Chapter 14
Love is like a fire. One good match will keep you warm for years. Of course, if you’re not careful, it can also burn everything down.
— MATCHMAKING MAMAS
Bryson
I walked into a little tailor’s shop tucked into an alley that ran between two downtown buildings. A tiny sign in the window read Perfect Fit.
There was a mannequin in the corner, displaying a formal black tux and cummerbund, and two small racks held suit jackets in black, gray, and blue. The whole place could have fit into my tiny room for rent on Grand Avenue.
An older gentleman emerged from a door to a backroom. “Ah, you must be Branson Larkin. So nice to meet you.”
He extended his hand.
“Right, yes,” I said, reaching out to shake.
I could have explained I was Branson’s twin, but it seemed easier to just roll with his assumption. When I’d gone into work today, Branson had looked tired and stressed. He was supposed to be gearing up for the happiest day of his life, but all the planning was wearing him out.
He and Caitlyn had spent hours hashing out the seating chart. I’d offered to take this fitting off his plate. As the best man, I’d need to be fitted for a tux too, so it wasn’t a great sacrifice on my part.
“I’m Mr. Oleander. So nice to meet you.”
“You do all the tailoring yourself?”
“I do. My grandfather started this shop, and my father took over after him. It’s a bit of a family tradition.”
“Wow, I guess so. That’s cool.”
The door chimed behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. Silas stepped inside, looking already perfectly tailored in a charcoal suit and pale pink shirt with lavender tie. Damn, this man could be a model.
He met my gaze with a tentative smile, and I realized he also expected me to be Branson. My heart dropped into my stomach, and I quickly looked back to Mr. Oleander. “Should we get started?”
“Yes, of course. Take off your jacket, and I’ll go fetch my measuring tape.”
I shrugged off my wool coat and Silas stepped up beside me, extending his arm to hold it. “Cait asked me to come over. She didn’t trust Branson not to go rogue and end up wearing a powder blue atrocity.”
I laughed. “He’s not that bad. I mean, I— Wait.” I turned toward him, surprised. “You said Branson. You could tell I wasn’t him?”
“Of course I can tell.”
“You couldn’t tell a couple of weeks ago,” I pointed out, perhaps unwisely.
Silas’s eyes narrowed. “Well, sure, I didn’t know there were two of you then. I had never met Branson. But now that I’ve been around you both, it’s easy to tell.”
“How?” I asked, intrigued. We’d fooled our own parents over the years. How could Silas so easily tell us apart so quickly?
“You stand different.” Silas hung my jacket on a coat tree and stepped in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders and smoothing the fabric. “You’re more relaxed.”
“So I slouch?”
He smiled, eyes flicking up to meet mine, causing my heart to stutter. “No. You wear an easy confidence. He carries more stress.” He shrugged. “But also, you’re always smiling.”
“For you, maybe,” I said, lips quirking.
Silas gazed at my mouth, and my body tightened at the thought of the kiss outside Taco Loco. Was he thinking about it? Did he still crave that connection as much as I did?
“All right, let’s get you measured,” Mr. Oleander announced as he rejoined us. “Branson, are you wearing an undershirt? If so, please take off your outer garment. I’ll get a better measurement that way.”
Silas raised an eyebrow as he realized I was playing my brother’s part. Hopefully he wouldn’t think I had set out to fool him.
“Uh, okay.” I unbuttoned my shirt, hyper aware of Silas watching me undress. God. What I’d give for us to be alone right now. I shrugged out of the sleeves, and Silas took the garment from me, leaving me in a thin white undershirt.
“Okay, better,” Mr. Oleander murmured as he unrolled his tape long my inner arm. “Mm-hmm. Good average length.”
I gave Silas a look over Oleander’s head, wondering if his mind was going to the same gutter as mine. He hid a smile and looked away. Oleander moved on to wrapping the tape around my upper chest, then my waist. Then he went to his knees, to measure along my inseam.
I cleared my throat, trying not to think about how much I’d prefer Silas to be on his knees for me, and Mr. Oleander finally rose to his feet. “Okay, good. Now we just have to settle on the style. We have the traditional tux, of course.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
“We have some more modern trends popular with grooms, however,” Mr. Oleander continued. “We have a lovely emerald green that’s in fashion. We’ve got a rust-colored patterned jacket that’s quite popular. A well-fitted suit can offer a more contemporary look.”
I sent Silas a panicked look. “Uh, I don’t know what to choose.”
He smiled. “I think we’ll stick with the traditional tux with this one, Mr. Oleander. Branson doesn’t strike me as a trend-setter.”
I smirked. Silas was right, though it might be amusing to choose something bold and watch him try to pull it off. Caitlyn would kill me for pranking him on his wedding day, though. Too bad.
“Traditional is good,” I agreed.
“Okay, then,” Mr. Oleander said. “We should discuss the color theme for the vest—”
“The groomsmen will wear emerald cummerbunds and bowties to match the bridesmaids’ dresses, but I think we should set off the groom with a different style. Perhaps a full emerald vest. What do you think, Branson?”
I frowned. I really didn’t care for my brother’s name on his tongue. He should be saying Bryson while looking at me with those sharp blue eyes. But his gaze lingered on my chest, where my thin shirt clung to the lines of my body. He still wanted me, no matter what he said.
“That sounds great.”
“Go ahead and put your shirt back on,” Mr. Oleander said, glancing between us. “I’m sure your bride will be very happy with the fit. Don’t you think, Silas?”
There seemed to be a hidden message in his words. Silas’s cheeks turned pink. “Of course. Cait adores Branson. They’re a lovely couple, and I’m going to do everything I can to make their day perfect.”
“Well, I certainly hope so.”
Mr. Oleander went behind his counter to write up the order.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing.” Silas handed over my shirt.
“Didn’t seem like nothing. He seemed a little admonishing, and you looked embarrassed.”
“Just forget it.”
“But—”
“He thinks I’m eye fucking the groom, okay?” He turned even redder. “He thinks you’re Branson, so now he’s trying to caution me against something inappropriate.”
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Eye-fucking me.”
“Ugh.” He spun away and raised his hands over his face. “Maybe.”
I slid my arms into my shirt and came up behind him.
“Good. I want you to look at me.” I wrapped my arms around him from behind and kissed his neck. “I want you in my bed again so much it hurts.”
Silas slowly turned in my arms, eyes conflicted. “I can’t date someone right now. It’s not you. It’s just I don’t think—”
“So don’t date me,” I said quickly. “Just…feel with me.” I tugged him tight against me and ran my nose along his ear. “Feels good, right?”
He shivered. “Yes…”
“Don’t you want me to touch you again, Silas?” I slid a hand down to caress his ass, and he melted against me with a groan.
I released him and stepped back. He swayed forward, as if he already missed being in my arms. “What are you—”
“I’ll go tell Mr. Oleander who I really am. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
“Oh.”
“Your reputation is important to you, and you’re a damn good wedding planner. I wouldn’t want to mess that up.”
His gaze went soft. “Thank you for that.”
I crossed the room to the counter, where Mr. Oleander was concentrating on his paperwork, lips pursed. “I forgot to tell you that I’ll need a second tux for my brother.”
He glanced up. “Your brother?”
“The groom, Branson. I’m actually his twin.”
He straightened and glanced across the shop to where Silas was retrieving my coat. “So you and Silas…”
“I’d like to be, yes,” I said with a quick smile. “Silas isn’t so sure. I’m trying to persuade him.”
“You were making good progress, I’d wager,” Mr. Oleander said, relaxing now that he realized Silas wasn’t cheating with his groom. “A second tux, you said? Are you two identical?”
“We are.”
“In body weight as well? There are sometimes differences that will affect the fit.”
“Good point. We’re very close, but I’ll have him stop by so you can assess for yourself. Any differences would be minor.”
He nodded. “All right, I can get started then. But do have him check in with me.”
Silas approached, holding out my coat. “You have everything you need, Mr. Oleander?”
“I certainly do. Bryson has been very helpful.”
Silas nodded. “Good. Thanks for your time.”
He headed for the door.
Mr. Oleander raised his bushy eyebrows. “Well, what are you doing, son? Go after him.”
“Right. Thanks.” I jogged for the door and stepped out into the alley, the cold air hitting me like a slap across the face as I hurried to stuff my arms into my coat.
Silas was already at the corner. I broke into a run to catch him. “Sy! Wait!”
He turned, looking uncertain. “What is it?”
“Please don’t put that wall back up between us,” I said, breathless. “We don’t have to be anything you’re not ready for, but this is killing me.”
“Me too,” he confessed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me kiss you again. I’m not above begging—”
He threw his arms around my neck, going up on his tiptoes to press his lips to mine. I wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him closer, parting my lips to taste this tongue.
He moaned softly against my mouth.
I pushed him against the brick wall and kissed him like it would be my last chance. And hell, with Silas, who knew? It really might be.
Silas slid his hands under my coat and outer shirt, tugging at my undershirt until he found skin. He ran his hands up my flanks.
I broke the kiss to feast on his neck. “God, Silas. Let me have you again. Please. My place is only a couple of blocks away.”
He shuddered. “Just sex?”
I hesitated, and he tensed. But no way was I letting a label ruin this. “Whatever you want, Sy.” I recaptured his lips in a desperate kiss. “Just no more pretending we don’t want each other.”
His hot breath gusted against my cheek as I drew back. “Okay. Take me to your place. I’ve got an hour before my next appointment.”