Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend: An Enemies To Lovers Romance (The Sweet Twins Collection)

Chapter Twenty Six

Christopher

Hannah lets me hold Lucy’s leash, and I feel giddy as I hold her hand in tandem, walking through the bustling streets of LA.

I suppress a grin that threatens to fly off my face if I let it go, looking down lovingly at Lucy’s snuffling nose, wiggling at a patch of weeds growing from a sidewalk crack, the wet sheen of her nose shining in the light.

Her body follows suit, wiggling with all the excitement of a human who just won the lottery, her tongue drooping down to the concrete as she sniffs.

I think I know how she feels.

“You’ve done a really good job with her, Hannah. She doesn’t pull at all,” I tell her proudly, squeezing her hand with mine as we walk.

“Aw, thank you. It was easy. She’s naturally a good girl already.”

Hannah leans into me, her skin comforting and warm against mine. I look over at her as she looks ahead, her eyelashes golden in the sun and her red hair shining.

“Oh, look, right up there!” I point at the farmers’ market excitedly and walk faster, pulling Hannah along with me.

“I have never seen a man so excited about vegetables,” she tells me, giggling, as she speeds up. Lucy breaks into a jog, her ears flying behind her.

“It’s not just vegetables.”

“Oh, fruit, too?” she teases, smiling widely.

“Yeah, and legumes. Just come on.”

We slow down as we near the entrance.

I gawk at the community of it all, the booths set up under a wide tarp, people weaving around each other to get to where they’re going in the narrow aisle, all the quiet conversations happening at once.

I look around and realize Hannah has broken away from me. She’s at a booth of jams, bent over at the waist and reading the labels.

“Your mother is quick,” I tell Lucy, who sits beside me calmly, her mouth opened in what appears to be a gentle smile across her furry face.

I gesture with a nod toward Hannah, and Lucy seems to understand, standing up to walk with me over to meet her.

“Found something already?”

Hannah whirls around to me, a grin to match her sparkling green eyes.

“Okay, I get it. This is fun. Look at all these jams. Now I may not be a bok choy expert, but jams I know. I’ve made plenty of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in my lifetime.”

“Which one are you thinking?” I ask, chuckling at the reminder of her limited cooking skills. I find it so touching that she instantly thought of her childhood PBJ when surrounded by all these options.

I’m suddenly flooded by the image of Hannah and me in the kitchen, making lunches for our children.

I squeeze past her, picturing her cutting them just right into triangles, as I rest my hand on her lower waist and see her flush at my touch.

Tears threaten to prick at my eyes at the realization that I might not have to go through life alone.

Hannah’s already enriched my life so much.

While I just want to hold onto her tightly and keep her wrapped in my arms forever, I know that she’s younger than I am and I have to let her pursue her dreams of a successful business and hope that she decides to remain by my side.

“Peach habanero? Does that sound good to you, too?” she asks, her finger on her chin as she surveys the options.

“Peach habanero is one of our best sellers,” the woman at the booth says.

Her hair is in a fluffy gray bob and her eyes are a gentle brown under a harsh green eyeshadow applied quickly.

She smiles gently at Hannah. “Perfect for an adventurous PBJ”

Hannah straightens. “Well, I was also looking at the blackberry mint.”

“Ooh, well now, that’s one of my personal favorites. I guess it’s up to whether you wanna trust me or the masses.”

Her thin-lipped smile reveals perfect, fake teeth, and I wonder briefly if I’ll lose my teeth when I’m older, too.

“Do you make these?” Hannah asks, tucking her hands into her back pockets, her eyes trained on the woman’s.

Hannah has this way of making eye contact that feels like you’re in a tunnel with her.

“Sure do, lovely. Most of them are my grandmother’s recipes, been in the family for a long time. But a few of them are my own creations.”

She winks at Hannah, who smiles broadly, her eyes flitting to the labels again.

“Which one are you thinking?”

Hannah turns to look at me as I approach her and snake a hand around her waist to tuck my hand into her front pocket. “Which one do you think?” she asks.

“Hmmm,” I mumble, pretending to think about it. I look up at the old woman and say, “We’ll take them all.”

Her eyes widen a small amount, then relax as she decides she’s misheard. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said we’ll take them all. One of each. Do you have a box or something we can carry them in?”

“Sure, sure do, yes.” She pulls out a box from underneath her booth and wastes no time packing up one of each of the 26 flavors.

“What are you doing?” Hannah asks through a toothy smile, whispering so the woman doesn’t hear.

I shrug. “I want to try them all. Don’t you?”

“Well. Yeah.”

“Then that’s about all there is to it.”

I kiss Hannah’s cheek and hand the woman $400 which includes a $100 tip. “Thank you,” I tell the woman and pass Hannah Lucy’s leash so that I can take the box.

“No, thank you. Thank you, thank you.”

We nod in response and keep walking, Hannah’s arm snaked in the crook of my elbow.

“Why did you do that?” she asks me, keeping a watchful eye on Lucy’s leash to make sure that it doesn’t wrap around anyone’s unsuspecting ankle.

“To impress me?”

Taken aback, I look over at her sharply, and then a laugh bubbles out of me.

“I guess so, yeah. Did it work?”

Smirking, her eyes still on Lucy, she murmurs, “I guess so, yeah.”

I kiss the top of her head haphazardly between her bouncy steps, my lips sliding across her hair. I watch with satisfaction as a blush creeps into her cheeks.

“Oh, let’s grab some veggies from this guy. His produce is amazing.”

Hannah’s laugh sprinkles out of her. “God, you’re a nerd. Okay, let’s go.”

I walk up to the farmer who sold me the bok choy. His mustache is freshly trimmed and even this time, but he can’t hide his crooked teeth when he smiles.

“Well, hey there. I remember you. Who’s this?”

“This is my girlfriend,” I announce, looking over at Hannah’s widening eyes.

“Does she know that?” he asks with a smile.

“She does now,” I respond, knocking her hip with mine as I clutch onto the heavy box for dear life, very aware of the mess that dropping it would make.

“What have you got for me today?”

“Well, congratulations. How would you feel about some radishes and zucchini? They’re growing like weeds, just enormous and full of flavor.” His eyes twinkle as he looks between Hannah and me.

“Sure, lay ‘em on me.” I barely finish getting the words out before Hannah doubles over and squats down low to the ground.

At first, I think that she’s looking closely at something in his booth, but the farmer says in his heavy accent, “Miss, are you okay?”

I look down at her and realize that her pallor has gone even paler than before, and she’s closed her eyes.

“Hannah? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got your hands full. Let me help.”

The farmer crosses over to our side and helps lift Hannah up by her elbow.

We walk out of the cramped space together and to a shady spot under a tree. Hannah leans on the man in a way that tells me she really isn’t feeling well.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I whisper to her as I set down the box of jams.

I envelop her in my arms and rub her back before she pushes me off her and doubles over to throw up on the ground in the grass by the tree.

I gather her long, copper hair in my hands and hold it away from her face for her as she continues to vomit, her wretches loud and punctuated by agonized gasps for air.

The farmer fans Hannah’s face as I hold her hair, and eventually when she stops, she stays still a moment, her hands on her knees. She looks up at me, her cheeks red with effort, and tells me, “I think I need to go home.”

“Of course, let me call a cab. Or let me call your brother.”

“No, no, she can’t wait. Let me drive you. I’ll get someone else to watch my booth.”

“No,” Hannah gasps. “I don’t want to bother anyone. If I could just have a little water, please. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know. It’s the strangest thing, but I smelled something weird, and it just made me feel so nauseated. I’m okay now. Let’s just walk, it’s fine.”

“Hannah…I don’t think that’s a good idea. It sounds like you’re sick. Let’s just let him drive us. It’s okay to lean on people,” I protest, afraid that something’s really wrong.

“It’s really not an inconvenience. I’m happy to help.”

“No! I just want to keep walking. Please,” Hannah begs, her color returning.

“I don’t know, Hannah.” I look around, as though someone will show up with a sign that tells me what to do.

Anxiety crawls up my chest, and I feel overcome by worry for her, the puddle of vomit at our feet a stark reminder of how bad she felt just mere moments before.

“Well, now, if the lady says she’s fine, I’m sure she is,” the farmer responds, running his finger through his mustache. He pinches it at the end and smiles at me.

“I’ll see you guys soon enough. Go ahead and take those vegetables with you.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, unsure, and as Hannah starts to walk away, Lucy anxiously bumping her knees with her nose, the farmer catches my elbow and tells me in a conspiratorial tone, “That’s exactly how we found out my wife was pregnant. Might wanna convince the little lady to take a test.”

“What do you mean?”

“Strong sense of smell. It’s how it starts for a lot of women.” He taps his nose and then his head knowingly and smiles. “Congratulations, Papa.”

“Are you coming?” Hannah calls from down the block.

“Sorry!” I pick up the box from the ground and hurry after her, glancing back at the man. He smiles and taps his nose again.