Chapter 2 #2
After tossing them back, he took a drink of cola to wash them down.
“Is everyone happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, he got to his feet, or rather foot, and—hobbling—started back to his place.
Silence reigned behind him. Not the good kind, but the kind that spelled either trouble or uproarious laughter.
Knowing his friends as he did, he figured on the latter.
Remembering what he’d heard right before getting stung, he turned back and said to Skye, “A dog is a good idea. When do you want to go to the shelter? I’ll take you.”
Put on the spot, she stood, too, then needlessly dusted off her backside and stalled.
Ford said, “I’m off at four tomorrow.”
“Shelter closes at six,” Knox offered.
She drew a deep breath, curved her mouth in a tight smile, and said, “That should give us enough time to see the dogs.”
Something dangerously close to relief loosened Ford’s chest. He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at four fifteen.” Then, keeping as much dignity intact as he could and keenly eyeing the grass for more bees, he limped back to his own house. Odd as it all seemed, progress had been made.
Progress to what though? That’s what he didn’t know.
* * *
It shouldn’t matter, yet Skye stared in the mirror, studying her reflection, seeing all the flaws, and taking extra time to try to disguise them. Concealer, contour shadow, the right application of blusher . . . Blowing out a breath, she knew it didn’t matter.
Ford shouldn’t matter.
Damn it, he was a neighbor, maybe a bit of a friend now, and he was her wingman. Period. Nothing more than that.
He’d come to the task grudgingly, so she wouldn’t do a single thing to make it more difficult for him.
Such as admire him. Like him. Want him.
She groaned. Wanting guys had never quite worked out for her. She wasn’t just twice burned. She was like . . . five times burned. It sucked.
Her self-esteem had taken a beating, but the desire remained. And why not? She was only twenty-five, healthy, strong and fit.
Sure, she could have a random hookup, but that wasn’t for her.
Clyde would have been so willing, but oh no, her fickle heart hadn’t been interested. That would have been too easy, and she knew by now that somehow, someway, everything was more complicated for her.
When the knock sounded on her door, she froze. He was early.
Fifteen blasted minutes early!
Quickly she fluffed her hair again, pulling forward several long tresses, dragged in a breath, and headed to the living room. Clyde’s persistence prompted her to peek out the window before opening the door.
Well, crap. Worse than Clyde. Worse than Ford jumping the gun.
Aggrieved, she jerked open the door and said, “What are you doing here?”
Laylee, her younger twin by minutes, pressed her way in with a giant smile and an exuberant hug. “Surprise, Skye. I’m taking you to dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Yup. You’re free, and now I’m free, so—”
“Um, see, the thing is . . .”
“Ugh.” Laylee held Skye back so she’d get the full brunt of her frown. “Do not tell me you’re back to seeing Clyde.”
“Nope. I ended that.” And she was doing her best to ensure he was out of her life for good.
“Thank God. He was all wrong for you.” Grabbing Skye’s arm and dragging her to the sofa before she could even close the door, Laylee asked, “How did he take it?” As if to offer sympathy and support, she gripped Skye’s hands.
“I’m sure he was a complete and total jerk, wasn’t he?
I only had to meet Clyde to know it. Strange that you didn’t realize it sooner. ”
“So strange,” Skye said, maybe with a touch of irony. After all, Laylee was the reason Skye had discovered what a jerk Clyde was.
“I’m glad he’s out of the picture. Now you’ll have more time for me. I’m brokenhearted, you know.” Her grin belied that statement.
“Oh, sure,” Skye said. “I can see the tears welling up.”
Laylee laughed. “Well, I should be brokenhearted. Dejected. Forlorn. I’m just not sure I have it in me.”
“Why should you be . . . all that?”
“I got ditched. Can you believe it? Me.”
“Incredible.” Her sister was nothing if not vain. Then again, why shouldn’t Laylee recognize her own beauty? Unlike Skye, she didn’t have a single flaw. The bridge of her nose was not a little too wide. Her lips were not too full. Her ears were dainty. Her brows finely arched.
Compared to Laylee, Skye looked like a troglodyte. The missing link. A direct descendent of a cave dweller. “What fool would do such a thing?”
Waving the question off as unimportant, Laylee said, “Men can’t take a straightforward woman. Cowards, all of them.”
Hmm. Her sister liked to come on strong and fast, pretty much the opposite of Skye, and it often intimidated people. Not that Laylee had ever been serious about a man. She was a serial dater who liked a lot of variety. Again, the opposite of Skye.
“I’m glad you’re single again,” Laylee said, “because now we can be single together. We’ll have so much fun. I know all the best places to find the finest guys.”
And therein was one of the reasons Clyde had come in handy. Skye didn’t like the singles scene. “You know I’m not a partier, and I have zero interest in casual hookups.”
“Meaning you have zero interest in sex?”
With the right guy, she did, but she’d never been able to convince her sister of that.
“Skye,” her sister wailed. “I know that look!”
Wrinkling her nose, Skye admitted, “Far as I can tell, sex is overrated.”
“Oh, honey.” Her tone rich with sympathy, Laylee said, “You’re always picking the wrong guys.”
Every guy she’d ever “picked” had been at Laylee’s suggestion, but Skye refrained from pointing that out. “I have other, more important priorities right now.”
“Ugh, you’re talking about your house again, aren’t you? What is it now? New furniture? New flooring?” Pretending to gag, Laylee asked, “New drapes?”
“I think I’d like a pool.” Seeing Ford’s had inspired her. How nice would it be to float out there on the cool water under the sunshine, maybe with a frosty drink nearby? She could float her troubles away.
“No.” Laylee sat forward. “Enough with the homemaker routine. Next you’ll be adopting five cats and knitting cardigans. You’re young, and that means I’m young. Let’s go out and have fun. Let’s burn up the town. I promise I’ll find you a guy to rock your world, and then you’ll see what I mean.”
Sometimes her sister had a one-track mind.
“I’ll get us something to drink.” Fleeing the couch and darting into the kitchen, Skye wondered how to handle the situation.
She and Laylee were close—twins were like that.
More so than anyone else, she understood her sister.
She saw Laylee’s vulnerabilities, which, granted, weren’t easy to spot in someone so vibrant, outgoing, and assertive.
Growing up with constant comparisons to her more sociable twin had worn down Skye’s confidence. She knew it, but conquering her insecurity wasn’t easy.
Laylee had been the favored twin, Miss Perfection, always admired for her beauty and style, but in many ways, Laylee had found that a difficult standard to bear.
For much of their lives, Skye had worked doubly hard to compensate for her shortcomings, while Laylee had sought a way to shatter illusions of perfection.
Overall, Skye thought they each just wanted to be accepted for who they were, faults and all.
She was stepping back into the room with two colas when Ford glanced around the open door and said, “Knock, knock.”
It took a mere second for Skye to know he’d listened in.
Oh, dear God.
His beautiful green eyes first settled on Skye, and his mouth did this sexy little trick of not quite smiling, yet somehow conveying reassurance, as if to say, “Everything is fine.” Then his gaze shifted to Laylee, and he cocked one eyebrow.
Gaze back to Skye. Back to Laylee. On Skye again as he said, “I didn’t realize you were a twin.”
She hadn’t moved. Actually, neither had Laylee. They both just stared at him.
No one would ever accuse Ford of being shy, so he stepped on in, closed the door, and leaned against it, arms folded. Waiting.
And yes, he looked very fine standing there.
Skye got it together first. “Yes,” she said, trepidation making her smile sickly. “Though you can see that we aren’t identical.”
“Close enough.” Looking only at Skye, he lowered his voice. “Sorry for intruding.”
Because he didn’t blink, she didn’t either. “Ah, um, it’s fine.” Condensation from the colas started to drip over her fingers. “How’s your foot?”
“You could be a nurse. The ice and the antihistamine did the trick.”
“Not tender?”
“Only a little. I can walk.” His sexy mouth curved a tiny bit more. “Are we still on for the shelter?”
The shelter. How did I forget? Her sister had always had a way of throwing her off-balance. “Yes.” Determined now, she stepped to the coffee table and set each drink on a coaster. “Laylee just stopped in, but we won’t be long.”
His gaze moved over her face as if he’d never seen her before. Still in that low, gentle tone, he asked, “Would you rather I come back? We can spare a few minutes.”
“No, it’s fine.” Somehow she’d make it so, despite her humiliation. Speaking of that . . . With a hard nudge, she tried to disrupt Laylee’s gawking.
Didn’t work.
No wonder, considering the force of Ford’s presence.
The man entered a room and all the air turned thick and steamy.
She still recalled the first time she’d seen him in his yard.
Tall, with a hard, fit physique, dark blond hair, devilish green eyes, and a smile that could weaken a woman’s knees. Confidence. Amusement.
Interest.
He had it all. She loudly cleared her throat, desperate to break the tension. “Laylee, this is my neighbor, Ford Caruso. He’s going with me to a shelter to pick out a dog.” Not a cat, though she wouldn’t mind a cat, too, eventually.
At least cardigans were nowhere on the horizon.