Her Cowboy Till Christmas. Jill Kemerer
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not have a twin. Ma and Pops would have known about a sibling. They would have told him.
“I’m an only child.” Mason clenched his jaw.
“So am I.” Ryder’s brown eyes, the same caramel shade as his own, had nothing to hide. “At least, I thought I was until I met Brittany.”
“Come on,” Brittany said, gesturing to them both. “This will be easier to figure out sitting down.”
He wanted to escort her pretty five-foot-two-inch frame outside, slam the door shut and enjoy the satisfaction of hurting her the way she’d hurt him, but Ryder being here complicated things. Mason let out a humph, then jerked his chin for Ryder to enter. Hurt and irritation flashed in the man’s eyes, but he moved with an easy, familiar gait into the house.
It was like watching a video of himself.
Brittany made herself right at home at the kitchen table, and Mason resented it more than he thought possible. Sure, she’d been here countless times when she’d spent summers down the road with her grandmother Nan. But this was his table.
Mia’s table.
Brittany didn’t belong here.
As Ryder folded his sculpted frame onto the chair across from her, Mason sat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone had better start talking.”
Ryder and Brittany exchanged glances.
“Two weeks ago, I was at my favorite coffee shop.” She gestured with her hands as she talked, and those blue eyes ebbed and flowed with expressiveness. “I was mentally choreographing a solo for Kelly Jo, one of my best teen dancers—you really have to see this girl move, she’s amazing—and I grabbed my coffee and turned to leave. Well, Ryder was right behind me.” She blinked and shrugged. “I freaked out a little and, what do you know, I splashed coffee onto my white sweatshirt. As I was dabbing at it, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I... I thought it was you.”
Brittany hadn’t changed. She always took the scenic route when telling a story. Her voice had wavered at the end. The thought of running into him had obviously bothered her.
Good. It should.
Ryder cleared his throat. “She started asking me why I was in town and how I was, and she threw out names I’d never heard before. My confusion must have been obvious.”
“You had the deer-in-headlights look, but that was to be expected.” A tender smile lifted her lips, and Mason straightened. Were these two a couple? “I was a mess. Of all the times to be such a klutz... My words kept tripping over each other, and I don’t know what I was doing rubbing the stains on my shirt.”
“She kept saying ‘Mason,’ and it hit me she thought I was someone else.” Ryder’s shoulders and eyebrows rose in sync. His movements were so like his own, it made the hair on Mason’s arms rise. “I told her she had the wrong guy. And I introduced myself.”
“As soon as the last name came out of his mouth, I put it together.” She shook her head slightly. “I could barely take it in. Still can’t take it in, and it’s not even happening to me. Mason, Ryder is your identical twin. All this time and you never even knew each other existed. I remember how much you wanted a brother. Now you have one!”
And there it was—the empathy that had always, always drawn him to her. He ground his teeth together. Once upon a time, he thought she knew him in a way no one else did. That she saw through to his essence and, more, that she liked what was there.
She’d been his first love, and the experience had hardened him. Her lies had helped him see what he really wanted in a woman, and he’d found a beautiful, honest, loyal best friend in Mia.
Mia was gone, and Brittany was here. Fury pulsed, hot and surging, but he forced himself to stay calm. Why was he so mad at Brittany, anyway? It had been ten years. They’d been teenagers. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t moved on with his life. He had.
And he’d lost. Again.
Always losing.
“Why’d you come?” He didn’t miss the wariness that flashed in her eyes. “To flaunt your new boyfriend?” He regretted the words instantly. Couldn’t take them back. Didn’t know if he would have, anyway.
“You think we’re...” Ryder pointed to Brittany and back to himself. “Sorry if we gave you that impression. We aren’t... It’s not... Well, I recently went through a difficult divorce, and I have three-year-old twin daughters to raise. I don’t see myself dating anytime soon. Maybe ever.”
Why relief sank into his limbs, he wouldn’t examine. Another thing they had in common. Mason didn’t see himself ever dating again, either. He’d had the love of his life. You only got that once.
He studied Ryder more closely. The resemblance was too much to take, kind of like staring into the sun. If this man was his twin—and there seemed to be no other reasonable explanation—his childhood had been built on a lie.
“Mason, I realize this is hard to accept, but I hope you’ll get used to the idea. I mean, you have a brother. How cool is that?” Brittany’s soft tone irritated him. As did the way she was trying to soothe him.
“You have no right to come in here and act like old times.”
“Old times? I’m not... Aren’t you the teensiest bit happy you have a brother?” Her face paled as she shook her head in disgust. “What happened to you?”
He closed his eyes briefly. What had happened to him?
The woman he’d cherished—the mother of his precious son—had died of cancer. That’s what had happened.
And three years later, he still hadn’t figured out how to move on.
“I can see this was a huge mistake.” The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as Brittany rose to stand. Mason acted like she’d happily skipped up here in some warped attempt to see him suffer. The last place she wanted to be was Rendezvous. Santa Ana was her home. She had people—mostly dance students—who genuinely liked her, who didn’t look at her like she was a scab they’d picked off an old wound. “I’m sorry for putting you through this, Ryder.”
She glanced at Mason to catch his reaction. The vein in his forehead throbbed.
Good.
She’d tried to call him. Emailed him again and again.
“Don’t be. I asked you to come.” The planes of Ryder’s face were as sharp as his voice. He turned to Mason. “I figured she’d provide a buffer, introduce us. Maybe this was a mistake. I’ve always wanted a brother, but...”
Brittany could have filled in the rest. Not if the brother is you, you big jerk.
Since Ryder made no movement to leave, she stood behind her chair. The kitchen had changed since she’d last been here. She’d been eighteen then, and Mason’s grandparents had still been alive. Since then, the oak cabinets had been painted white, new countertops gleamed and hardwood floors had replaced the cracked linoleum. The farmhouse charm was still there. Too bad it was the only charm left—Mason certainly had none.
The brothers were engaged in a charged stare-off. The tension made her rise on her tiptoes as they really studied each other for the first time. A look of wonder accompanied Mason’s quick intake of breath. Finally. She slipped back into her seat. They’d been here for ten minutes, and it had taken Mason all ten to acknowledge reality.
“When is your birthday?” he asked Ryder.
“February 1.” He leaned back, wariness in his eyes. “I was born in Colorado Springs. Raised in Billings, Montana.”
Mason looked green.
Brittany