The Other Twin
He’d known it would be.
She shook the blueprint. Using her thumb, she pointed to a number. “Is that the measurement from one wall to another?”
“Yes.” He choked out the word, hoping he’d answered correctly. Sometimes, as much as he concentrated, everything came out twisted.
“Let’s see where you went wrong.” She set down the plans. “Can you hold the other end of the tape measure?”
He headed to the wall to be a friggin’ anchor.
“This one’s right.” She tapped the first piece of tape he’d placed.
They slid along the wall.
“This one needs to be here.” She moved the orange tape. And kept checking and rechecking each measurement. He’d gotten half of them right. What had taken him thirty minutes took her five.
“That looks right, doesn’t it?” She held the blueprint and compared it with the tape they’d run and anchored.
He stood behind her, inhaling another whiff of apples. “Yeah.”
He could see the space now. There were the doors into the kitchen and more doors into Abby’s large storage area.
Cheryl helped him mark off the walk-in freezer, too.
“Now I can finish running the tape for the footings.” Relief eased out of him like a curl of wood from a plane. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She dusted off her hands. “Anything else you want to get done tonight?”
“I’ll mark the wall and doors.” That way, if the crew moved the tape when they did demolition, he’d know where everything was supposed to go. He’d developed tricks over the years to convince people that he was in control.
“Then I’ll head home.”
“Thank you.” Too bad Cheryl had a kid. Otherwise he would ask her out.
She moved to the door, stopped and turned back. “Do you...have trouble reading?”
Reality slapped him in the face. “I can read,” he growled. Sometimes.
“I could help.” She gave him a small smile. “At the army school, I worked with kids who had trouble reading.”
His face heated with shame. Kids. She’d helped kids. “I don’t need help.”
She jerked back a step at the snap in his voice. The woman was scared of her shadow. “It’s just...”
“Thanks for the help.” He pulled the flask out of his pocket. He wouldn’t admit his flaws.
Her face paled and she crept backward again. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t drink in front of my son.”
“I’ll bet you would.” He took a big swig. Not wanting her to see she’d hurt him.
She dashed outside. Her footsteps pounded the stairs to the carriage house apartment.
He twirled the cap back on. He’d been a jerk. But he didn’t need any help from a do-gooder like Cheryl Henshaw. His flaws couldn’t be fixed.
* * *
THUMP!
Cheryl jolted out of a deep sleep.
Josh? Had he fallen out of bed?
She raced into his bedroom. When she didn’t find him on the floor, she scrambled up the ladder. He was still asleep, his hand tucked under his pillow.
She rubbed her forehead as she headed back to bed. Maybe she’d been dreaming.
Her alarm clock flipped to six thirty. Her first morning to sleep in for five days and she was already awake?
Thump!
The noise came from the second floor.
It had been a week since she’d helped Nathan measure. Since then, the work crews always arrived at seven thirty and they only worked on the first floor. This noise was next door. A chill raced over her skin.
Cheryl threw on yesterday’s shorts, tucked in the T-shirt she’d worn to bed and grabbed her phone. Slipping her feet into her Keds, she hurried to the kitchen.
The carriage house apartment had two doors. The main door led to the outside steps and down to the Fitzgerald House courtyard. The kitchen door opened into the interior of the carriage house’s second floor.
Holding her breath, she put her ear to the kitchen door.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She dug out the dead bolt key from the kitchen drawer and paused in front of the door. The key jangled in her shaking hand. Who was back there? Thieves? A homeless person?
Forcing herself to breathe, she shoved the key into the lock. For Josh and the Fitzgeralds she had to be brave. The Fitzgeralds had done so much for her—saved her. It was her turn to stand up for them.
Before turning the key, she punched in 9-1-1 on her cell phone, but didn’t hit Dial.
Inhaling, she unlocked the door and twisted the knob. Nothing.
She pulled and tugged, then put her foot on the door frame and yanked. The door gave way with a soft whoomp. She stumbled, clutching the knob to stay upright.
In the dark hall, she waited for her eyes to adjust and her heart to stop pounding.
A screech of wood on wood came from around the corner. So did a sliver of light.
Cheryl tiptoed silently toward the light. Her childhood had taught her well. She touched the scar next to her ear. Mama had been a mean drunk.
Before she rounded the corner, she heard a deep voice swear. Her phone clattered to the floor. As much as she wanted to escape to the apartment and throw the bolt, she didn’t. She snatched up her phone and held her thumb over the dial button.
“Who’s here?” she called.
Silence.
She turned the corner. The door was ajar, weak light leaking out. “I’ve called the police.”
“Now, why would you do that?” A man moved into the hallway, blocking the light.
All she could see was big. Big man. Big shoulders. Big hands fisted on his hips.
“Get out before they arrive,” she whispered through chattering teeth.
“Cheryl.” The man moved closer.
The man knew her name. He rushed toward her.
She turned to run, pressing the dial button on her phone.
“Wait,” he said.
She knew that voice. “Nathan?”
“Did you really call the cops?” he asked.
She looked at her phone. The call had already connected.
She pulled it to her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...”
Nathan’s hands slapped against his thighs.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a woman asked.
“I...I don’t have one. I dialed accidently.” She forced the words out.
“Are you sure?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
There was silence on the line. Then the operator asked, “Do you need help?”
“I heard a noise, but it’s nothing.” At least she hoped it was nothing. What was Nathan doing here?
After the woman checked one more time, she hung up. What if they sent a patrol car anyway? The Fitzgeralds might decide she wasn’t worth all the trouble she always caused. She shivered. Only last year, Gray and Abby had saved her and Josh from her brother-in-law, Levi.
“You didn’t convince me nothing was wrong. And I know everything’s all right.” Nathan smacked the wall. “I’ll be lucky if I’m not in jail within the hour.”
She jumped. “Why are you here? You worked until almost nine.”
And not just last night, but for the entire week since she’d helped him measure. Not that she was checking on him. While tucking Josh in bed, she’d glanced out the window and Nathan’s truck had still been in the lot.
“I’m... I just...” Nathan shrugged. “I want to live here while working on this project.”
“Here?” she squeaked. No way.
“Yeah. In the carriage house.”
She hated the idea of Nathan living next door. Even in the dim light she caught his blush. “Why?”
“You saw how slow I am.” He paced into the room and then back. “This is the first major project I’ve handled for the company.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Story of my life.” His fingers rattled against his jeans. “If I’m living here, I can work more hours.”
“But no one’s lived here in years,” she said.
He waved her over. “What do you think?”
She nodded, wanting him to walk in front of her. No way was she letting him get between her and the door.
He rolled his eyes and held up his hands like he was harmless.
He wasn’t harmless, but she followed.
A trouble light hung off a fixture, the orange cord dissecting the room. The apartment was a mirror image of hers. The kitchens backed up to each other and the closed door was probably one of the two bedrooms. Sitting in the middle of the living room was a canopy bed that used to be in her apartment.
“What was the thumping?” she asked.
“I moved the bed to access the water valve.” He indicated an open panel in the living room wall.
“That’s a strange place to put water valves.”
“It’s probably here because the carriage house didn’t have running water when it was built.” He crouched next to a wrench.
A wrench could do a lot of damage. Cheryl made herself smaller, less of target. And hated her actions. Her hands formed ineffective fists. All the good years with Brad and she was back to her childhood. Because of Levi.
“You’re shivering.” Nathan’s gaze dropped to the thin T-shirt she’d slept in. His nostrils flared. “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine.” But the heat in his eyes made her shake harder. She wished she’d thrown on a bra.
“I think this apartment will work for me.” His gaze snapped back to her face. “I’ll talk to Abby.”
“Sure.” She backed out of the room. “I’d better check on Josh.”
She dragged her kitchen door closed, turned the lock and sank to the floor. Her nipples had pebbled from Nathan’s hot look. Only Brad had made her feel like she was desirable.
She didn’t want to feel that way about Nathan. He was trouble. With his swearing and drinking, he’d be a terrible role model for Josh.
She couldn’t let him live next door.
CHAPTER TWO
THIS COULD WORK. Nathan shut off the water and unplugged the trouble light.
He moved into the hallway just as Cheryl’s lock clicked.
She’d been shaking earlier. Fear? He’d heard some of what had happened last year. Her brother-in-law had been stealing her military survivor checks. Instead of stopping him, she’d run away but the asshole had found her at Fitzgerald House. Gray and Abby had protected Cheryl and her kid. He couldn’t imagine such a frightened woman standing up for herself.
But she’d checked on the noises he’d been making. Shoot, this morning she’d actually called the police. That was something.
Once Jed, his site supervisor, showed up, they mapped out the day’s tasks. Then he headed over to the B and B to catch Abby. He might even snag breakfast. Food was a perk of working at Fitzgerald House. Usually Pop or Daniel reaped those benefits.
The Fitzgerald sisters, Abby, Bess and Dolley, were like his sisters. The Foresters and the Fitzgeralds even spent holidays together, so he wanted to make sure Abby’s restaurant was perfect.
Cheryl also spent holidays with the Fitzgeralds, but he couldn’t think of her like a sister. This morning her T-shirt had been worn and nearly transparent. Her nipples had tightened as he’d stared.
He shifted, his jeans growing snug. He had to keep remembering—she had a kid.
But Cheryl’s body rocked.
He peeked in through the kitchen window and spotted Cheryl’s kid sitting on a small sofa, drawing.
The door was open; the scent of sugar and spices had his mouth watering. He grabbed the door handle.
“Did you ever hear noises in the carriage house?” Cheryl asked Abby.
Noises? He paused. Nathan should let them know he was listening, but he didn’t. What was Cheryl up to?
“Lots of creaking,” Abby replied. “Why? Has great-aunt Persephone been trying to scare you?”
Persephone was the mansion’s ghost. Pop had worked on Fitzgerald House for years. When Nathan and Daniel were small, they would come to work with him and try to find the ghost who haunted the old mansion.
“I hope not,” Cheryl replied. “Does she visit the carriage house?”
“No.” Abby laughed. “Are you worried?”
“I...” There was a pause. “The drunk getting into the River Street apartment shook me more than I thought.”
“Gray and I are right next door,” Abby said.
“I guess...it’s nice knowing there’s only Josh and me in the building.” Cheryl’s words gushed out.
What the hell? She was sabotaging his request before he’d even made it. No way! He pushed through the door.
The screen slapped shut and Abby turned. “Hey, Nathan.”
He moved to the counter, narrowing his eyes at Cheryl.
Cheryl’s mouth formed a little O. She slid away from him. “Josh, breakfast.”
The kid tucked his stuff into his backpack and headed to the table, snaking a wide path around Nathan.
“What’s up?” Abby asked him.
“I wanted to ask you something.” He raised his eyebrows at Cheryl.
“Sure.” Abby pulled a pan from the oven. “Can I get you breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” He leaned against the wall as she cut into the egg casserole. “Smells great in here.”
After dishing him a generous helping, Abby sliced the rest into squares.
Cheryl took the pan and put it on a cart along with other dishes and baskets of muffins. As she backed out the door, she shot Nathan a guilty look. “Josh, eat up. The bus will be here soon.”
Nathan took a bite of the egg dish and moaned. It was a Mexican fiesta in his mouth. “How come Gray isn’t fifty pounds overweight?”
Abby laughed and handed him a cup of coffee. “I won’t let him.”
He took a sip. Time to get down to business before Cheryl returned. Staying on-site was the perfect way for him to work long hours without anyone knowing. “I checked out the other carriage house apartment.”
Abby’s glance shot to Josh as he plowed through his breakfast. “Did Cheryl hear you this morning?”
“Maybe.” Yes. “I want your restaurant to shine. I’d like to be on-site, keeping everything on track. What do you think about me renting the apartment?” The words tumbled out of his mouth. He didn’t even worry that they might not be the right words or in proper order. “I’d be on top of everything.”
That might be a first.
“No one’s stayed there in years.”
“I checked the water. It works.” A little rusty, but that was from lack of use. “I could patch and paint the place for you.”
“You want to live and work on-site?” She picked up a wicked knife and cut melon slices. “In a place that’s been empty for a decade?”
“You live next door in the Carleton carriage house.” He nodded to Josh. “Now Cheryl’s in the Fitzgerald carriage house.”
Josh looked up at the mention of his mother’s name, daggers in his eyes. Or maybe they were lasers. Who knew what weapons kids used nowadays?
“I like the idea.” Abby hacked off the top of a pineapple. “I’ll talk to Dolley and have her work on a lease. Maybe with you next door, Cheryl won’t worry.”
Nathan doubted that. Maybe he should have talked directly to Dolley. She was the sister in charge of contracts. But Cheryl might have sabotaged his request if he’d waited.
A timer dinged. Abby patted his back and moved to the ovens. “Can I interest you in a muffin?”
“Sure.” He checked his watch. “I’ll take it with me.”
Cheryl hustled back into the kitchen. “Almost done?” she asked her son.
“Yup.” Josh scooted off the chair and took his dishes to the dishwasher without anyone reminding him. “Thank you, Miss Abby.”
Abby ruffled his hair. “You’re welcome.”
Cheryl handed him his backpack. As they headed out of the kitchen, Nathan followed. “Got a minute?”
Her back stiffened. “Josh needs to catch his bus.”
“One minute.” He wanted to see her reaction when she heard the news.
“Josh, wait on the porch. I’ll be right there.”
The kid stepped between Nathan and Cheryl. “It’s my first day of summer camp. I don’t want to miss my bus ’cause it’s only for two weeks.”
“You won’t.” Cheryl guided Josh down the hall. Then she turned and crossed her arms. “What can I do for you?”
He almost smiled at her belligerent tone. “I wanted you to be the first to know. I’m your new neighbor.”
Her face went pale. “I...I...”
“You’d hoped your conversation with Abby would keep me from moving in?” He pointed a finger at her. “She thinks you’ll feel more secure with me living there.”
“It wasn’t that.” Her gaze swung away from him. She was lying.
“Nice.” He shook his head. “Guess I won’t be expecting a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ from you. I don’t know what I did to rile you up and I don’t care. I’ll stay out of your way. You and the kid stay out of mine.”
* * *
“THE BUTTHEAD’S MOVING IN,” Josh said under his breath, climbing into his chair.
Cheryl’s eyes went wide. “What did you say?”
Josh looked at her through thick blond eyelashes. “Nothin’.”
“Don’t you use that kind of language. Ever.” She slid a grilled-cheese sandwich on his plate and added celery and carrot sticks. It wasn’t the most creative meal, but now that it was June, the temperatures had skyrocketed.
“I can’t help what he is.” Josh squirted ketchup on his plate.
“Are you looking to lose television privileges?” Again.
What had happened to her compliant boy? She didn’t want him to be afraid anymore, but she didn’t want disrespect, either. Rubbing her temples didn’t stop the headache brewing.
“How was camp?” she asked.
He shrugged.
This wasn’t normal. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.” He swirled a carrot stick in his ketchup.
Yuck. She cut his grilled cheese into four triangles. “Something’s bothering you.”
He slammed his hand on the table. “Zach’s my friend. But he and Dustin ran off together. I didn’t have nobody help me find bugs.”
“Anybody.” She sighed. “Did you ask them both to work with you?”
He shrugged. “Zach didn’t keep his word. He’s a bu—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. At least she knew why he was in a bad mood.
“Zach and Dustin get to play together after camp ’cause they live next to each other. Why can’t we live in a house?” He smashed his sandwich into the ketchup. “Why do I have to live here? I never play with nobody. I want a dog.”
She took a deep breath, trying for calm. They’d had this conversation. “You can invite a friend over on my next day off.”
“You never get days off. Other guys have moms and dads. They do stuff all the time.” He jabbed his carrot into his sandwich. “I’m stuck here.”
“That’s not true.” Her teeth ground together. “I’m off Monday. You can have a friend come over Sunday night and we’ll do something fun.” Something that didn’t cost money.
“I can?” Josh looked her in the eye.
“Yes.” Was she bribing her son into a good mood?
“I’ll call Zach after dinner.”
The rest of the meal was normal. At least, Josh was happier.
After they cleaned the dishes, Josh took her cell phone into the living room.
She pulled out a basket and added fruit, cheese and some sausage. It already held cookies and banana bread. Tying on a big yellow bow, she smirked. He didn’t expect a “welcome to the neighborhood.” Wouldn’t Nathan Forester be surprised?
Josh was still on the phone with his friend, a big smile on his face.
“I’m taking this next door,” she said.
He nodded, his hands waving as he talked to Zach.
She unlocked the door and hoisted the basket. Time to greet—or irritate—her neighbor.
The banging had stopped. Maybe Nathan was gone and she could leave the basket at his door.
She rounded the corner and found his door wide open. Luck was never with her.
The only time she’d been lucky had been when she’d met Brad. Being with him had made her forget Mama’s drinking. And Josh was her lucky charm. He made her count her blessings every day.
She knocked on the door frame.
“Come on in,” Nathan called.
Boxes filled the hall. In the living room, Nathan sprawled in a recliner, a bottle at his lips. Empty beer bottles, along with a six-pack and a pizza carton, sat on a stack of boxes.
He’d stripped off his T-shirt. Good lord, the man was ripped. A trickle of sweat ran between her breasts.
She lifted the basket. It blocked the view of the six-pack. Both six-packs. “Welcome.”
Nathan grinned. Then shook his head as if he’d gotten water in his ears. “You brought me a basket? With a big bow?”
Since she didn’t see any table space, she set it on the floor. “Enjoy.”
She turned to leave.
Before she could go, he was out of the chair and had grabbed her hand. “Thanks.”
She wrenched herself out of his grasp.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He held up his hands. “I forgot. You don’t like to be touched.”
She scooted back and hit the living room wall.
“Or crowded.” He shoved his hand through his hair. The blond mass looked like he’d been doing that all night. “I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day.”
“It’s...fine.” She straightened, pretending his closeness didn’t bother her. But her chest was so tight she could barely draw a breath.
“It’s not fine. My mom would have my head.” He sighed. “I thought you were trying to get Abby not to rent to me.”
“Oh.” He was right. “I brought a peace offering.”
He pointed at the basket, a grin lighting his face. “What did you bring me?”
“Healthy snacks,” she said primly.
“Healthy?” His smile faded. “Um, thanks.”
She laughed. “And maybe cookies.”
“Cookies.” He crouched at her feet and dug through the contents. “Sausage. Cheese. I can deal with fruit.”
“Like I said, enjoy.” She shuffled sideways but there was nowhere to go. Nathan and the basket had her caged next to the wall.
He looked up. “Do you want a beer?”
She couldn’t hold back a shudder. “I don’t drink.”
“Ever?”
“Maybe once a year.” She’d sipped champagne at Abby’s wedding.
He frowned. “Are you an alcoholic?”
“No!” But based on all the empty bottles, he might be.
This was a bad idea. She’d wanted to show him she was the better person. And, to be truthful, she was feeling guilty. She’d hoped Abby would turn him down. So sue me.
He dug out a cookie and took a bite. His eyes closed and he gave a little moan. “What are these?” he asked, his mouth full.
“Snickerdoodles.” Josh’s favorite.
“Thanks for this.” He stood and his gaze caught hers.
She’d never been this close to him. Golden sparks flickered in his coffee-colored eyes. Her fingers ached to push his unruly sun-kissed hair away from his forehead.
Had to be a mother’s instinct and not the desire to stare into his eyes.
She hadn’t been this close to a man since...since Levi attacked her. Now that she looked closer, his eyes were bloodshot. She inhaled and caught a whiff of the beer.
Just like Levi.
“I’ve got to go.” She pushed past him, brushing against his chest even though she made herself as small as possible.
She hurried down the short hall between their doors and flipped the lock behind her. She and Josh didn’t need the kind of trouble Nathan could bring.
* * *
NATHAN PRESSED THE trowel against the concrete they’d poured a couple of hours ago. “It’s setting up,” he called to Jed.
Jed wiped his arm across his face. “Amazing in this humidity.”
While the crew built the next forms, Nathan moved to the floor next to the exterior wall. In the still-drying concrete, he sketched a steaming cup of coffee and a piece of pie. Then he added his initials below. If anyone spotted it when the job was over, they wouldn’t have a clue who NEF was, but drawing in the concrete had become a tradition on all his jobs.
Maybe the Fitzgeralds would want to do the same thing?
Nathan moved over to Jed. “You got this?” he asked the supervisor.
Jed watched the chute as the concrete spilled into the next section of floor. “Yup.”
“I’ll be right back.” Nathan headed across the courtyard.
He knocked and stepped into the kitchen. “Anyone here?”
“Me.” Abby moved into sight. “What’s up?”
“We’re pouring the restaurant floor. I wondered...” Now the idea sounded stupid, like most everything that came out of his mouth.