Page 80 of Faking Love with the Billionaire Boss

“Kennedy?”

He nods. “Don’t be angry with her,” he says. “She was worried about you, that’s all.”

“I’m not angry.” My eyes sting again at the thought that she cared enough about me to call him.

I glance over my shoulder—I don’t really want to ask him in, but I should be polite. “Come in.”

To my surprise, though, he shakes his head. “I’ll wait here, thanks.”

“Why?”

“Because Saxon asked me to.” He smiles.

I lean my head on the doorpost, thinking how strange it is that he looks so like Saxon, and yet there are subtle differences—his hair, his glasses, and somehow it’s just not him. There’s no connection between us, not like what I have with Saxon.

“You’re short sighted?” I ask. He nods. “So twins can have different eyesight?”

He shakes his head.

“But Saxon doesn’t have glasses?”

“He wears lenses.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.”

“We’re both left-handed, too. It’s more common in twins than in singletons. That’s what we call individual babies.”

“I didn’t know that either. There’s an awful lot I don’t know.”

“Good job you’ve got a pair of twins to help you out then.” He smiles again.

“Do you like being a twin?”

“It’s cool. You get a ready-made best friend. Especially when you’re kids. They’ll always have someone on their side. Someone looking out for them.”

I blink back tears. “That’s nice.”

“And their Uncle Kip, obviously.”

My babies won’t be alone. The thought is sudden, shocking, and emotions tumble over me.

I press my fingers to my mouth, and he sighs. “Don’t tell Saxon I made you cry.”

I wipe my cheeks. “Is he angry at having to come home?”

He raises his eyebrows, then studies me thoughtfully for a moment. “Let me tell you a story about my brother. When we were fourteen, we were at the beach with some friends, just hanging out, walking along the sand. In front of us was an old guy, probably in his eighties, I’d say, quite frail. He’d been throwing sticks for his dog, who was leaping into the water to get them. As we got close, though, we could see the dog was in trouble. The old guy was calling to it, trying to get it to swim to shore, but something had gone wrong, and the dog was flailing about. The old man went up to the edge of the water and started taking off his jacket, clearly intending to swim out, but it was obvious to us that he was in no condition to do it. And without a thought, Saxon said to the guy, ‘I’ll get him,’ and he kicked off his Chucks, stripped off his jacket, and dove straight in.”

I listen to Kip talking about his brother, and his fierce loyalty and love for his twin is evident. Will my boys be like this? I can only think of them as newborns, but one day they’re going to be grown men like Kip and Saxon. The thought is surreal, and makes no sense to me.

“Did he save the dog?” I whisper.

“He did. He managed to pull it back to the shallows, and we waded in and helped drag the dog to the shore. It had gotten hooked on a branch or something sticking out of the water. It ran ashore, shook itself, and was fine. The old guy cried and tried to give Saxon some money. He wouldn’t take it, of course. Anyway, the point is that if he’d do that for someone he didn’t know, for a dog, what do you think he’d do to help his girl?”

“Just because he got me pregnant doesn’t mean I’m his girl, Kip.”

A frown flickers on his brow, then he takes out his phone and looks at the screen. “He’s just landed. He’s going to pick up the Aston, then he’ll come here.”

My stomach flips. “Are you sure you won’t come in?”

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