“Wait. You were hit on by a drunk woman last night, and you think…” Her eyes narrowed, and she asked, “What exactly did she look like?”
I gestured at her, my patience razor thin. “You. Do you have split personalities or something?”
Her eyes widened for half a beat, then she snorted, the sound soft but loaded with enough exasperation that my mouth almost curved upward. “Only if my split personality lives outside my body and is pure evil.” When I didn’t immediately answer, mostly because my brain was busy catching up to the obvious, she huffed and shook her head like I’d disappointed her. “Uh, duh. I have an evil twin. Do you not read?”
My lips twitched before I could stop them. Then I was nearly bowled over with shock when I realized I believed her. I had no damn reason to, not one practical piece of proof beyond instinct and the fact that everything about her sat differently beneath the identical face, but the truth settled in my gut before logic got a vote.
The woman in front of me wasn’t Sutton. She wasn’t the drunk problem from last night. And every nerve in my body had recognized the difference before my head caught on.
“You’re not Sutton?”
“Nope.”
My voice had lost most of the harshness when I asked, “Then what’s your name?”
She clearly noticed my change in tone, and her gaze drifted over my face, wary now in a way that made me want to curse myself for how I’d come at her. But she wasn’t melting just because I’d adjusted my tone, and damn if that didn’t make the heat in my blood kick harder.
She pushed off the stool, and I got a better look at her body. She was about a foot shorter than my six-foot-four stature, with perky tits, wide hips, and legs that seemed too long for someone of average height. She wasn’t dressed to bait attention but drew mine anyway until my fingers flexed with the urge to test the curve of her waist.
“None of your business,” she clipped, grabbing her purse from the bar.
She turned away from me, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “arrogant jerk,” and for the first time in a long damn while, I stood still when I should’ve moved.
The realization that she was Sutton’s identical twin hit me so hard that it took a few seconds for my body to respond to the fact that she was walking away.
The relief was nearly as strong as the attraction. It slid through me with a brutal kind of clarity, explaining why the woman from last night had done nothing for me, but this one had my body ready to break every rule of public decency in a bar full of my brothers.
She was fucking mine.
When whatever stunned hold had locked my boots to the floor finally cleared, she was already halfway to the door. She was moving fast enough that her dark hair swung over one shoulder and the hem of her top lifted just enough to show a flash of skin above her jeans. Heat slammed through me again,filling my head with images of her back arching, her sharp little tongue finally too busy making softer sounds to cut me with words.
My cock throbbed hard enough to make me grit my teeth, but the hunger didn’t scatter my focus. She was getting away, and that wasn’t going to fucking happen.
I’d watched enough brothers get taken out at the knees by one reckless little slip of fate to know exactly what it meant when certainty landed in a man’s chest like a brand. This woman belonged to me, and she had no idea this would be the last time she tried to walk away from me.
3
SAYLOR
Ishoved through the door of The Burnout, my cheeks burning out of anger instead of the summer Florida heat.
“What an arrogant, rude, ridiculously hot jerk,” I muttered under my breath, stalking across the parking lot toward my car.
The second I saw him stalking toward me at the bar, I’d been struck speechless. I had never reacted to a guy like that before, but he was tall, dark, and handsome to a T. With an air of danger, too.
His brown hair was just long enough to look tousled, and his neatly cropped beard and mustache framed lips that were entirely too kissable. A black tire track tattoo wrapped around his right bicep, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt. Masculinity rolled off him in waves, making him stand out even in a bar full of bikers. His brown eyes had locked on me like I was the only person in the room, and I’d thought it was because he’d felt the same spark of attraction.
Then he opened his mouth, and I was struck by the familiar urge to strangle my twin sister. I had no clue what she was doing in Florida, let alone Crossbend, but I wasn’t as surprised as Ishould be that she’d somehow turned up at the perfect time to ruin things with the first guy I wanted to climb like a tree.
It sucked so much that he thought I’d spent the night before throwing myself at him when I didn’t even know the man existed. Sutton had pulled a lot of stunts, but this one hurt more than it should.
All I could do was comfort myself with a reminder that a hot biker with a bad attitude was the last complication I needed.
I’d only been in town for six weeks, and this was my first real attempt at a social life outside of my job. Now I needed to text Rain and let her know I wouldn’t be here when she showed up. Definitely not a great way to start a new friendship.
I fished my keys out of my purse, my fingers trembling slightly as I clicked the button to unlock my car. Cursing the moment our mama’s fertilized egg split into two separate embryos because having Sutton for a twin was the absolute worst.
The crunch of heavy boots on gravel made me freeze.
