Have My Baby (Crescent Cove 1)

“Nope, day off,” I said as cheerfully as I could manage. “Nice to see you’re back in town. Successful trip?”

“Of course.” He went back to his menu, signaling our brief exchange was over.

Okay then.

I shifted to glance at Seth’s twin. As always, their similarities nearly knocked me off my feet, especially when I could still smell Seth’s scent on my skin no matter how much soap I’d used. “Hi Oliver.”

“Al,” he said, smiling thinly. “Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“Oh, I’ve been around.” I gripped Sage’s lanyard hanging out of my jeans pocket. “Well, I won’t disrupt your lunch—”

“Did you and Seth have a falling out?”

I frowned, unsure if I’d heard Oliver correctly. “What?”

“Are you and Seth beefing?” His lips twitched and for a second, I almost smiled too. Seth was the lighthearted twin, but occasionally, the normally uptight Oliver let loose with a sarcastic remark or a joke.

“No.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and hoped my embarrassment didn’t show on my face. The inferno inflaming my cheeks didn’t give me much hope. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Why would you ask?”

“Just haven’t seen you two together lately.” Oliver smoothed a manicured hand over the laminated menu he had to have memorized by now. The diner wasn’t his typical hangout as it was Seth’s—and it definitely wasn’t Mr. Hamilton’s—but it was almost impossible to live in Crescent Cove without patronizing it now and then. “You’re usually glued at the hip. The only other time you weren’t was when he was married, and even that was a brief interruption. Marjorie couldn’t compete with you.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Not sure any woman can.”

The hum of conversation around us had nothing on the buzz in my brain. “What are you talking about?”

He adjusted his tie, stroking it as if he was already bored with the conversation. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Why, Alison, you didn’t know Oliver introduced Marjorie to Seth? He thought she was just the sort of woman his brother was—” Mr. Hamilton fell silent, and when the heavy beat of approaching footsteps cut through the chaos in my head, I understood why.

“Oliver was as dense then as he is now. Hey, Dad. Good trip?” Before his father could answer, Seth rested his hand on my lower back. Even without looking at him, the weight of his stare seared the side of my neck. “Hey, you.”

“And the natural world order is restored,” Oliver said, glancing pointedly between me and Seth before flashing me an I-told-you-so smile. “I was afraid you must’ve been dead in a gutter somewhere if Al was left alone for more than a moment or two. Oh, and love your new accessory. It’s so you.”

I glanced down and bit my lip at the sight of my bright red patent leather dressy purse in Seth’s big hand. He didn’t relinquish it, and I didn’t ask.

“Such a comedian.” With his free hand, Seth brushed my hair away from my cheek and I bristled. We were affectionate in public, but not to this level. “Did you eat?” he asked in a way that a, didn’t befit a guy who’d just been ditched post-sex for the second time or b, my purely platonic friend.

Rather than reply, I jerked my chin at the burger at the next table. My stomach promptly grumbled, making Seth laugh and steer me in that direction. “Lunchtime. See you later.”

“You don’t want to eat with your family?” I asked out of the side of my mouth.

“I work with them every day. I don’t have to eat every lunch with them too.” So much for being polite.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Hamilton.” No matter what Seth did, I never forgot my manners.

“What, not nice to see me?” Oliver smirked and wiggled his fingers.

“No,” Seth responded before I could, guiding me to one side of the booth.

I pried out the well-worn paperback I’d shoved in the back pocket of my capris before sitting down. Seth dropped into the bench on the other side. I frowned at him, well aware we couldn’t have anything resembling a semblance of a normal conversation. He simply slid my purse across the table and lifted a brow at the book I still clutched.

“The Sun Also Rises?”

“So? I enjoy the classics.” I picked up my burger and bit in, letting out a moan. Sage had made the burger just the way I loved them—medium rare, extra mushrooms and pickles, light on the ketchup and mayo, heavy on the cheese. I was so into it that I didn’t glance at Seth again until I’d taken another bite, chewed, and swallowed.

He seemed to be short on air. He was breathing too fast, and he’d grabbed hold of one of the stack of napkins to lay across his lap.

Not because he was afraid of flying pickle either, I was willing to bet.

I giggled. Honest to God giggled like a high school girl. And risked his family overhearing me as I leaned forward and whispered, “You can’t be.”