Her Reason To Stay. Anna Adams
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“We’re talking trust. You both want to know each other, and that’s going to take trust.” He reached for the door then turned to look at her. She was right in a way. Those few minutes with Daphne had changed his feelings. It didn’t make sense and it wasn’t convenient. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Raina.”
She’d always been the younger sister he’d never had, but the image of her twin, using her body to push through the revolving door, made him hitch his shoulders beneath a shirt that suddenly tormented his skin.
He’d looked at Raina almost every day of her life. He’d talked to her and laughed with her and protected her, but Daphne was different. Her sad eyes had made him wonder about the secrets hiding behind them. He had felt the taut weight of her breasts, a breath away from his chest, as if he’d held her already.
After living alone with his son for long, empty, safe months, he’d longed to wrap his arms around Daphne’s slender waist and simply take pleasure in her warmth and curves.
Wouldn’t he be safe with a woman who wanted family as badly as she did? Did he dare even entertain the possibility? After such deep acquaintance with fear and anger, hope seemed to sting.
“I’ve got to get to Will,” he said.
LATER THAT DAY, Daphne inhaled the coffee aroma, trying not to be noticed by the woman and little girl in line in front of her, not wanting them to mistake her for Raina. She checked her watch. She’d arrived at Cosmic Grounds about fifteen minutes early for her appointment with her sister, but it gave her time to appreciate the dark wood wainscoting beneath rich red walls without gawking like the stranger she was.
She eyed buttery-smelling scones on plates beside jars of biscotti and chocolate-chip cookies wrapped in crinkly sleeves. The little girl plucked a praline out of a pyramid of the fat caramel-colored candies.
“Can I have one, Mommy?”
Her mother glanced down, barely comprehending. “I guess.” Then she looked startled when the girl behind the counter asked for more money.
Daphne risked a scan of the other customers, a man buried behind a newspaper, a young girl running her index finger over a tome the size of the Domesday Book. The girl sipped her coffee. Her short cap of brown hair fell away from her face, and she smiled with tired gray eyes.
Daphne had worked her way through a criminology degree. She recognized the signs of unremitting study. The girl went back to her work, and Daphne sighed, hoping despite a healthy dose of wariness that this might become her favorite coffee shop.
Cosmic Grounds didn’t compare in size or even selection to the chain coffee shop down the block. Interesting that Raina had chosen it for their meeting. She seemed conventional all the way. Maybe she was hoping that the two of them wouldn’t be seen by too many of her neighbors.
The mother and daughter hurried from the shop, balancing a coffee cup, a small container of hot cocoa and the girl’s candy.
Daphne didn’t realize she’d been watching them until she turned back to find the spiky-haired blonde behind the counter staring at her. Daphne glanced over her shoulder again before she realized the college-aged young woman must have thought she was Raina.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” the girl said, but then slapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d dared too much. Was Raina a snob?
Daphne slid her hands inside her jean pockets. “I’m not my sister” almost slipped out of her mouth. But even as the idea of Raina intimidating coffeeshop employees troubled her, she didn’t want to criticize her sister.
Forget it. The good citizens of Honesty would soon find there were two of them, and this girl could expect the shock any moment.
The girl lifted her khaki Cosmic Grounds baseball cap and settled it again on her spiky hairdo. “Can I help you?”
“May I have a café au lait and a cherry scone?”
“Sure.” Smacking a big wad of gum, she tapped out the charges and gave Daphne the bill, still studying her. “I’ll bring it to your table.”
Daphne paid then found a spot for two in a dark corner. Until she knew how Raina felt, it might be best to keep their meeting private.
Trying to be invisible reminded Daphne of how she’d spent her adolescence, hunched over, pretending she wasn’t a developing young woman, that she didn’t exist, hoping no one else would try to touch her.
She was spending her twenties learning to live confidently in her own skin.
A small hand with a Celtic ring tattooed in henna on its index finger slid a mug and scone onto the table.
“I like that.” Daphne pointed to the girl’s finger.
“You like it?”
Daphne almost laughed. Raina must not seem like a tattoo kind of girl. The door opened, making the bell above it peal. The girl turned to greet her new customer. Only to wheel back and eye Daphne.
“I thought you were her.”
“You’re probably wondering why now.” Seeing them both, no one would have trouble telling the sophisticated, well-groomed Raina from Daphne.
“Hunh.” The girl whistled around her gum and went back to the counter.
Even Daphne felt confused when she looked at her twin. Daphne’s hair tended to clench like a fist in the rain, so she’d wound it into a knot before she’d climbed out of her car. Raina’s hair dared not curl. If they ever became intimate enough, Daphne would ask how her sister achieved such flawless control.
Raina placed her order then came to the table. She tucked her change into a wallet that matched her multibuckled, oversize white purse. “Sorry I kept you waiting. I couldn’t find my umbrella. I never used to be so scattered.” Not one wrinkle, not a speck of dirt touched her white suit.
Daphne marveled. Nature versus nurture. They were bound to learn which was more powerful if they got to know each other.
“You’re staring,” Raina said.
Daphne shut her mouth. “Not to be rude. Why’d you ask me to meet you here?”
“You get to the point.”
“I thought the same thing about you in Patrick’s office.” She must have said his name with some special emphasis because Raina lifted both eyebrows, leaning forward. Daphne touched her own brows.
“Patrick talked you into giving me a second chance,” Raina said. “How did he do that?”
Daphne picked a packet of sweetener out of a small ceramic holder. “He said you’d want to know me.”
Raina stared at the sweetener package for a second. “I’m sorry about accusing you, but I have money, and you…”
“Don’t. But I do have a temper.” And pride. “I have manners and feelings, despite my low-class background.”
“Right.