The Love Twin

He forced himself to dive into the pool. She didn’t want to be with him, and that was it. Unable to deal with his disappointment, he forcefully swam across the water, trying to wipe out the denial in her eyes.

Confused and unsure of what had just happened, Becky rushed into the locker room. She fumbled with her combination lock, slipped off her leotard and hurried into the open shower. Her friend Sherry, who was also a hairstylist at the Nouveau Hair Salon in Beverly Hills, had finished working out on the weight machines and was drying off from her shower.

As Becky turned on the cool water, her naked body still sizzled from Jarrid Browning’s survival touch. She noticed that her bare nipples were protruding with arousal. Embarrassed, she quickly turned so Sherry wouldn’t notice.

“Becky, are you all right?” Sherry asked with concern.

“I—I’m fine, thanks, Sherry.” She admired Sherry and looked up to her. Sherry was in her late thirties, very happily married and had two kids who were in high school.

“Becky, I noticed you were in very sturdy hands at the pool,” Sherry commented.

Becky nervously rubbed faster as she shampooed her hair. “Jarrid Browning definitely knows his life-saving techniques.” She didn’t dare tell Sherry how sexually excited she felt with his hands so close to her breasts and his mouth covering hers.

“You can’t fool me, Becky,” Sherry said with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “I saw the steam rising between you and him. Maybe he’ll ask you out.”

Becky bit her bottom lip. “I don’t think so.”

Deep down, she knew the stark truth about herself. She wasn’t sexy enough for any man to want to be with forever. Her ex-boyfriend, Darryl, had made that crystal clear to her.

“I bet he asks for your phone number,” Sherry said, grabbing her soap, shampoo and towel to leave. “I saw the way he looked at you. When my husband looked at me when we first met, I knew I was going to marry him. Now I’ve had seventeen wonderful years with him to prove I was right.” Then she hurried to her locker.

Becky turned off the shower water. She knew Sherry was bull’s-eye about her attraction to Jarrid. From the moment she saw him, she knew she could instantly fall in love with him.

Yet, she knew that a raw, masculine guy like Jarrid could never be interested in a woman like her. Besides, she wasn’t even the Becky he thought she was!

In the parking lot outside the gym, Jarrid anxiously leaned against his silver van, still holding his gym bag. His insides were churning like the pool water had during his workout.

He knew he needed to get to work at the small home entertainment store he owned in Santa Monica, but instead, he glanced through the windowed pool area at the closed women’s locker-room door, waiting for Becky. She was still inside taking a shower, probably washing away any memory she ever had of him.

Jarrid kicked his work boot into a pothole, thinking about Becky—his old sweetheart—the girl he had wanted to marry.

He painfully remembered his last heart-wrenching night with her. It was the evening of Becky’s high school senior prom. Becky had looked like a princess in her turquoise gown. She was a bold, vivacious eighteen-year-old, while he was a naive, crazy-in-love, twenty-one-year-old audio and video technician.

Her prom night also marked their two-year anniversary of going steady. He had excitedly hidden a purple velvet box containing a round miniature-diamond engagement ring in his black tuxedo jacket. He couldn’t wait to surprise her.

In the back seat of the chauffeured, black limousine Jarrid had rented for the night, he got up the nerve to hand her the velvet box. He anxiously waited for the yes that would light up his life.

As Becky stared at the sparkling ring, her bottom lip had trembled. When she closed the box without putting the diamond on her finger, Jarrid had known her answer.

In a rush of words, Becky had told him that she was eager to start college and begin a baking-fresh new life. She yearned to be free to adventure with new souls.

Jarrid didn’t recall slipping the velvet box back into his tuxedo pocket, or even her prom. He knew why she’d turned him down.

He blamed himself. He was the one who’d pushed her into going steady. He was the one who’d wanted to see her every single weekend. He’d fooled himself into believing that she was in love with him as much as he was with her.

That night was the last time he saw Becky. Until seven years later—carrying her out of the gym pool in Los Angeles.

Jarrid’s heart suddenly quickened when the women’s locker room door opened. He held his breath as he waited for Becky to appear. Instead, a woman carrying a red gym bag hurried out.

What’re you doing to yourself, Browning? he mentally scolded. You got over Becky a long time ago.

And he did. When his heart had eventually healed, he told himself that he could live without a woman’s love. And whenever he had felt lonely, he reminded himself of how hurt he’d gotten when he let love rule his life.

He had moved to Los Angeles and taken a job as an electronics technician for a chain store. He had worked hard and finally saved enough money to start his own small home entertainment store selling carousel CD players, surround sound speakers, four-channel power amplifiers, laser disc players and digital satellite dishes.

However, Jarrid had bigger dreams. He wanted to custom design and install home theater systems and corporate video and audio systems. Then he could someday open a much larger home entertainment store showcasing his designs and hire more employees. To do that, he first needed to attract customers who could afford to contract him to design custom systems. And so far, he hadn’t even come close to his goal.

Yet, no matter how hard Jarrid worked at expanding his business, he still secretly yearned to find the woman of his heart. And now Becky had reappeared.

Just moments ago, when he tore down Becky’s high-top leotard neckline to help her breath, his eyes caught the swell of her breasts above her exercise bra. He felt the impulse to cup her firm mounds in his hands.

And when his mouth covered hers to blow air into her lungs, why did he allow himself to taste the honey sweetness of her?

Jarrid knew why. He’d momentarily fantasized that Becky had changed. That she would want to be with him forever the way he’d wanted her seven years ago.

Jarrid yanked open his van door and hurled his gym bag into the front seat. Who’re you kidding? Wasn’t it obvious that Becky was trying to brush you off?

Come on—she never lived in New York? She had an identical twin sister? Face it, Browning. Becky still doesn’t want to become a serious part of your life and never will.

Just then, Jarrid saw the door swing open again. His heart pumped faster as Becky stepped out and walked toward the parking lot.

She was wearing a calf-length flowered skirt and loose white blouse. She had a touch of powder pink lipstick on her rosebud lips, and her strawberry blond hair bounced as she walked.

As she passed him, he smelled sweet roses and felt the impulse to reach out and stop her. He yearned to know who she was now. As he watched her, he saw her face flush from his blatant stare. Then she quickly got into her car and drove off.

Jarrid realized that maybe he didn’t know Becky after all. He remembered how sensually she had dressed in high school with form-fitting skirts and hugging sweater tops. He had never once seen her wearing a flowing skirt and button-down blouse.

A ray of hope filled his heart. Maybe he should pursue her, get to know her on a new level.

Jarrid squeezed the chrome door handle of his van, wondering if he could open his heart to her again, knowing she again might shatter it to pieces.

He climbed into his van and drove to his store, needing to bury himself in his business, needing to forget that the sight of Becky made him want her all over again.

Becky zipped along palm-tree-lined Venice Boulevard in her red VW Rabbit heading towards Charlotte’s office to find out the details of that advertising job for Pam. She had a couple of hours before she had to be at the hair salon for her first appointment.

However, she could barely think about work or her sister’s new job. Jarrid Browning filled her every thought.

Becky desperately needed to talk to her twin. She had to find out who Jarrid was to her. Instead of going straight to Charlotte’s, she made a U-turn and headed toward her Mar Vista apartment.

In her living room, Becky first dialed Charlotte’s office to tell her that she would be a few minutes late. When she got Charlotte on the line, the executive had said she’d call her right back.

Becky hoped that Charlotte didn’t think she was being flaky by not going straight to her office and prayed she hadn’t ruined Pam’s chances of getting that new job.

Becky then anxiously called her sister’s office in New York where she was an account executive at an advertising agency.

“Pam Lawson’s office,” the secretary said over the phone.

As always, Becky was thrilled when Pam’s personal secretary answered her call. She was so proud of her twin’s career success. Her secretary asked if Becky could wait a few moments for Pam to get off the other line.