Bozeman, not in temperatures that were stuck below zero. The hat on his head was the only smart thing he wore. Most likely he'd picked it up once he got to town. No hat like that was even sold in Miami.

Jack wasn't talking either. He clenched his jaw tight enough to turn his teeth to diamonds as he stared out the windshield, one arm folded across his chest with his hand tucked into his armpit, the other holding a package of frozen peas to the back of his head. He looked angry—and freezing. He was being silent and moody because I'd knocked him out.

I sighed as I pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. “Okay. I'll take the high road here and talk first.”

“High road?” he questioned. His voice was deeper than I remembered, but the Jack Reid of my memory was a gangly teenager.

I took a deep breath. “I haven't seen you in over ten years and the first thing you say to me is 'nice breast.' So, yes, high road.” There was a little snark in my voice.

He turned to gaze at me, eyes dropping briefly to my 'nice breasts'. My heart went pitter pat. Even angry, in pain and cold, he was so...Jack. I'd thought about him night after night in high school and relived the one—and only—kiss we'd shared ever since. I had to admit, the younger version of me had exceptional taste.

I was reasonably attractive. The dates I'd gone out with in my life seemed to think so. I had stick-straight black hair that went past my shoulders, brown eyes. I wasn't short, nor tall. Five-six made me right in the middle. My weight was proportional to my height—my doctor's words. Jack seemed to find my breasts worthy of a second look, even with layers of coat and clothing on top. I had to be somewhat appealing to him as I looked like mysister—myidentical twinsister—whom he'd slept with. There had to be some attraction there. Although, if we ever did end up in bed, it might actually be anticlimactic for him. Not a pleasant thought. No one wanted their first time with a guy to be 'been-there-done-that,' even though they hadn'treallybeen there, nor done that. With me.

“High road?” he repeated. “You hit me on the head like a woman possessed.” His voice sounded as if he were equally frustrated.

I took another deep breath and started counting to ten. I made it to six. “Which I wouldn't have done if you hadn't waltzed on in Violet’s house. Explain to me why you were there and how you got the key.”

“My uncle is renovating his kitchen, which he's been telling me about for weeks. But he called yesterday and told me he was sick,” Jack said, his voice bitter. “He needs my help finishing the project. Said he was too weak to supervise. I flew in from Miami this morning, took a taxi from the airport and when I got to his house, there was a note saying he's in Arizona for the winter. On top of that, the power and water are shut off because the back half of his house has been gutted.”

Wow. His uncle really wanted Jack back in Bozeman for some reason. To lie like that was a pretty big deal. I'd be mad, too.

“He left the address of where I could stay until that part of the renovation was complete. That's how I ended up at your place. After walking ten blocks,” he growled, shifting the frozen peas. “And he said the key would be under the doormat.”

There was a lot for me to think through in his brief recap. First off, he had been worried about his uncle. Worried enough to come back, over two thousand miles, after ten years. That said something because he hadn't been back to town, not once, since graduation.

Second, I was the one who was preventing him from staying at his uncle's. Being the plumber his uncle had hired for the job, I’d separated Jack from his running water. When he learned about that, he would probably have a stroke. I had no doubt. No way would I tell him now. One medical problem at a time.

My third thought was that Violet needed to move her extra key.

And lastly, well, my last thought needed confirmation.

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