Chapter 5

Cain never texted me back. I found myself standing in front of a full-length mirror in my bridesmaid dress being pinned and tugged while I did all the fixating that I normally despised in girls. I considered and discarded a hundred reasons why Cain hadn’t answered me.

He was at work.

He was hungover.

I hadn’t given him anything to respond to because I hadn’t ended with a question.

His phone had died.

He never wanted to talk to me ever again.

I scowled at myself in the mirror, thoroughly annoyed that I was trying to telepathically determine what another human being was thinking or doing. It was futile and I knew it.

“Did I hurt you?” the seamstress asked.

“No, I’m fine,” I said absently.

“Okay, this is good. Do you like it?” she asked. She was a petite woman in her forties, with reading glasses perched on her nose.

I was indifferent about the dress. The style was cute enough but I wasn’t a huge fan of the blush color with my complexion. “It’s fine.” I stepped off the platform. “Can I change?”

Bella was in a fitting room being squeezed into her dress.

“Yes, you can change.”

“Thank you.” I glanced out the window as I walked past it to my own fitting room. I did a double take.

Cain was walking by, carrying a little boy with wispy blond hair. I had an immediate reaction to seeing the lobster fisherman. I got hot. My nipples hardened. My breath caught. He disappeared from view and I scrambled to the window to see where he was going, and to see if it really was him. It was. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with him but I had seen and felt the way he moved, had measured the breadth of those shoulders with my hands, and had run my fingers through that short, dark hair.

He crossed the street and entered the park, where there was playground equipment. He put the little boy in a swing and pushed.

I bolted, changing out of the dress, dropping it on the floor of the fitting room and pulling my jeans and T-shirt on. I shoved my feet into the flip-flops and ran out of the fitting room. “I’ll be right back!” I said to the startled seamstress. “Tell my sister I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Chasing a guy down in the park wasn’t my usual style but I wasn’t going to be in Camden that long, and once my whole family arrived for the wedding I would never have a minute alone. There would be zero time to have sex with Cain. I wouldn’t even be able to see him because my mother would be filled with nosy questions and criticisms. So instead of wasting time wondering why Cain hadn’t answered my text, I was just going to throw it out there and see what happened. Hell, it had worked the night before.

Bella was going to be pissed that I had left the salon but I would be fast. I darted across the street between two parked cars and fast-walked toward the park. There was no time to glance around and appreciate the architecture of the town. Normally, I enjoyed the orderly symmetry of downtown, but today I had bigger issues at hand. I went up to the swings and stopped in front of the little boy Cain was pushing.

“Hi,” I said, slightly out of breath. I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing that I had no bra on.

“Hi.” He was wearing shorts and a black T-shirt. He didn’t look hungover. Nor did he look excited to see me. Conversely, he didn’t look annoyed. Just flat. Remote.

I wasn’t expecting a kiss or wild enthusiasm, but I guess I thought he would at least smile. Show recognition that just hours before we had been naked in bed together.

“Who’s this little guy?” I asked when the silence stretched out. The baby was very cute, with chubby cheeks and a button nose. He was staring at me as he went back and forth gently in the bucket swing. He had on denim shorts, a T-shirt with a puppy dog on it, and little navy sandals. I was no expert on child development, having never been one to babysit, but if I had to guess his age I would put it between eighteen months and two years.

“This is my son.”

Okay, so my jaw dropped. I didn’t mean it to, but it did. “Oh, wow. That’s…awesome. Does he live with his mother?” Because there had been no child in his house the night before.

“He lives with my mother.” Cain gave him another push.

The baby kicked his feet out and waved his fists, yelling something that sounded like “mo” over and over. Now I thought maybe he was younger than I had originally guessed but I wasn’t sure. I was shocked only in that I hadn’t pictured Cain as a father and he hadn’t mentioned a child. Didn’t most parents mention a kid? But I realized it didn’t actually matter. That was his private life, and I hadn’t asked him any personal questions and he hadn’t offered me anything. Why would he? We were total strangers essentially, despite our physical intimacy. Interesting though that this child lived with his grandmother instead of either parent. I pictured Cain slinging back whiskey and decided maybe that wasn’t so shocking.

Bella was going to send a rescue crew out after me if I didn’t go back right away. So I stayed the course. “I think we should have—”

I stopped myself. Maybe saying the word “sex” in front of a baby was not cool. “I want to repeat last night with you. Tonight, if you’re free.”

For a long moment he didn’t say a word. He just stared at me while I clutched my chest.

He finally spoke. “What’s your name?” he asked.

Was he for real? I admit it, I was outraged. How could he not remember that? “Sophie,” I said through my teeth. “Sophie Bigelow.”

He gave me a smirk. “Well, Sophie, let me give you a piece of advice.”

A pit settled in my gut. I was not going to like what he had to say. His expression gave me the sinking feeling that this would be like grade school—when you got set up by the cool girl and then she humiliated you. Sure, come to my party. Only when you show up no one is there. I didn’t want to care about Cain’s opinion of me, but I did. I wasn’t looking for love, but neither did I want to be trashed or dismissed. He’d kissed me goodbye like he had enjoyed himself, and I had appreciated that. All he had to do now was remember giving me the most intense pleasure of my life and I was good with that.

Respect. It was an easy thing to give.

“If you have trouble telling us apart, there are two things Cain has that I don’t: a tattoo and an ever-present drink in his hand. I’m Christian, his identical twin. Also known as the good twin.”

Relief coursed through my veins. That explained the total lack of emotion or recognition. But I was embarrassed that I had essentially shared with him what Cain and I had done, and I couldn’t help but give this twin a jab. He could have said something sooner. It had been obvious I had thought he was Cain, that I thought we knew each other. “Well, for being the good twin that was a rude thing to do to me just now. You knew I thought you were Cain and you made me feel like shit.”

His eyebrows rose. He cracked a laugh. “Fair enough.” He came around the swing set and stuck his hand out. “Christian Jordan. Nice to meet you, Sophie.”

Christian didn’t have the same swagger, that cocky confidence Cain did. He gave me a friendly smile, yet I couldn’t interpret his genuine feelings or intention at all.

“Hi, Christian. Cain didn’t tell me he has an identical twin.”

“That’s because he hates me. And listen, you might want to rethink pursuing my brother.”

“Why?” I shook Christian’s hand automatically. Yep. This definitely wasn’t Cain. His touch didn’t send electricity shooting through my body.

“Because you seem like a nice girl.”

That annoyed me. How did he determine in two minutes that I was a “nice girl”? And what did that even mean? “And?”

“Cain has problems. And a little heads-up—Cain never goes home with the same girl twice. It’s one and done.”

“Thanks for the advice.” There was something underlying his words though that I just couldn’t figure out. This was one of those moments where I couldn’t read intention. It wasn’t a skill I had ever possessed or learned. I just knew I didn’t want to continue the conversation. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon with your son.”

“Take care, Sophie. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.” For some reason I hoped I wouldn’t. Christian had rubbed me wrong, an unusual reaction for me. I did wave to the little boy though, making faces and gaining a grin from the toddler.

When I got back to the salon, I was sure Bella was going to be furious at me for not being there to capture her entrance into the room of three-way mirrors with my phone, but she wasn’t even out of the fitting room yet. “Are you okay?” I asked, knocking on the door.

“Go away, Sophie!” she yelled at me. Unlike a regular fitting room in a clothing store, this had an actual door so I couldn’t see anything. She didn’t sound upset, just angry. So I decided not to force the issue. If I had to guess, she thought she looked heavy in her dress, which of course would be completely impossible and ludicrous given her height and weight. I was too distracted to cater to that.

I sat down on a velvet sofa and chewed my bottom lip, checking my social media. The seamstress discovered my dress on the floor and gave me a dirty look as she picked it up and brushed it up, placing it on a hanger.

“Sorry,” I said. But then I forgot about feeling guilty when my phone lit up in my hand. It was Cain, calling me via FaceTime. I sat up straight and ran my fingers through my hair, feeling instantly both excited and nervous. I swiped on the screen. “Hello?”

There was his face, with an expression I remembered. A sly smile. Totally unlike his brother. “Hey, Little Red, what’s up?”

“Hey, Cain.” Damn, he was so sexy. It felt a little surreal that this man had been inside me. He looked scruffy, his chin covered in stubble. There were dark circles under his eyes, I would assume from the whiskey and the lack of sleep. He had told me he had to go to work in the morning.

Given that there was nothing but water behind him, he had made it in to the “office.” That was impressive in and of itself. Being on a rocking boat after a night of drinking could not be great for your sense of equilibrium.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice was gravelly over the sound of the wind.

“I’m not hungover. I didn’t really drink that much in the end.”

“No, I meant with everything. Down south.”

That was embarrassing. I could feel my cheeks start to burn. This was not a conversation I had expected to be having with him. “Two thumbs up.” Because really, what the hell was I supposed to say?

He gave a soft laugh. “Good. I hope I wasn’t too rough.”

“No.” I pursed my lips. I did not want the shop owner to hear any part of this conversation. “But I can’t really talk in detail because I’m at the bridal salon with Bella. We have dress fittings.”

“Is that why you’re not wearing a bra?” His voice was low, rough, aroused. His eyes were focused on my chest. “And why your hair looks like you just crawled out of my bed?”

Instantly, my nipples went hard as I remembered what it felt like to have his mouth closing over them, teasing them to tautness while his hands firmly cupped my breasts. I shifted the phone so he couldn’t see my chest because that hungry look in his eye was doing weird things to my insides. He gave a groan of disappointment. “Yes,” I said to his question. “Are you on a boat?”

“Yes. It’s lunch break for me.” He moved his phone so his face disappeared and all I could see was sun-dappled water. “The other guys are downstairs so I have a couple of minutes and I just wanted to make sure that you’re not regretting all your choices last night.”

Interesting. And sweet. Like I had told him the night before, Cain wasn’t quite the big bad wolf he claimed to be. “No regrets at all. In fact, I told you I’d like to repeat it, only it turned out I wasn’t talking to you, but to your identical twin. Which was a little embarrassing.”

He went still and his eyes narrowed. The smile disappeared. “When the fuck did you see Christian?”

“Ten minutes ago in the park. He was with his son and I thought it was you and requested another night. He pointed out I was talking to the wrong brother, then told me you never repeat girls ever, so I shouldn’t bother.” I suspected there might be some truth to that, but I also suspected that Christian liked to paint Cain in a bad light. But at any rate, you never got anything unless you asked for it.

I wanted more of Cain.

Cain’s nostrils flared. “My brother doesn’t speak for me. Just so you know.”

“Okay.” Did that mean he was willing to have me over for Sophie’s Sexual Awakening, Part Two? I hoped so.

“And if you ever see him again, walk away. He’s a fucking asshole.”

“He did say you hate him.”

Cain snorted. “He hates me too.”

I couldn’t imagine having that kind of animosity toward my sister. Bella and I were totally different personalities, yet I loved her with my whole heart. I wanted her to be happy just as much as I wanted myself to be happy.

He continued. “And he pretends to be this great guy, morally superior. But he’s just a liar. At least I wear my flaws out in the open. He tries to hide his.”

That seemed on par with what I had seen. His asking me what my name was had been a dick move, plain and simple. “Once I realized it wasn’t you, it made more sense to me. Because he asked me what my name was, which seemed odd. I was pretty sure you would remember it.”

I wasn’t searching for some kind of compliment. I was just relaying the facts. I knew Cain had been drinking but I really didn’t think he could have forgotten something that basic in less than ten hours.

Cain rubbed his jaw and gave me a look that warmed me from the inside out. “I do. I remember every second. Every touch. Every taste.”

I swallowed hard, not sure how to respond to flirtation that was so sexual in nature. “Oh. That’s good.”

He smiled. “And I do want to repeat last night. Can you come over tonight?”

Hell, yeah. I nodded. “Sure.” Movement to my right caught my attention. Bella’s door had flung open and she was standing there, looking murderous.

“Sophie!” she screamed.

“I have to go,” I told Cain. “Bella needs me.”

“Give me one last view of your tits,” he said. “And I’ll let you go.”

I felt absolutely ridiculous, but I did it, shifting the camera view downward. I even pushed my chest forward so it would show to optimum form in the T-shirt. That was purely on instinct. He made a sound in the back of his throat.

“Thanks.”

As odd as it felt, I enjoyed his response enough to forget about any discomfort with my inability to flirt. He made me feel sexy and that was awesome. “You’re welcome.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Talk to you later, Sophie Bigelow.”

I ended the call, wondering if he had used my last name to prove he remembered it. And wondering why I cared.

---

There were a lot of people in town who would be thrilled to talk shit about me to Sophie and it wouldn’t have bothered me. Whatever. They could say what they want. But the one person who had no right to say a goddamn thing to Sophie about me was Christian. He had lost the right to have any opinion about my life when he had fucked my girlfriend.

And gotten her pregnant.

Or not gotten her pregnant.

We’ll never know for sure because we’re identical twins with the same fucking DNA, so a paternity test is absolutely useless. So, yeah. He had no right to say dick to Sophie.

I hadn’t called her to invite her over again. I hadn’t been planning to see her again at all. I figured why fuck up a good memory, right?

But then she’d said Christian had made it sound like I was so predictable that he was fully confident in saying I would never see her again. There was no way I was going to let that motherfucker tell Sophie anything about me.

I shoved my phone down into my pocket and took a deep breath of the ocean air. I should eat something. My stomach, churning miserably when I first got on board, had settled down.

Rick had taken one look at me at eight when we’d met on the dock and said, “You look like shit. But less shit than total shit so I’d call that a win.”

I had felt way worse many a time. Mostly I was rough around the edges because I hadn’t slept much. After I had gotten home, thoughts of Ali’s baby, who Christian had claimed as his, had pressed down on me. I had drunk two more glasses of whiskey until the anger had dulled, and when I dropped into bed, I smelled the sweet scent of Sophie. I buried my head in the pillow she had rested on and let it calm me.

Her body, her curious stare, were the last things I thought about before I fell asleep and the first thing on my mind when I woke up. My dreams had been tangled with her wide eyes and her curvy hips, riding me. I’d woken up hard with my hand on my dick.

It was exactly the distraction I needed. She had lived up to my expectation. Hell, exceeded it.

My other crewmate, Liam, came up and sat down on a trap, a sandwich in his hand. “Dude, you look like you got some serious pussy last night.” He took a bite and spoke around his food. “That is a shit-eating grin on your face.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, motherfucker.” It had never been a habit of mine to engage in locker room talk. I didn’t need to brag. But I really didn’t want to discuss Sophie with anyone. She was different. Something that was a little bit more than the normal hookups I had.

And I didn’t want to share her or our time together with anyone. I wasn’t going to look too hard at the why of that, but it was what it was.

Liam took another bite of his sandwich. “Dick. I would tell you all the juicy details if it were me.”

“First of all, it never is, you fucking loser. Second of all, why do you bite your sandwich first and then start talking? How about you chew and swallow and then bug me? I’m embarrassed for you, man.”

“Says the guy who pukes overboard at least once a week.”

There was some truth to that. The motion of the ocean wasn’t kind to an alcoholic. “I’m feeding the fish.”

Liam made a face. He was not a good-looking guy, having eyes that were set too wide, and a larger nose than most would deem attractive, but he was easygoing and fun, and he always had a whole harem of homely girls trailing around behind him. The problem with Liam was he thought he deserved a supermodel and walked around with an odd arrogance and entitlement that meant when he could actually have a sweet little girlfriend sucking him off every night, he chose instead to hold out for the dream girl that didn’t exist for him.

At least I didn’t think so, but hell, maybe I was wrong. Maybe one day Gigi Hadid would be on fucking vacay in Camden and she’d fall for Liam the Ugly Lobster Fisherman. But I wouldn’t bet the farm on it, or even five bucks. Life doesn’t work that way. You don’t always get what you want.

“Thank you for that disgusting visual,” Liam said.

“Right back at you,” I said, gesturing to his mouth filled with chewed ham and rye.

He rolled his eyes and stood up and walked away, obviously a little annoyed with me.

I texted my mother.

You home tonight? Can I stop by?

Sure. Would love to see you.

My mother, God love her, is the sweetest, kindest woman on the planet, and had chosen the world’s biggest dickhead to marry. My father had been a prick from what I remember, but he had rolled out by my fifth birthday, leaving Mom with five kids to raise solo. He had popped in and out a few times but mostly was out. I had heard about three years earlier he had gone to prison for stealing forty grand in copper out of a salvage site but I didn’t know if he was out or not. I didn’t care.

Is Christian going to be there?

It was a loaded question and I knew it would upset her. She thought my brother and I should just hug it out and forgive and forget. Which was as damn unrealistic as world peace. But until that happened, she preferred us not to be in the same room together just as much as I did. Lorraine didn’t like conflict. Which was why she had stayed married to my father rather than confront him on his many flaws, from womanizing, to gambling, to drinking.

Yes, maybe you should come tomorrow.

Okay.

Part of me wanted to go over there anyway and confront my brother about talking shit to Sophie. But then I knew I would be raging all night. Which meant I would drink as much as I could get my hands on. And then I would put a serious damper on a night with Sophie. She didn’t need to see my mess that up close and personal. And she deserved a second night even better than the first.

How did I know she deserved that?

No freaking clue.

But my gut was telling me to do right by Sophie. That almost nothing in my life was worth much at the moment, but this? This I could do.

I drank orange soda, letting its sweet, sugary, cool fizz settle my rebellious gut as I thought about Sophie. The air was briny, but all I could think about was Sophie’s scent, and how sweetly she had come apart for me.

One and done.

Christian could fuck himself.

But the moment was ruined. Now, as I watched the water dance beneath the sunlight, Christian and Ali, fucking in her bed, overtook thoughts of Sophie in mine. Like always, my brother intruded into anything that was good in my life.

I wished I had a drink.