Page 16 of Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin

I couldn't help but smile, too. “Nice work. I'm impressed. Not too many can throw one over on her.”

“Yeah, but now I'm stuck with you.”

What a complete ass!Stuck with me?I shoved the gift bags I was carrying at his chest. He grabbed them with an oompf. His hands held the rest of the bags, so he juggled the load to keep it all from dropping onto the snowy ground.

“No, you're not. I've got a date with George,” I countered. The ludicrous statement just popped into my head. Anger made me do crazy things.

“Date?” Jack looked at me, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, a date. Big guy, beard.” I tried not to laugh as I described Zach's ceramic gnome in the van. “See you later,Reid.” I turned my back on him and walked away, as safely as a snowy sidewalk would let me. Once I climbed into the van and turned the heat to full blast, I considered my options. I wasn't going back into work. Goldie would just yell at me about being rude to a man who liked to have kinky sex with me by abandoning him in the freezing cold. I could go to Jack's uncle's house and get some work done, but it would be dark soon and there was no electricity. I could go to Violet's, climb in bed and throw the blankets over my head. That idea appealed to me the most. But I couldn't do that right away. I had to kill some time first, just in case Jack appeared. I needed to spend at least two hours on my ‘date.’

When I put the van into drive, I knew just where I had to go—the library, to check out some bodice ripping romance novels for inspiration for this supposed book Goldie expected me to write. It was a little sad I had no real-life inspiration to use. I did have Jack as my new roommate and that could, technically, allow for some interesting book writing fodder. But I wanted to kill the man. Still, I did want to kiss him. Even as a complete jerk who'd slept with my sister, told Goldie I was into kink, was going to make me pay his ER bill, and thought I was a shoddy worker, he was still hot enough to kiss. I'd kiss him, andthenkill him. Maybe I needed to switch genres to True Crime.

9

After the library, I went home and happily changed into a pair of fleece jammie pants with a blue snowflake motif, an old MSU hoodie and a thick pair of wool socks. I pulled my hair back into a sloppy ponytail. I chucked my dirty clothes in the direction of the laundry hamper. Since Violet's washer and dryer were in the scary, dark basement, I wasn't in a rush for clean clothes.

It got dark early, so I was happy to get comfortable—and warm. I nuked some leftovers my mom had given me the other day and ate them standing at the counter reading a plumbing supply catalog. After washing up, I climbed in bed, cranked the electric blanket to ten, fluffed my pillows and snuggled in with my research selection. Was it to beThe Devilish Duke, Panties In A Twist, No Knickers NickorThigh High Noon?

I’d just finished the fourth chapter ofThigh High Noonwhen all hell broke loose.

Boom!

I jumped a foot and my heart shot up into my throat at the loud noise, the library books scattering across the bed and thunking onto the floor. A car alarm went off.

Boom! Boom!

I shot out of bed and sprinted to the front door. Fumbling with keys and swearing came from the other side. I turned the deadbolt and yanked open the door, Jack practically falling into the living room.

“Get down! Some fucker is shooting at me!”

He slammed the door shut with his shoulder then pushed me down so he was sprawled on top of me. I was on my back, wedged between a cold, but very hard muscled man, and a cold and very hard floor.

Boom!

“See?”

Jack had that intense look of someone who handled panic well. Reasonably well, at least. His pupils were dilated, jaw clenched tight.

His breath was warm, his chest solid, his leg wedged between mine with his thigh brushing against me in all the right places. I was warming up quickly, especially when he shifted and he bumped against that one spot that made me feel oh, so good.

“It's Old Mr. Chalmers,” I gasped, trying to calm him, and keep from focusing on our compromising position or the very big bulge pressing into my belly.

“Who?” he asked. “Who the hell is that?”

I pushed at his chest and he rolled off me. I felt my nipples pebble, as if they craved Jack's body pressing into them. Sighing, I stood up, but Jack yanked on my wrist to pull me back down. His hand was freezing.

I looked at him, tried to reassure him we weren't under siege. “He lives across the street. It's okay. He only has bird seed in his shotgun.”

“Only bird seed,” Jack repeated. He tentatively stood up and peeked through the front window into the darkness. Boom! Jack ducked back out of sight.

“Why is he shooting at me?” He ran a hand over his face, took a deep breath. “How the hell do you stop him?”

I patted Jack's hand. “Relax, Reid. I'll go talk to him.” I was actually enjoying call him Reid. It was a blatant taunt, kind of like poking the hibernating bear, but there was more to Jack than he was sharing. Goldie had gotten a little bit of his life story out of him, but not enough. Maybe pushing his buttons would get him to open up.

“Oh no, you won't!”

Jack's protectiveness was very endearing—especially when he laid on top of me—but misplaced. I went to the door, pulled it open about a foot and yelled out. “Mr. Chalmers, it's me, Veronica!”