Page 98 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Is he expecting you?”

“Not even a little.”

We walk beside one another, and I still can’t get over how identical they are.

“Is it weird for you?” he asks. “The twin thing.”

“Kinda. A familiar stranger is unsettling,” I admit.

“Never thought of it that way.”

He has the same face and voice, but with entirely different frequency and energy. It’s throwing me off.

Patterson unlocks the door for me, and I slip inside the SUV. It still has that new-car leather smell. A dark leather bag is thrown in the back seat. He drives with one hand on the wheel, comfortable, like he grew up mountain driving. I notice the ring on his finger again.

“How long have you been married?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

“Since last year. To the love of my life. Her name is Kendall. Fun family fact: Jamie dated her first.” He offers the information freely.

“Wait.” My eyes widen. “You married her?”

“Yeah, it’s a really long, complicated story,” he explains.

Jamie confessed to me that he dated the woman his brother was in love with, but he failed to mention she was his sister-in-law now. I wonder how many more half-truths he shared with me.

“He told me,” I tell him.

“Really?” Patterson asks, and I see the same expression on his face that I’ve noticed on Jamie’s. The contemplative, deep thinking one. “He usually doesn’t share that.”

“I’m not just anyone,” I say with a smile.

“I can see that,” Patterson tells me, making the next turn up the ridge. We climb higher. “It all worked out in the end. I wouldn’t change it.”

He glances at me, then back at the road. I have a million questions soaring through me, and I go for it because my intuition is urging me to.

“Are you aware of a family curse?”

Patterson laughs so hard that he starts choking. “He told you that too? Damn, what did you do, cast a spell on him?”

I smirk. “I am a witch.”

“Ahh,” he says, nodding. “The witch. Actually, he mentioned you.”

My heart races. “He did?”

“Yeah. Weeks ago,” Patterson admits. “You actually are different from the others.”

That makes me smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” he says, his face barely lit by the dash. “But protect yourself, Blaire. Don’t get too attached. I’ll tell you what I tell every woman I’ve met who’s fallen for my brother … he’s a ruthless heartbreaker.”

“Thanks for the warning, but I don’t need it.”

“I hope you don’t.” He hums along to the radio while the road keeps climbing.

Don’t get too attached. I’ve been repeating that to myself since the day we met. It has a different effect when it comes from a man wearing his face.

“Can I ask you another question?” I ask.