The Love Twin

Steam from the Jacuzzi swirled between them. He held out his hand, and she hesitantly slipped her fingers through his. He guided her into the white foam. She sat down across from him, looking a bit unsure. He wanted to draw her into his arms, but he held back.

His gaze locked on her shimmering eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips powder pink.

“You look beautiful, Becky, more beautiful than I remember.” The words rushed out before he could control himself. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

Her face reddened. “Me, too, about you.”

“You have?” he asked, wanting very badly to believe he still had a chance with her.

“Oh, yes,” she responded.

Her rosebud lips parted a little. Her sweetness, her vulnerability, all of it made him ache to kiss her.

“What have you been thinking?” he asked.

“How excited I am at seeing you again,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Not as excited as I feel.”

“Wanna bet?” she added in a teasing tone.

His gaze traveled down her swimsuit. Her nipples protruded through the wet material as though she was naked in front of him.

He swallowed, wanting to touch her, caress her. He could feel his maleness responding under the swirling water.

Slow down, Browning, slow down! he told himself.

But he didn’t listen. Being near her brought out a longing within him that was more powerful than he’d ever felt for her. He impulsively leaned closer to her and gently touched her warm cheek with his palm.

“It’s crazy, Becky, but I almost feel like we’re meeting for the very first time.”

“We are,” she replied and then quickly added, “I mean, in seven years, we’ve both changed a lot.”

“You definitely have.” He traced her full lips with his thumb. “You’re an incredible woman now.”

Then he trailed his finger down her neck to the soft cleavage of her breasts, across the swollen hills, with his eyes steady on hers. He felt her tremble under his touch, as if he’d never caressed her before.

As his mouth closed over hers, he heard a voice call out, “Mr. Browning, you have a phone call.”

He turned and saw the housekeeper standing at the sliding glass door. “Okay, thanks,” he responded. “I’ll be right there.”

When he turned back to Becky, she was already out of the Jacuzzi with a towel wrapped around her body.

“Jarrid, I need to get back to the salon,” she said, her voice quivering a little.

“Will I see you later at my store?”

“I—I was wondering if we could do it another day,” she hesitantly asked. “I’m running late, and I might have to squeeze a couple of appointments in tonight.”

Disappointment filled him. “Sure, I understand. We’ll do it later.” But deep down, he felt her drawing away from him.

As she hurried back to the main building, Jarrid felt the impulse to call her back. He needed to tell her that he hadn’t meant to move so quickly. He didn’t mean to put any pressure on her. All he’d wanted was to get close to her.

Becky raced into Mrs. Fuller’s bathroom. Her skin was still flaming from Jarrid’s touch. She didn’t dare go to his store now. She’d gotten so turned on by him that she would’ve blended into his kiss with no holding back if the housekeeper hadn’t shown up.

Under the cool shower, Becky could still feel Jarrid’s warm finger caressing the tops of her breasts and his mouth touching hers. She ached to feel his strong hands cupping her breasts, pressing his palms against her nipples.

She abruptly turned off the shower water. What am I thinking? I’m with Jarrid for Pam, not myself!

Jarrid didn’t say she was beautiful. He wasn’t touching her lips. He wasn’t about to kiss her. In his mind, he was with Pam.

As Becky frantically dried herself, she glanced at her watch. Her appointment with Charlotte! She’d totally forgotten about the meeting about her sister’s job. She was so caught up in Jarrid that nothing existed for her except him.

How could she have put her own attraction to Jarrid ahead of getting her sister that L.A. job?

Becky yanked on her clothes feeling upset with herself. As she hurried out of the house, she glanced down the driveway looking for Jarrid’s van, but it was gone. She should’ve felt relieved, but instead, she missed seeing him.

Her head started to ache as she quickly got into her car. She prayed that Charlotte would tell her Pam’s job would be available sooner than she thought. She had to get her sister moved to Los Angeles right away. Because she couldn’t be in Jarrid’s presence without thinking about her own need for him!

Jarrid made a pit stop at his West Los Angeles apartment for a quick bite to eat before responding to the phone call he had received at Mrs. Fuller’s house from Pete. Pete told him that he had heard from a friend that Lyle Industries in Santa Monica wanted remote video monitors installed in each of their ten executive offices for video-conferencing purposes.

Jarrid wanted to go over to Lyle Industries in person and convince Mr. Lyle that he was the man to design their video system.

He grabbed a cold piece of leftover chicken from the refrigerator. He tried to concentrate on what he would say to Mr. Lyle, but his mind was whirling with conflicts about Becky.

In the Jacuzzi, Becky was so open to him. Her eyes held a warm caring that momentarily melted away the long-ago memories of her refusing to marry him. She looked at him like he was a new man to her, like she was getting to know him all over again.

Yet she’d acted so cool to him afterward. She wouldn’t even go to his store like they’d planned.

Jarrid hurled the bare chicken bone into the trash can. Move on with your life, he silently told himself.

In a few days he would be meeting Marie’s friend. She could be the woman who would accept him completely. The woman who would want to share her heart and soul with him.

Yet why did the idea of dating a woman other than Becky feel so wrong to him? If Becky wasn’t going to get seriously involved with him again, why didn’t he feel enthusiastic about Saturday night at Kenny’s?

Jarrid grabbed his van keys so he wouldn’t delay getting to Lyle Industries to discuss his video conferencing ideas.

Just as he opened the door to leave, he found a delivery man dressed in brown shorts and brown shirt standing there ready to ring his doorbell. He was holding a special delivery letter and a clipboard for his signature.

Jarrid quickly signed the receipt form and hurried to his van with the letter in his hand.

At a red light, he glanced at the envelope to see who it was from. There was no return address. He drove into the subterranean parking structure of the office building in Santa Monica, turning into the first empty parking spot he saw.

Jarrid couldn’t stop himself from taking a few short moments to open the envelope. He immediately spotted the typewritten name at the bottom of the letter. It was from Becky.

His heart hammered against his ribs. He wondered if she was going to tell him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. He focused on the typed words.

Dear Jarrid: