My Sister's Boyfriend (The Trouble With Twins 1) (2 page)

She gathered her courage and blurted out her identity. "By the way, I'm Jennifer. I’ll be sure to tell Julia you're back in town."

His mouth fell open and she knew she'd surprised him. But would he remember? Would he make the connection between their kiss tonight and the one they had shared so many years ago?

Why should he? He thought he’d been with Julia.

She moved toward the door, motioning for Paul and the rest of the crew to follow. Apparently, that night held no special memories for him.

Hurrying through the door, she turned her face toward the darkness, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Oh God, she still felt mortified when she remembered how she'd given him her virginity in the back seat of his father’s ’67 Mustang and then he’d called her Julia! Never again had she impersonated her sister.

#

Jennifer opened the door to her parents' brownstone home and hurried in. "Julia, are you here?"

Her sister stepped out of the kitchen with a Fudgesicle in her hand. "Hi! How did it go?"

Jennifer stared into a replica of her own oval face with blonde wisps of hair curling around high cheekbones. She watched her sister innocently lick the chocolate ice cream. At five feet six, a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, Julia could afford to eat a Fudgesicle.

"Well, let's see, I've never liked this act. I hate wearing this skimpy dress, and I hate getting into that awful coffin. But most of all I hate it when my sister doesn't tell me who the client is, and I discover it's someone we both know."

Julia stopped licking the melting ice cream bar and stared in surprise at her outburst. Her cornflower blue eyes widened. "What are you talking about? Who was the client?"

"Oh come on, you had to know. Does the name Brent Moulton sound familiar? The guy you once dated? The idiot who couldn't tell us apart if we were standing right next to one another?” She took a deep breath and watched Julia shrug her shoulders. "You really didn't know?"

"I didn't!” Julia exclaimed. "Jeff Nogle called and made the arrangements for tonight. He said to show up at the Hilton Hotel and gave me the room number."

Jennifer sagged with relief. She should have known better than to assume that her sister would knowingly set her up with the one man she had dreaded seeing again.

“Thank you. My first week back in town and I was afraid you’d set me up.”

Julia grinned. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I just appreciated your help tonight.”

Jennifer watched her sister resume licking her Fudgesicle, recognizing from her expression that Julia spoke the truth. "So why aren't you out at your gig tonight? How come I had to dress up like a dead freak in a Halloween Barbie costume and not you?"

Julia smiled and finished her Fudgesicle. "I went to a kid's birthday party where the children took great delight in playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Only I happened to be that donkey, and I have the pin pricks to prove it."

Jennifer laughed, the tension draining from her body, relieved that Julia had not intentionally set her up. She pulled out a kitchen chair and plopped down, the chiffon draping from her wrists. "How do you do this day after day?"

"Its fun, and I make fairly decent money. But sometimes I need help.” She threw the stick in the trash and turned to gaze at Jennifer.

"Well, tonight I retired.”

Julia ignored her comment. “Brent Moulton was there. What did he look like after all these years?"

"The same, like he'd just stepped off the cover of Pretty Boy magazine. A gorgeous hunk who needs LASIK apparently. But other than his eyesight, not a thing wrong with the man, even after almost fifteen years."

"He wears glasses now?"

"No," Jennifer groaned. "He still can't tell us apart.” Guilt overwhelmed her that she'd never told Julia what had really happened the night they switched places. It would be too humiliating to admit she'd let her passion go too far, and that after an hour of pleasure he'd called her by her sister’s name.

God, she'd been a foolish seventeen-year-old who knew nothing about life, even less about men, and was clueless when it came to sex.

"It's been years, Jenn. How could he?” Julia defended him. Then her brows wrinkled in thought. "Did he say if he was married?"

God, I hope not, Jennifer couldn't help but think. Married men were nothing but trouble. "He wasn't wearing a ring, but we didn't exactly catch up on the years since we graduated.”

"Well, that makes three eligible singles from our class at Tyler High School. The rest are all married," Julia said, her voice sounding wistful. "If only I could quiet the biological alarm clock telling me it's time to find Prince Charming. All I seem to find are toads."

Jennifer nodded in understanding. "I know. After I broke my engagement with Lightening Lancelot, my hit ’em and run fiancé, I've become resigned to remaining single."

"That was two years ago. You can't still feel that way."

"Why not? Especially after nights like tonight, when I see the worst of the male species. A room full of men tanked up on beer and lust ogling a woman jumping out of a coffin. Then after Brent kissed me, he called me Julia. Yes, I know it’s been years, but how would you feel if someone called you Jennifer after he put his tongue down your throat?"

Jennifer knew there was more to her irritated response to Brent's kisses, but she wasn't about to tell Julia everything.

"He kissed you?” Julia asked, raising her brows in question.

"Yeah. And let's just say my tonsils vibrated all the way to my toes until I realized he had no clue who he was lip-locked with."

Julia giggled. "Give the guy a break. We do look alike.”

"Only until you get to know us. So I guess what this means is that Brent Moulton never really knew either one of us well enough to see the differences."

Julia smiled. "Personally, I think Brent wanted only one thing from me when we had those few dates that summer. As captain of the football team, he wanted a quick lay with the head cheerleader. After all, there was that rumor that the football captain always got the head cheerleader at the end of a winning season."

"How immature," Jennifer said, her nerves jolting her out of the chair, unable to look her sister in the eye. Guilt at her adolescent promiscuity left her restless and unable to sit still a moment longer.

Julia laughed. "No, Texas high school football in small-town America. I'm just glad we sent him off to college disappointed."

Jennifer walked around the kitchen and opened the freezer. Oh, God, she wished that were true. She hid her face, needing a moment to let the color disappear from her cheekbones and one of those Fudgesicles to cool her off and give her comfort. So Brent had only wanted to boff the head cheerleader. Now almost fifteen years later, she felt worse than stupid.

"I just think all teenage boys are interested in laying the head cheerleader or any other available girl.” Jennifer tried to keep her voice lighthearted.

She reached in the freezer and took out one of the ice cream bars. Maybe she should eat the rest of the box? Six bars beckoned from the freezer, promising moments of culinary delight and soothing comfort. What could be better than chocolate ice cream?

Brent Moulton in the backseat of a ’67 Mustang!

If she weren't careful, Julia would notice her emotions and ask questions that Jennifer refused to answer.

"I think I'm going to turn in. Goodnight," she called.

“Okay, sleep well,” Julia said.

Jennifer all but ran past her sister, hurrying down the hall and escaping to her bedroom.

What had happened the night of her date with Brent was the one secret she'd never shared with Julia. And like a bad teenage movie, they both were back in town. But worse, he still kissed like the devil in blue jeans, and her hormones still reacted.

#

Leslie Davis, Brent's happily married sister, sat across from him, sipping coffee in the busy hospital cafeteria. Today was one of the few times she could slip away from her two children and escape for lunch with her brother.

"So a stripper actually jumped out of a coffin at your birthday party?” Leslie asked, laughing at Brent.

"No, not a stripper.” Brent's mind immediately pictured the sexy blonde. "A girl I used to know. A high school buddy of mine arranged a singing telegram for me at the birthday party they threw for me."

"Sounds like a frat party for grown-up men who should know better."

"Yeah, but without the sorority sisters.” He sighed. "Sometimes I miss college just because of all the fun I had mingling with the sorority sisters. They wanted to party, not cohabitate."

"Single women your age are more interested in hunting the elusive husband," Leslie said in mock seriousness.

Brent smiled at his sister, amazed that she looked so happy. Married to her college sweetheart, they had two small girls whom Brent absolutely adored and appeared a happy, normal family. At least for her sake, he hoped the dream of happily ever after was real.

"Since you've returned home, we'll have to try to fix you up with one of my unmarried friends. Any of them would be happy to be married to the chief of pediatrics."

Brent smiled and shook his head. "Thanks, but I have no intention of marrying. Bachelorhood is a viable choice."

"Look, Mr. Love-em-and-leave-em, you dated half of Kappa Alpha Theta and never once that I know of had a serious relationship. Don't you think it's about time you settled down? Had a couple of children of your own?"

Brent shrugged. "Yeah, well, with our family history we should be saying, ‘I don't.’" After watching his parents' multiple failed attempts, especially his father's infidelities, he refused to risk marriage. He raised his brows and gave a half-hearted smile, trying to humor his sister. "Besides, what woman in her right mind would want to be tied to a man who has enough student loans that he'll be paying them from the grave? I'm married to my job, and hopefully we'll have many happy years together."

Leslie threw up her hands in defeat. "I've watched you date everything from a scrub nurse to Miss Waxahachie. And the moment they mention the word commitment or ring, you move on to the next episode of
The Dating Game
."

"Why all the concern regarding my single status? You don't see me worrying about your life as a married mother of two," Brent said.

"Liar. You tried to talk me out of getting married, and thank God I didn't listen. Besides, there's nothing to worry about, because I'm happily married."

"That's good to hear. I'm happily single."

Leslie's forehead drew together in a frown. "Honestly, Brent, you can't let our parents keep you from finding happiness. It's time you considered looking for a Mrs. Moulton."

"Too many Mrs. Moulton's exist in the world already. Our Dad saw to that," he said bitterly, wishing Leslie would drop this painful subject.

"What's one more if she's the right one?” Leslie insisted. She leaned in closer. "You, my dear brother, have developed a pattern that keeps women at a distance."

Brent shook his head, not needing this lecture today. "How much are you charging me for this diagnosis, Doctor? Because I have to tell you, I'm not paying even if you are one semester away from your PhD in psychology."

"It's free of charge only because I'm worried about you."

"Leslie, remember it's not in our genes for relationships to work. Our mother's three marriages and father's five have proven you and I have never seen happily ever after, but we are very qualified to talk about
Divorce, American Style
."

"So our family sucked at interpersonal relationships. For a couple of kids who came from a broken family, we've done all right. I'm a very happily married woman in a committed relationship because I refuse to live like our parents.” Her green eyes darkened and she lifted her chin in a determined gesture. "I'd hate to see you remain single all your life, never marry and have children, just because our parents didn't know how to make a relationship last."

Brent ran a hand through his hair, tousling the lock on his forehead, wishing his persistent sister would drop this subject. "All I know is that our parents missed out on the happily-ever-after, until-death-do-us-part gene. I have those same genes. If I don't have children, then maybe I can keep marital disaster from spreading."

"Please! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard come out of a doctor's mouth.” Leslie frowned and thought a moment. "Well, okay, maybe not the silliest thing, but it's pretty close. We share the same genes. Look at me."

"Are you sure you're not adopted?" he said teasingly.

She gave him a wry grin. "Seriously, you and I both know that relationships depend on what kind of personality we're attracted to. Maybe to counter your so-called gene, you should look to date some women other than bimbos."

"They remind me of why I don't marry," Brent said as he twirled the empty Styrofoam cup in his hand. "Tell me, Dr. Davis, which personality type is going to hold my interest and keep me from walking out the door like our father?"

"That is a question that only you can answer. But rather than giving up on marriage, I'd be looking to make sure that I know who I am and what I expect in a mate."

"Don't you think one of the Kappa Alpha Theta's could have held my attention?" he said, knowing instinctively that he'd spent too much time studying to have had a serious relationship of any kind.

"Nope! Not at the time. You were focused on graduating and going to medical school," Leslie said. "The time wasn't right, but now…now you might reconsider and start by dating women who don't carry their brains in a size D cup."

Brent couldn't help but smile. His sister was right. He only dated women for whom he knew marriage was not an option, and he intended to keep it that way.

Hoping to steer the conversation in a new direction, he changed the subject. "Do you remember Julia and Jennifer Riley from high school?"

"Vaguely," she replied. "Why?"

"Julia owns a company called Musical Messages and Party Favors. Her sister Jennifer was the one who jumped out of the coffin at my birthday party."