The Right Twin

“Not a chance. Too good-looking, laid-back and not at all uptight.”

“Sarah…” her sister warned, her voice nearly a growl.

“What?”

“Just in case…don’t even think about starting something with him.”

“Good grief. I’m barely over Greg. What makes you think I’m anywhere near ready to jump in the dating pool again?”

“I don’t know. Something in your tone of voice.”

“My tone?” Sarah laughed.

“It’s me, remember? I have a sixth sense about you and men.”

“Right. Like Helga claims to have her all-seeing man eye?”

“That’s exactly right. Don’t knock it. And even if he is hot, you won’t have time for romance. And another thing—I don’t want anyone thinking I’m fraternizing with the guests. Or, for that matter, cheating on Trevor.”

Sarah sighed. “Again, after the head trip Greg pulled on me, I’m in no shape to think about any guy. Plus, I only said the guy was hot. Not that I’m going to marry him and have his babies.”

“There’s no need to get snippy. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Which you will. Trust me, okay?”

After a few beats of silence, Sarah’s twin said, “I’ll think about it.”

TWO HOURS LATER, Sarah wished she were anywhere other than immersed in serving the inn’s hectic lunch. Backing against the kitchen’s pass-through door, Sarah took a deep breath, willing her pulse to slow as she pasted on one of her sister’s trademark serene smiles. One thing that helped her relax, at least partially, was that the sun-flooded dining room was a world away from the frenzied pace of the kitchen.

She took a deep breath and then headed for the man who had already become her least favorite guest.

“About time,” Mr. Standridge said. With his double chin, permed suspiciously black hair and small gold hoop earring, Sarah imagined the portly man as a retired pirate. Only that picture was somewhat skewed by the fact that Mrs. Standridge’s loose white bun made her a dead ringer for Mrs. Claus. Although, Sarah thought as she set two plates of roast beef in front of them, stranger things could happen than Mrs. Claus and Blackbeard having a scandalous affair at her sister’s inn.

Not trying too terribly hard to hide her grin, she looked up to find herself face-to-face with Shane Peters. His angular features sported a half day’s stubble, and his smiling eyes were as blue as the berries on her sister’s stationery logo. Quite simply, the man was breathtaking. And the fact that she’d even noticed was a sure sign that, yes, stranger things than a pirate Mrs. Claus scandal could happen!

Mr. Standridge cleared his throat. “Freshly cracked pepper, please.”

“And I still haven’t gotten my Chablis,” Mrs. Standridge complained.

“Need more of my help?” Shane asked with a teasing grin, helping himself to the best seat in the room beside open French doors.

“I’m thinking maybe so,” she said with a discreet wink that she hadn’t intended on being flirty.

“Ma’am?” Mr. Standridge glowered.

“I would really like more tea,” Mrs. Helsing said with a wag of her empty glass. As robust as the Standridges were, the Helsings were stick-thin and white. Pasty yet slick. Complexions like Crisco.

“And when you get a chance,” Mr. Helsing said, “could I please get a new fork? The tines on this one are smudged.”

“Certainly, sir. Right away.”

“I hate to be contrary,” the woman who’d introduced herself as “the widow” Naomie Young said in a cottony tone that matched her fragile frame and pale blue eyes, “but I prefer white bread to pumpernickel.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have fresh white bread right out.”

Sarah managed a feeble smile, took one last intrigued glance at Shane, then worked up a sweat attempting to fulfill her guests’ never-ending requests. If only the two of them had met under other circumstances.

“THAT WAS DELICIOUS,” Heath said, toward the meal’s end, to the couple he’d heard addressed as the Standridges. He introduced himself as his brother had instructed, being careful to maintain a chatty, conversational tone and not tipping off anyone as to the true nature of his visit. “So far, what do you think of the inn?” he asked.

“The decor’s lovely,” Mrs. Standridge offered, glancing over her shoulder before speaking again. Checking to see if Sadie was out of the room? “But the food…” She blanched.

“You didn’t care for it?” Heath asked, more than a little surprised, since he’d enjoyed his roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy.

“It was tasty enough,” the woman said, “but a smidge heavy for my tastes. Reminiscent of a high-end TV dinner.”

“Not that we were eavesdropping,” the female half of the Helsing couple said, “but I booked this weekend because of fantastic recommendations from several of our friends. I enjoyed the meal, but the service seemed lackluster, if not altogether slow.”

Mr. Helsing nodded. “There were several times when my iced-tea glass was empty, and I had to wait a full three minutes or more for a refill.”

The horror.

Why, Heath couldn’t say, but as he made careful mental notes of a litany of bogus halfhearted complaints, he felt sorry for Sadie. According to his brother, the Blueberry Inn was one of the best-kept secrets in the Midwest—which was why the Zodor’s editor in chief was so hot to get the scoop.

Keeping that in mind—and registering the fact that he’d completely enjoyed his own lunch—Heath took his fellow diners’ complaints with a grain of salt. By the time the disgruntled bunch had wandered off to their rooms or the garden for reading or an afternoon nap, he’d pretty much decided that if dinner was as tasty as lunch, he’d simply strike the petty negativity from his files.

Experience had taught him that building your own business was tough. Other than the time it had taken Sadie to get him registered and that mile-a-minute room description, he hadn’t noticed anything even remotely remiss. And so what if she had ever so slightly fudged those couple of tasks? Just as he’d been burned by the discovery that it was his latest game design that Tess had really lusted after, maybe there was some sort of behind-the-scenes situation going on with Sadie. Something she had too much class to let him or any of her other guests see.

He’d just discreetly tucked his notepad into his jacket pocket when the woman at the center of his thoughts entered the dining room. The fact that the mere sight of her produced a pleasurable jolt set him on edge. The last time he’d felt an instant attraction had been with Tess.

“Whew,” Sarah said, drawing out the chair opposite Heath’s. Her pale complexion was flushed, and the afternoon’s heat dampened the tendrils that hugged the nape of her neck where she’d pulled back her hair. Would her skin taste salty? That tempting spot on her neck? As if it were possible to shake the thought from his mind, Heath shook his head, but the motion didn’t help. Big surprise. “That was tough.”

“I’d have thought you’d be an old pro at a simple lunch.”

“Oh, sure,” she said. “I just didn’t get much rest last night. But now that my right-hand person has finally fixed her car’s flat, I’ve got time for a breather.”

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Thanks.”

After a few moments’ awkward silence, he leaned forward, toying with his blue napkin. “Not that it’s my business, but why?”

“Why what? Why was Helga’s tire flat?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “Why’d you get a lousy night’s rest?”

“Oh, that.” She leaned back in her chair.

Had his question been too forward? Probably. Regardless, Heath forged ahead. “Simple enough question.”

“W-why do you care?”

Would Heath’s brother care?

Who could explain it, but for whatever odd reason, Heath felt a compelling urge to know something more about what made the lovely innkeeper tick. From the time they’d met until now, her appearance had gone from frazzled to casual grace. Which image was the real Sadie? Over the course of the weekend, would he get the chance to learn the answer? With elegant fingers, she traced the floral-patterned white-on-white tablecloth.

“No reason,” he said, covering for himself when it seemed she preferred to avoid the topic. “Sorry I asked. I was just trying to make small talk, but maybe my question came out as invasive.”

“No,” she said, staring at Heath straight on and then sighing. “Truthfully, I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night for a fairly simple reason. You.”

Chapter Two

“Me?” Eyebrows raised, Heath said, “I’d like to be flattered, but judging by your pained expression, it wasn’t my devastating good looks that kept you up.”

Sarah laughed. “Not specifically you, per se, but folks like you. Guests.”

“Why? I mean, this is your livelihood. Has been for, what, five years you said?”

She nodded, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” One that Sadie had shared with her not too long ago. “The more I’m in the business, the more it seems my guests are getting harder to spoil. To well and truly please. The big chains have phenomenal employee bases, while I’m just me—and a few trusted employees who’ve become dear friends.”

“Friends who help fend off me? The enemy?” He laughed again, clearly poking fun at himself.

Was it wrong to be affected by the rich, mellow voice of the guy that your sister had specifically told you was hands-off? Probably, but Shane Peters’s laughter struck Sarah as delicious. Tempting. Like a superrich dessert you knew you shouldn’t have but were hard-pressed to resist. Alas, because of her deep sense of respect for Sadie, she would resist. Not only because the man was off-limits for the sake of her sister, but because of the pain she still felt from her involvement with Greg.

She wasn’t ready to open herself up to another man.

“You’re hardly the enemy,” Sarah said. “It’s just that…I’ve worked hard for this.” She gestured toward the opulence of the inn’s dining room. Antique tables, linens and china. Blue-and-white-toile walls and ornate moldings. Gentle sun slanting through open French doors, leading to a dreamy garden. A hundred varieties of blooms that Sarah couldn’t begin to name. Sweet and lovely, humming with butterflies and bees. Beyond that, a lake so crystalline and blue and in perfect harmony with the wedding cake of a house on its shore that her sister had said she’d shed a few tears the first time she’d seen it. And all of this—every last bit—was in Sarah’s hands right now.

Granted, her sister was arguably deranged when it came to her love for the place, but Sarah knew that Sadie had worked hard to achieve all this, and out of love and respect for her twin, Sarah intended to maintain her sister’s standards. Even if the dreaded reviewer never showed.

“Sometimes,” Sarah said, again sharing more of Sadie than herself, “I want perfection so much, that I…” She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m just rambling on about nothing, when you’re here to relax and not listen to me whine.”

Shane flashed her a smile of such warm concern Sarah knew in a heartbeat he was sincere. And then she swallowed a sour taste in her mouth over the notion that at the moment she was anything but sincere.

Oh, she was sincere in terms of being nervous. But it pained her to think that this compassionate man was actually sympathizing with her over a lie.

“Relax,” he said. “From all I’ve heard, this place is a little slice of heaven, right here in your corner of Missouri. And, you know, maybe this bout of nerves is your body’s way of telling you you’ve been working too hard. Maybe if you’d try stealing a few minutes for yourself here and there, you’d be back to business as usual.”

Great theory. Trouble was business as usual for Sarah consisted of working from eight to six at the accounting firm of Geoffrey, Deloite & Bartholomew. It was Sarah’s dream to one day have her name added to the list of partners. Numbers were her game, whereas for as long as she could remember, Sadie had been into the whole hearth-and-home thing.

Like her father, Sarah had toyed with the idea of going into physics, but seeing how she also had a thing for nice shoes and expensive handbags, she’d opted for accounting over science. Where Shane had been telling “Sadie” to relax, the reality was that the real Sadie was thrilled with her life. It was Sarah who needed rest and relaxation to put things into perspective. What had happened with Greg had shaken her to the core, had made her distrust not only other people but herself.

“What’s the matter?” her new friend asked in a light tone. “My pep talk was supposed to bring back your smile—not make you scowl.”

“Sorry,” she said with a hesitant laugh. “Promise, I’ll try to do more guffawing.”

“You’d better,” Heath teased. “Otherwise I just may remind you of that full-satisfaction clause in your ads. You know, the one that promises guests will be one hundred percent thrilled with their stay or you’ll give them a full refund?”

Groaning, Sarah said, “I know the one.” That silly clause was another reason that she was having to step in for her sister. God forbid any guest should have a complaint and not be able to deliver it to the inn’s owner herself. “Dumbest thing I ever did, making that promise.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Heath toyed with a silver-and-crystal saltshaker. “That phrase strikes me as pretty sexy. The confidence behind your statement shows you to be a powerful woman. Wholly in control.”

Ha! Her sister was all that.

Sarah, however, had never felt more out of control.

Pulse racing, mouth dry, head spinning—she had serious problems. Not the least of which was that just this once she wanted to feel that way again. Powerful and in control. She used to, but then Greg had gone and done a number on her head. Lying about so many things that her whole life had been turned upside down. Leading her to this moment, when here she sat with an amazing guy and was actually afraid to like him!

Beyond the primary fact that Sadie would disapprove, Sarah knew she wasn’t ready for even casual flirtation, let alone anything more serious. Like the kind of deep-seated emotions called for in mutual trust.

“Sadie?” he prompted. “You’re scowling again.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, “and it’s getting tiresome.” Determined to cast aside doubt and worry for the few remaining minutes she had before she needed to help her sister’s crew get started on dinner, Sarah said to her guest, “Let’s change the topic to something more lighthearted. Like you telling me what you do for fun?”

Glancing out at the garden, then looking up at the ceiling and ultimately giving her a shrug, he said, “Work keeps me busy.”

“Oh, come on,” she teased. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys for whom work is his entire life. What’s your passion? What do you do for a living that’s so all-consuming?”

“I’m a computer game designer. Ever heard of Seether?”

“Heck, yeah. That’s only like PC Gaming’s game of the year. You designed that?”

“You don’t have to sound so shocked.”

“I’m not, it’s just that I’m a huge fan. That’s one of the best games ever.”

“And you’ve had time to play…when?”

“Very rarely,” Sarah quickly volleyed, remembering that she was temporarily her sister, who had never in her life played a computer game other than solitaire. “But when I have, those three-headed nanobeasts are hell. Meeting the guy who actually dreamed them up is a thrill.”

“Wow, thanks,” he said, his gaze darting away, as if her praise embarrassed him. “Talking to you could be seriously good for my ego.”

“With your talent, I wouldn’t think you’d need an ego boost.”

Grinning and shaking his head, he admitted, “That used to be the case, but then, I met up with a woman who—”

“Sadie, hon,” Helga called through the kitchen door. “When you get a sec, I need your help with the dinner menu.”

Sarah groaned. “Be right there!” Why did Helga the Horrible need her right now? Just when the conversation had taken such an interesting turn? “Sorry. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to continue our chat later.”

“Sure,” he said, dazzling her with his smile. “Just so happens I’ll be around till Sunday.”

“WHAT?” HEATH BARKED into his cell upon recognizing the caller ID. He was intent on finishing his run around the inn’s lake. Even more, he was intent on working his body so hard that his brain would no longer have the energy to dwell on Sadie’s fascinating smile.

“Ouch,” his twin said over the crackling static of a bad connection. “Is that a sign that things aren’t going so great?”

“No,” Heath said, bare-chested, hunched over and breathing hard alongside a pile of boulders. The blazing afternoon sun bore down on him. His memory of his hostess dressed in denim Daisy Dukes made him hotter still. “As far as you’re concerned, everything’s fine.”

“So, then, what’s your problem?”

“You know the owner?”

“Sadie Connelly?”

“Yeah. What’s the scoop on her?” Heath wanted to know.

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s supposedly a great chef and all. Why?”

“No biggie,” Heath replied. It was just that for the first time since Tess had crushed his spirit he felt like his old self—at least in terms of his manhood. If manhood was even a word? Something about Sadie Connelly intrigued him. Attracted him. Made him want to slough off the funk he’d been mired in and take another chance on life. All of which should have been a good thing. But seeing how the last time he’d felt any of that he’d been burned, Heath wasn’t sure whether he should be happy about rejoining the land of the living or scared as hell.

“You still there?” A car revved in the background.

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t have a thing for this woman, do you? I mean, you’ve only been there a few hours.”

“No. No way, man. She’s a looker and all, but you know me. I’m single and lovin’ it.”

Hale snorted.

“What?”

“Layin’ it on a bit thick, aren’t you? From the few pictures I’ve seen of her, you could do worse. Only, seeing how you’re supposed to be me, kindly refrain from fraternizing. It’s against my professional code of ethics.”

“Who said anything about fraternizing?” Heath asked, scooping up a stone and skipping it across the lake’s glassy surface.

“Okay, great,” Hale said over more engine noise. “Look, I’ve got to go, but I did remember one thing about Miz Sadie and that’s that I’m pretty sure she’s engaged, which definitely puts her off-limits. Meaning, you might wanna check for a ring before trying out any more of your patented moves.” Hale, who was the family playboy and knew full well that Heath didn’t have any such thing as moves, patented or otherwise, finished by laughing.

“Screw you.”

“Lighten up. I’m just joshing, man. I’m sure you’ve got all the right stuff to make Miz Sadie swoon. Only, don’t do it. It’d be bad for business.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Heath said, eyeing the idyllic inn across the lake. Maybe two more times around the dirt trail would make his head a little clearer. Sadie engaged? No way. But then, if she was well on her way to tying the knot, that’d probably be best for all concerned. Especially him!

“Fine,” Hale said. “Only, don’t let me down, bro. I’ve got a lot riding on this review.”

Then you should be here, doing it yourself.

“I’M IMPRESSED,” SARAH called from the lakeside gazebo, where she stood with a cold bottle of water in her hand. “You’re speedy.”

Heath gave her a nod, stopping to brace his hands on his knees. “And if that water’s for me, you’re my new best friend.”

“Mmm…” She wagged the bottle, then tossed it his way. “Looks as if you just got yourself a pal.”

He twisted open the white plastic top, then half emptied the bottle in three swigs. “This hits the spot. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I was picking herbs when I spotted you across the lake. I figured you’d need a cool drink when you finished.”

“You figured right.” He eased onto the wide gazebo steps, rolling the sweating bottle across his forehead.

Sarah tried doing the polite thing, looking away from his chest, but up close and personal like this, well…She licked her lips. The man was magnificent. Broad shoulders, sharply defined abs and pecs. Shane might design computer games for a living, but he certainly wasn’t your garden-variety computer geek.

Trying to play it cool, Sarah said, “I’m pretty much a slug.”

“Oh?” Shane arched a brow.

Her cheeks reddened when she caught him appraising her form.

“Looks like you do all right in the gym to me.” Had it not been for the playful light in his eyes and the fun in his tone, she’d have—what? Thought that he was flirting? So what if he was? Bringing him water hadn’t been entirely altruistic. Yes, it might have been something her sister would’ve done, but Sadie would have already been on her way, eager to meet the next guests’ needs before they’d even known they’d had them.

Sarah, on the other hand, found herself wanting a little more than to pick up their earlier conversation right where they’d left off. “Thank you,” she said at last. “I think.”

“You’re welcome. So…” He took another swig of water. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I’d’ve thought you’d be knee-deep in inn business all afternoon.”

Sadie would have been. Not entirely trusting Sarah’s innkeeping prowess, however, her twin had made certain extra help was on hand, so that the demands on Sarah would be kept to a minimum. “I, uh, have the pleasure of having a full staff tonight, leaving me to spend more time getting to know my guests.”

“And have you?”

“What?”

“Gotten to know anyone especially well? Say, Mr. and Mrs. Standridge?” The twinkle in his eyes let her in on a secret. That apparently he, as well as she, would rather eat tacks for dinner than spend free time with the disagreeable couple.

“They seem sweet,” she said, slipping into the perfect-innkeeper role, in which she enjoyed all her guests’ company. “Just a little demanding.”

“Uh-huh.” He bottomed-up the water.

“What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much, just lazing around. Unless…don’t suppose you’d want to show me around the place? Give me an exclusive into the behind-the-scenes gossip? Who’s dating whom?”

“I’ll be glad to show you around, but if it’s gossip you want, the place is pretty dull. Aside from a part-time gardener and the guy who tends bar Saturday nights, it’s an all-women staff.”

“Damn.” He feigned disappointment.

And Sarah feigned not having delirious butterflies winging about inside her at the prospect of getting to know Shane Peters better.

“THIS…” HEATH’S TOUR guide said with a flourish, “is our world-famous Tennessee Williams Suite. He dropped in himself to give it his official seal of approval.”

“I thought you’d only been in business five years?”

“True.”

“But he died, like, in the early eighties.”

“Your point?” She asked the question with a straight face, but crinkles at the corners of her pretty eyes told him she knew she was full of bologna.

“I stand corrected.” He also stood in awe. He’d never noticed decor one way or the other before. Don’t get him wrong—he appreciated a comfy sofa the same as the next guy, but whether that sofa was red, yellow or purple didn’t make a difference. This room, however—make that the entire inn—proved to him that Sadie wasn’t only a great cook and gardener but an interior designer, too. Was there anything the woman couldn’t do? “You must’ve meant that Mr. Williams’s ghost gave the room his endorsement.”

“Yes. That’s absolutely what I meant.” She made no effort to hide her grin, for which—as cute as it was—he was appreciative.

The suite had been done in a New Orleans French Quarter theme, with plenty of deep red velvet and a black wrought-iron bed. The combo sounded risqué, but Sadie had made it work, right down to the gold satin tassels on the drapes.

“Do you put a lot of couples in here?”