Thanks to Brigit crying and not wanting me to leave her, I was running late. At three and a half months old, she was a momma’s girl. Well, as long as Daddy wasn’t around. My mother had finally shooed me out the door, telling me to enjoy my date with my husband.
We had gotten married in Iowa with me hugely pregnant, and Phoenix worried I would go into labor during the ceremony. His brother had been deployed and was unable to come back for the wedding. Not that Phoenix told me that, his mom had. Though I really didn’t want to wait, I offered to for Phoenix. He had abruptly told me we weren’t waiting. Part of me was extremely relieved. The other part hated that there was such a divide between the two brothers. Secretly, I made it my mission to find a way to get them to talk—if not for them, then for their mom.
“Dammit!” I muttered as I dropped my keys. Crouching, I scooped them up, then hurried inside Atlas. The bar was decorated for St. Patrick’s Day. It was hard to believe it had been almost a year since Phoenix had shown back up in Texas, and we’d found out I was pregnant.
My handsome husband sat with his back to me as he chatted with the bartender and drank a beer. While I’d found the dreads sexy when we first met, the shaved sides and top long was a good look on him too. Hell, anything was a good look on him. The man was fine as fuck—and he was all mine.
“Hello, sexy,” I murmured in his ear and slipped my hands around his middle. Immediately, I froze and withdrew. He spun on the stool, and I moved back several steps. The smirk was familiar, but the way he gave me a once-over wasn’t.
“Well, if that’s the way women welcome men to Texas, sign me up. I should’ve come a long time ago,” the not-Phoenix said with a crooked grin. Though he sounded like him and looked enough like him, they could’ve been twins, he was definitely not my husband.
From over my shoulder, I sensed rather than saw Phoenix approach. He did that to me, and I should’ve known when I went up to the bar. That feeling had been missing as I’d approached the man, I now realized was Phoenix’s brother.
Phoenix practically growled as he wrapped an arm possessively around me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Of course I knew Phoenix had a twin, but I’d never met him and wasn’t expecting him here, so it threw me. The almost palpable animosity was what had me looking from one to the other in worry.
“Babe, meet my little brother, Keenan,” Phoenix ground out with an almost disgusted curl of his lip.
“Little brother,” Keenan scoffed. “By a whole two and a half minutes.”
“Whatever. Obviously you got out of the military?” Phoenix questioned with a scowl as his stormy eyes scanned his brother’s features.
“Yeah. Figured it was time.” His eyes shadowed, and the playful, easy grin fell from his face.
“So back to my original question, what the fuck are you doing here, and how long are you here for?” Phoenix asked. As he waited for a response, the muscle in his jaw jumped. The bad blood was evident, but I didn’t understand why. I mean, sure, Phoenix rarely spoke about his brother, but I just figured they weren’t overly close—not that there was that level of almost hatred—at least on Phoenix’s side.
“Mom and Dad told me you moved here.”
“And?”
“And so did I,” Keenan replied with a grim stare.
“W-What?” Phoenix demanded with a shocked stutter. Eyes wide, his face paled.
“The last ten years have been hell without you. Don’t you understand what it’s like to try to live with half of yourself?” With an earnest plea in his dark eyes, Keenan held Phoenix’s gaze.
“Yeah. Every fucking day.”
My chest was tight, and I was practically holding myself together by a million tattered edges to prevent myself from fraying and falling apart. There hadn’t been a single person in the world that I’d loved more than my brother. When we moved away from Chicago, he’d blamed me, and things had become strained. Keenan had become angry and had constantly gotten himself in trouble.
It had done a number on me. He was literally my other half. We’d shared a womb together and been inseparable until we hit high school and I started dating Deidra. He’d been resentful of my relationship, which drove a wedge between us. That had only been the beginning, however.
“Can we talk?” Keenan asked. For a split second, his gaze appeared haunted, but with a blink, it was gone.
“Oh, now you want to talk? Fifteen years later, you want to work through our issues?” This wasn’t me, and I hated that I was lashing out at the one person who knew me better than anyone. Except the anger was so intense, it was like I was that young boy again. Fueled by hurt and driven by loss, I continued to spit my vitriol. “You proved a long time ago that you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Taking Sloane’s hand, I walked away. The entire way to the door, his eyes burned into my back.
“Phoenix,” Sloane softly started, but I cut her off.
“Don’t.”
I’d practically dragged her to my bike in my intense need to get away from Keenan. When she jerked her hand free, I stopped and spun to face her. The worried and searching stare she gave me seemed to go right through me. In frustration, my hands raked through my hair. That offended me too, because how dare he look like me now. In the back of my mind, I knew I was being ridiculous and unreasonable. Christ, we were identical twins; of course we looked alike. Yet, I still wondered if he’d seen a picture of me at our parents or if it was that insane invisible connection we had. The hair, the clothing style, the same fucking boots—yeah, I’d noticed that too—being at the bar we frequented when in town, all of it.
“Fine, I’ll meet you at home,” I grumbled and started toward my bike.
Then I stopped short. “This isn’t my fucking bike!” I complained, damn near throwing a fit like a toddler. Though it looked damn near identical to mine, it had temp tags on it, and it didn’t have the RBMC decal on the rear fender. Deep inside, I knew it was his, and I wanted to kick it over.