His By Christmas

“I guess. The thing is, that’s just a fact. It doesn’t convey any of the reality of growing up in Sam Hart’s shadow. We were born nine months apart.”

“Twins the hard way,” she interjected.

“That’s what my mom always says. Anyway, I had the distinction of trying to keep up with him, pretty much right out of the womb. I wanted to do everything he did, including getting my parents’ attention.”

“This is where you own up to acting out.”

He shook his head. “I did my best to be bigger, faster, stronger.”

“Going for bionic?” Her mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a laugh.

“No, only first.”

“Ah.” She nodded her understanding. “And that could never be.”

“I could never be firstborn, but in every other way I needed to win. School. Sports. Girls. We competed for the same ones.”

A shrink would have a field day with the fact that he married a woman who had loved another man first. That man happened to be his brother Sam. Cal shouldn’t have been so surprised and hurt when it didn’t work out, but they said love was blind.

“So, your whole life has been like the second-place car rental company that has to try harder?”

“Yes. We run different companies under the Hart Industries umbrella, and I want him to be successful. I just want my bottom line to be better than his.”

“That’s why you work so hard.”

“Exactly.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “But that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t go home after breaking your leg. In fact, it just makes me more curious.”

“I was getting to that part.” As slowly as possible. He was dreading the expression of disappointment that he knew she would wear. The why of that was a mystery he didn’t have time right now to think about. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, then set the cup back on the saucer. “It happened at Sam’s wedding.”

“It?”

“Apparently my family was concerned about the fact that I hadn’t taken a vacation in a while.”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

“Four years.”

“Wow. Long time.” Her eyes widened.

“Then Sam made a crack about my social life.”

“He thinks you’re burning the candle at both ends?” she guessed. “He doesn’t like your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have one. And he—”

“Said something about you not having sex, which got your macho all in a twist. Am I right?” she asked.

“Not about the macho part, but the rest is pretty accurate. How did you know?” And why did she say it straight out without any awkwardness? Maybe because the lights were still out and clouds filled the sky. There was no way he could see whether or not she was blushing. It was one step shy of making love in the dark.

“I know because I have brothers. Two.” She shrugged.

“Okay.” He let out a breath. “His comment touched a nerve and then there’s the classic car—”

“Just a hot minute. If this is you digressing to distract me, you should be warned that it won’t work.”

“That never crossed my mind.” Because he’d already tried that and found out she was too smart to be sidetracked by his charming repartee. “It’s important.”

“Okay, then. Carry on.”

“Our grandfather left Sam his classic Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, even though I always told him I wanted it. He said it was about Sam being the oldest.” Cal sighed. “I really love that car. But apparently Granddad told Sam that I worked too much to care for the Duchess the way she needed to be cared for. To make a long story short—”

“Too late for that,” she teased.

He laughed. “Sam bet me that I couldn’t stay on this island for a month.”

“By ‘stay’ I assume he meant vacation?”

“That’s not what he said,” Cal stressed. “There was no stipulation about not working.”

“But it was implied. That’s the very definition of vacation,” she insisted. “And yet you brought me here to help you work.”

“I can’t deny that.”

There was the dreaded judgment in her eyes and it was definitely going against him. “That violates the very spirit of the wager. You’re supposed to be here taking a break. Resting and relaxing.”

Very little of either was going on, Cal thought. And it had only gotten worse since Justine showed up. “I honestly had planned to do that. I had a schedule of activities every day. A spreadsheet—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I had something on the calendar for every day. Parasailing, hang gliding, wave riding, rock climbing—”

Her mouth opened, hinting that she was appalled. “Those aren’t gentle, peaceful or restful. They’re life-threatening.”

“I prefer to think of them as aggressive leisure interests.” She was really putting him on the defensive. “The point is that I broke my leg on the first day and had to cancel everything. And I couldn’t leave the island and lose the bet. Sitting around and doing nothing would have pushed me over the edge.” He shrugged. “I figured that I might as well work.”

“Wow. You would rather work when there’s a beautiful, exciting island just outside the door to this luxury villa and it’s yours to explore?”

“Not when you’re on crutches,” he retorted. “Believe me, I checked. No wave riding or parasailing when you’ve got a cast on your leg.”

“You’ve never heard of plan B?”

“Of course I have. But, like I said, I’m complicated. And nothing fun is cast-friendly.”

There was a gleam in her eyes when she said, “I bet there’s a lot of fun things you can do with that plaster on your leg.”

“I challenge you to come up with a list of activities for a guy in my situation. Until then, don’t judge.”