The Unknown Twin. Kathryn Shay
any windows open.”
CHAPTER FOUR
VINCE WOJOHOWITZ LOOKED like a younger version of Arnold Schwarzenegger. Alex had called his friend, a police detective, when he and Lauren discovered the open window in her living room. Not wanting a repeat of last night, where the cop, who turned out to be Vince’s partner, had doubted Lauren, Alex had decided to call in his buddy.
“Okay, Lauren, let me get this down on paper.” Perched on the edge of her lounger, Vince whipped out a pad and grabbed the pencil from behind his ear. “Shoot.”
Lauren ran a shaky hand over her kitten Caramel’s back. The movement of her fingers was slow and languid, and Alex’s eyes were glued to it. Hannah, sitting next to Lauren on the couch, touched her friend’s shoulder. She and Vince had been about to go to dinner when Alex called.
Alex listened to Lauren’s melodic voice retell the simple facts: they’d come home, she was certain she hadn’t left the window open or unlocked, especially after thinking someone had broken in the night before, yet the window was ajar. Alex bent down and picked up Butterscotch, Lauren’s other cat. The appropriately titled feline burrowed into him, much like Lauren had when she’d discovered the window. He’d been moved by her vulnerability. “Be sure to tell Vince about last night.”
“I already did.”
“You need to again, so I get it right.” Vince glanced at his fiancée and smiled.
After they finished, Vince rose. “Well, I’ll be going.”
From where he stood by the window, Alex saw Lauren frown. “What do you mean, I?”
“Honey, I’m going to stay with you.” Hannah gave her a sympathetic look. She was dressed to the nines in a slinky black dress and killer heels.
“No way. I’ve already interrupted your evening. I’m fine.”
The couple looked torn.
Hannah said, “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ll stay.” Alex grinned. “Lauren promised me dinner anyway.”
Hannah shot her a quizzical glance. “Oh, well then.” She rose and leaned into Vince. “I’ll come back after dinner to spend the night.”
Watching Vince’s face, Alex had to bite back a smile. Police officers and firefighters routinely sacrificed personal time for the job. But Alex could tell his buddy had romance in mind, and the guy was struggling to conceal his disappointment.
“Absolutely not.” Dislodging the cat, Lauren stood. “Under no circumstances will you do that.” When her friend started to object, Lauren insisted. “I won’t let you in if you come back, Hannah. I mean it.”
Alex liked her spunk, well hidden under her demure manner. Not to mention her unselfishness. She’d been mighty scared when she thought someone had broken in a second time.
“All right. But if you get frightened after Alex leaves, promise you’ll call my cell.”
“I promise. Now scoot so I don’t completely ruin your evening out.”
Dropping the cat on the floor, Alex walked them to the foyer with Lauren. “Thanks, buddy,” he said, punching Vince in the arm. “I owe you one.”
“Call Sam Prophet about this.”
“We will.”
When they left, Lauren turned and faced him. “You’re a nice guy, Alex Shields.”
He couldn’t help it. Reaching out, he pushed a stray tendril of silky hair behind her ear. He brushed the knuckles of his other hand over her equally silky cheek. The texture of Lauren entranced him. “You okay?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I hate inconveniencing anybody.”
“People care about you, Lauren. They want to help.”
“I know.” She smiled. “Thanks for staying.”
“Hey, it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.” He watched her. “I want to be with you, Lauren.”
She smiled and leaned into him. Man, he liked that. He held her close, though he’d never seen himself as a cuddler. Lauren brought out unexpected reactions in him.
“I want to be with you, too.” She drew back. “Now, come to the kitchen with me and I’ll start dinner while you get us a drink.”
He cocked his head. “What does one drink with quiche?”
“Something sweet and syrupy.”
He grimaced.
“Just kidding. I’ve got Scotch, I think. Maybe a beer or two.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
As he followed her to the kitchen, Alex wondered if Lauren Conway was going to be the one to capture his heart permanently. The thought wasn’t at all unpleasant.
THE QUICHE, CHEESY AND HOT, tasted as good as she had hoped it would. The bread was as light and airy as froth. The wine was tart. But Alex kept distracting Lauren from the food. “Didn’t your mother feel bad when you switched majors in college?” she asked after he told her about his jump from genetics to fire fighting.
“She didn’t seem to. My mom’s a special person.” His smile was warm and loving. It made Lauren’s heart clutch, thinking about her own mother. It had only been a year, and she still missed her parents so much she found it hard to talk about them.
Alex, on the other hand, seemed to love to talk about his mother. “She and Dad are so different. She met him when he was treated at the hospital for burns and she was in med school.”
“Did she worry about the danger of fire fighting?”
“A smoke-eater’s wife can’t afford to worry.”
“What about a smoke-eater’s mother?”
He knit his brows. “Probably. Though she never showed it.”
“I’d worry. I can’t imagine the man I love risking his life every day. Or my son. I’d be a wreck.”
“It’s funny. Before nine-eleven, I never heard spouses of firefighters talk about that. But now that time has passed, the worrying seems to have leveled off.” He sipped his Scotch. Leaning back in his chair, he draped his arm over the back. She’d title this picture “Man After Dinner.” He said, “Tell me about your parents.”
Emotion constricted her throat. She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “They were a lot alike. Both lawyers. Both right brained. Serious people. I was a surprise to them.”
“Having you, you mean?”
“No, my creative streak. Most of the time, they didn’t know quite what to make of me.”
“I’m sorry. Were you unhappy as a kid?”
“Not in the way you mean. They loved me to pieces. I fascinated them, though, in how different I was.” She frowned. “They did everything they could to make me feel accepted and loved. I was, I know that. It’s just that I’ve always had this feeling of not…belonging, I guess.”
Alex looked concerned but didn’t respond.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She studied him. “Tell me.”
“It’s just the eye-color thing. And if you were that different from them…” He let the suggestion trail off, but she got the implication.
Shaking her head, she toyed with her fork. “That doesn’t mean I’m adopted, Alex. My mother saw me being born. I have the tape.”
“Lauren, I think you should meet the Ivies.”