Nathan scowls.
“Oh my God. I knew it was too good to be true…seeing a woman who looks like you on a dating app.” He shoves back from the table, and I scramble to stand. Jude’s head whips back and forth between us, his eyebrows at his hairline.
“Nathan, I’m sorry. You don’t understand. I’m not—”
“Forget it. I’m out of here.”
He tosses his napkin on the plate in front of him and heads for the entrance, his legs churning at full speed. The rest of the patrons eye me with contempt—having overheard enough details to consider themselves judge and jury—and my whole body shakes with anger and embarrassment.
This is a freaking disaster.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—” Jude seems a little stunned and tries to apologize, but my crazy train has already left the station, and the horn of embarrassment has already been blown. There’s no turning back now, so I don’t even bother checking myself before I lay into him at a less than respectable restaurant volume.
“You ruined it! I cannot believe you ruined my freaking date! Have you lost your mind? Why on earth would you think it was appropriate to come over here?”
“I’m genuinely sorry, Belle. I just wanted to offer my congratulations.”
“Well, I’m not Belle, and you’ve officially fucked me. So, thanks. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
Wrinkles form between his brows as they pinch toward each other. “You’re not Belle?”
“No!” I nearly shout. “I’m Sophie. Her twin.”
“Oh Jesus. Shit. Fuckinggg hell, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well. Sorry’s not going to turn back time, now is it? The only woman who can make me feel like it’s possible is Cher. And I don’t see her here.”
Jude
She grabs her purse from the top of the table and skirts it to the other side, glaring at me as she goes. Her hips sway with the speed of her walk, and everything about the motion turns me on.
Combine that with how much her unexpected Cher reference makes me want to laugh, and I’m a steamy pile of ready to fuck.
But I’m confused. My hormones are raging, spiked up on the kind of adrenaline I was desperate to tap into with this sister the night of the bachelorette party. This is the way her twin, Belle, made me feel. That’s why I could have sworn it was her. But it’s not her; it’s Sophie. The available sister.
Well now, Jude. That’s a horse of a different color.
“I’m sorry,” I call after her softly, hastening my step to catch up to her and grabbing gently at her elbow. “Really.”
She spins around to glare at me. “Your assumption just ruined my date.”
“Yes,” I say, taking all of the guilt without avoidance. That’s the good part about being the fall guy in a family of five kids, I suppose. I don’t shy away from responsibility, even if it’s uncomfortable. “And I really apologize. It was incredibly rude of me to interrupt, even if you had been your sister. And inappropriate, I suppose, given how you know me. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea in the first place, but please, now that the damage is done, let me make it up to you.”
“How exactly do you plan to do that?” she challenges. “My date is already gone, and the night is effectively over. Unless you’ve got a time machine in your pocket, I’d say things are pretty much screwed.”
I squeeze my lips tightly in an effort not to laugh at her—because though she’s definitely being funny, I doubt any kind of amusement is the response she’s looking for—and hold up my hands in a semi-shrug.
“I don’t have a time machine. I wish I did because that would be really fucking cool, but even without it, the night doesn’t have to be over. He’s gone, but he’s not the only guy on the planet.” I slam my palm into my chest. “Hell, I’m one, and I’m standing right here. Spend the rest of the date with me.”
“That’s not how this works! That’s not how any of this works.” She shakes her head and turns to leave again, walking with determination toward the front door. The urge to reach out and stop her again is strong, but I know it’s not even remotely my right to touch her without permission either. My best bet is to try to keep up with her quickly churning legs and reason with her while we move.
“Why not?” I ask, positioning myself just off her flank as we climb the stairs to the main reception area of the restaurant. Heidi notices us, and her head tilts in concerned curiosity, but ultimately, she settles back behind the hostess stand when I glance back and offer a calm smile.
“Because you’re not part of the plan.”
“So?” I question. “Plans change. Things happen. And when they do, you make a new plan.”