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  Gemma’s eyes rose to meet his. “What?”

  He kept his smile in place. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to talk to you.”

  “Is that a line?”

  “No,” he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

  Her eyes went stormy and she bit her lip. Flustered, she pushed him away and jumped down. She collected her bag and reached for the lock. “I gotta go.”

  “No, wait.” He grabbed her hand and froze. His skin was on fire. Looking down at his fingers, he felt warm licks of flame curl up each digit and spread over his hand.

  Gemma’s eyes were huge as she jerked away and rubbed her thumb over her fingertips.

  “What was that?” he whispered.

  She shook her head with a frown and backed away from him, crashing into the door. With fumbling fingers she undid the lock and burst out, weaving around the clothing racks and shooting out the door.

  Harrison leaned against the frame to watch her. He curled his fingers into a fist then flexed them straight. The warm lick of flame was rapidly cooling.

  His disappointment surprised him.

  *****

  Harrison reached his car without incident. Jordan and his thugs were either lost in the maze of streets still looking for him or they had given up. A black Ducati bike grabbed his attention as it tore past. Harrison recognized Gemma’s sleek frame. He couldn’t believe the girl owned such a powerful machine. What kind of parent buys their kid something like that?

  His definitely wouldn’t.

  He ran his hand over the roof of his beloved 1978 Corvette Stingray. He’d found it in an old junkyard and his stepfather, Bryan, had convinced him to go for it. They’d hauled it home to much laughter, making Harrison seriously doubt Bryan’s ability as a mechanic, but piece-by-piece they had worked on it, and he now owned a well-tuned classic. Dropping into the driver’s seat, he ran his hands over the wheel and smiled as the engine rumbled to life.

  As usual, the drive home was the best part of his day. He hadn’t admitted it to his mother yet, but he loved Florida’s eastern coastline. Driving over the Bridge of Lions, he headed south down the waterfront. The sun-kissed ocean sparkled like diamonds. It was a far cry from the inner cities of Pittsburgh and Atlanta. He could almost forgive his mother for uprooting them yet again. Maybe this time it would be worth it.

  He thought of Gemma as he pulled into his street, how in awe he’d been when he’d first seen her. He didn’t want to believe the rumors for a second, but when four or five of his best smiles earned him nothing more than a sharp frown, he decided to give up. But now…

  He rubbed his fingertips together. The fire feeling had gone, but not the simmering in his brain. For the first time since he was fourteen, he felt that yearning. His forehead creased with a frown.

  Pulling into his driveway, he turned off the engine and gazed up at his house. It was a large, white, two-story box. A smaller, white one-story box sat next to it and was Bryan’s beloved double garage. The house could not be plainer, but it was functional, sunny, and starting to feel like home. They all seemed happy here.

  The front door slammed with a vibrating force. An irate Rosie marched down the steps with a garbage sack in each hand. Her blonde bangs flicked back and forth and her lips moved in a torrent of words that weren’t allowed inside the house.

  Harrison grinned at his stepsister as he stepped out of the car.

  She paused. “Welcome to the tyranny that is this house!”

  “I told you not to ask Mom for any favors before ten am, but you just couldn’t wait, could ya?”

  “Shut up.”

  He tipped his head with a gentle smile. “Need a hand?”

  She sighed and grinned. He helped her lift the heavy bags into the trash cans against the garage wall then followed her through the glass kitchen door. As soon as they entered the house her scowl returned and she stomped past her stepmother and up the stairs.

  Helen smiled serenely at the huffy fourteen-year-old, then folded a pair of shorts from the huge pile of washing overtaking the kitchen table. The kitchen smelled fresh from frenzied cleaning, another reason to flee the house on Saturday mornings. Harrison closed the door behind him.

  “How do you do that, you little tin-ass freak?” Justin’s loud voice shot from the living room.

  “I am not. You just can’t handle being beaten by a six-year-old!” Sam yelled back.

  Harrison threw his keys into the bowl on the counter as Helen let out a groan and Bryan sauntered into the kitchen.

  “Tin-ass freak? Honey! They get that from you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, sweetie.”

  “I’m not thanking you, you big oaf!” She threw the towel she’d just folded at him and laughed.

  He grabbed it off his head and jumped around the table, wrapping his arms around her waist and raspberrying her neck. She giggled like a schoolgirl. Harrison folded his arms and leaned his hip against the counter, watching with a smile.

  Bryan had brought his mother back to life. Harrison had been nine when Bryan came on the scene, before that they’d just been a duo. His father died before he was born.

  Harrison had wanted to hate the guy and his two annoying kids, but fell in love with them before he could stop himself. Two years later Sam was born and his mother officially became Mrs. Helen Chatsworth.

  Harrison’s cell phone beeped, pulling the canoodling couple apart.

  “Oh hey, sweetie. How was town?”

  “Good.” He slid open his phone.

  Rosie crashed down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Okay, I’m done. Can I have my life back now?”

  She stood in front of Helen with an outstretched hand. Her stepmother held out the fuchsia pink cell phone.

  “Thank you.” She snatched it back and retreated up the stairs.

  Bryan shook his head as he closed the fridge.

  “She’s your daughter.” Helen kissed his cheek as he walked past. He slapped her on the butt and headed back out to the garage, a cold beer in hand.

  “You home for dinner, hon?” Helen placed a folded shirt onto Justin’s pile.

  Harrison slid his phone shut. “No, looks like I’m going to the movies with Darren and the girls. I’ll just grab something on the way.”

  “Please don’t have chili fries and a Coke.”

  “What do you want me to eat, Mom? Sushi?”

  “Sushi would be great.” She beamed.

  “I’m not eating seaweed.”

  “Well could you at least have something with vegetables in it?”

  Harrison laughed as he grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the jar. “I love you too, Mom.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” She placed a folded shirt on Sam’s pile and grimaced as he ate the cookie in one bite. “How did I get such a charming son?”

  He brushed the crumbs from his lips and walked past her with a cheeky grin.

  “Stop.”

  No way. She couldn’t have seen…

  “Turn.”

  He knew that tone. Keeping his expression bland, he turned. His mother’s eyes narrowed and she tipped her head.

  “What’s that look in your eyes?”

  “What look?”

  “That one you get when you’ve seen something you want and are coming up with a plan of attack.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her eyes narrowed further. He was done for.

  “Do you like one of the girls you’re going to the movies with tonight?”

  “Nope.”

  She leaned toward him.

  “You like someone.”

  He looked at the floor.

  “Harrison Nathan Granger.”

  “It’s no big deal, Mom.”

  “This isn’t going to be another Amy incident, is it?”

  He tipped back his head and rolled his eyes. “Mom, I was a lovesick romantic when she dumped me, of course I was going to react badly.”

>   “I haven’t seen this look on your face for a long time. Don’t forget I know you better than you think.”

  He shook his head. “Amy never would have broken it off if we hadn’t been moving for the millionth time that year.”

  “Hey…”

  “Anyway, if you’re serious about staying here until after I graduate, that gives me a year and a half to have a little fun, so what’s the big deal?”

  His mother tipped her head and gave him a soft smile. “That’s not your style, baby. You’re always all or nothing.”

  Harrison sniffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, it’s nothing, so don’t worry about it.”

  Helen’s face crinkled with a frown, her eyes storming with intensity. Harrison sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Mom, I know it’s like asking you not to breathe, but you can do it, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. I know—”

  “Mom! Justin’s cheating!”

  “I am not, you little brat!”

  Helen closed her eyes with a sigh. Harrison patted her shoulders and turned to leave.

  “Harrison.”

  He glanced back and felt his spine ripple with unease. There was that look. Her eyes were glassed over in memory and he wondered yet again if she was seeing his father.

  She never spoke of him.

  In the past, one look like that would have sent her into a week’s depression. They usually moved a month or so later. Harrison felt his insides hitch.

  “Mom! Justin, stop it!” Sam’s demand was followed by a sharp yelp.

  Helen’s eyes snapped back into focus. She cleared her throat and gave her son a shaky smile. “Don’t be late, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a wink followed by the grin that always made her smile. It worked.

  Chapter Three

  Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida - 2011 AD

  Gemma sprinted the last hundred meters and stopped in the sand by the wrought-iron gate leading to the pool area of her house. She checked her watch as she walked to the ocean’s edge and back, pulling in large gulps of air. Six-and-a-half minutes faster than yesterday.

  She didn’t want to admit why she had pushed herself so hard. Her father would go into a lengthy lecture if he knew how much her limbs were burning right now. If anyone had seen her tearing down the beach that fast, she’d be in big trouble. They weren’t supposed to show their true colors in public.

  Shaking out her arms, she rolled her neck and walked down the beach access pathway to the back of the house. The pool looked inviting, but she didn’t think her legs would cope with a swim. Her body had also adjusted to southern Florida’s heat and the idea of swimming in January now seemed ridiculous.

  She paused by one of the blue-and-white-striped loungers to stretch. Placing her left ankle on the back of the chair, she folded her body over her long leg and winced at the pull. Her hamstrings would be paying her back big time in the morning. She was such an idiot.

  Stupid Harrison Granger. He was ruining everything!

  She cut her stretching short, another insane decision, and headed for the glass doors leading into the games room. Grabbing a hand towel from the linen cupboard, she wiped her face and headed through the main entrance and up the stairs.

  She was happy before. She had resigned herself to this life, but now…

  Flinging her towel into the laundry hamper, she walked through her large closet and into the bathroom. With a huff, she sat on the lid of the toilet to undo her shoelaces.

  “Ugh, Gemma, you stink.”

  Her older sister, Ruby, came through the doorway of her own walk-in closet, her delicate nose scrunched in disgust.

  “I’m just about to take a shower.”

  “Wait until I’ve finished my hair.”

  Gemma leaned back against the cool tiles and watched Ruby pull out the hair dryer, styling her dark locks with precision. If people at school thought Gemma was pretty, they thought Ruby was stunning. The girl had model written all over her and she knew it.

  Her curvy frame was wedged into a pair of skintight jeans and a purple top with a plunging neckline. Her voluptuous breasts were pushed together by a lacy purple bra that could just be detected through the fine fabric of her shirt.

  Looking at Ruby dressed that way made Gemma all too aware of her non-existent breasts. She had always loved being small chested, it was easier for training, but every now and then she wished for some shape. She could never look sexy.

  “Hot date tonight?”

  Ruby wrapped the cord back around the hair dryer and grinned. “You need to ask?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Marcus Wright. You know, the tall blond with longish hair and muscly arms.”

  Gemma could picture him strutting the hallways like a peacock. He was an egotistical, second-string quarterback with the annoying habit of pointing and winking at the pretty girls. Ruby would make a meal of him.

  “So, what are you telling Mom?”

  “That I’m out with Jenny and the girls.”

  Gemma bent her head to hide the cringe. She had never been able to lie to her parents the way Ruby and Dom did. They’d made an art form of straight-in-the-face fallacies. They always looked so innocent and sincere too. Gemma sometimes hated them for it, but the feeling never lasted. She didn’t want to be a liar, which is why she sucked so badly at it.

  “What are you doing?” Ruby fiddled with her bangs until each hair stood exactly where it was supposed to.

  “Not sure. Are Mom and Dad home?”

  “Mom got back from the lab an hour ago and Dad’s due home at seven.”

  “In that case, I might go to the movies.”

  “By yourself again?” Ruby frowned. “Gemmy, how are we even related?”

  She bit the corner of her lip as Ruby opened her make up drawer and pulled out various products. So much for taking a shower.

  Dominic’s large form appeared in the doorway. Unlike Ruby, he was still wearing the same clothes he’d been slouching in all day.

  “Rubes, I just spoke to Marcus. We’re doubling.”

  “What? No we’re not!”

  “It’s the only way I could get Angie to say yes, okay?” He walked into the room and checked his hair in the mirror. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, we’ll split after dinner. I need some time to turn that shy little redhead into the woman she was born to be.”

  “Oh puke.” Ruby snapped her foundation closed and dropped it in the drawer. “I hate to break it to you, Dom baby, but you’re not that much of a stallion.”

  “You’d like to think that.”

  “Whatever.”

  Gemma watched from her perch on the toilet, grinning broadly. Her mother always said the twins had been squabbling since having to share a womb. Ruby had nothing on Dom’s size, but she was feisty, which made for an even match.

  What people would never know is the lengths the twins would go to for each other. Secretly, they were each other’s best friends.

  “Hey, slim.” Dom knuckled the top of her head.

  She flicked his hand off and punched him lightly in the stomach. He blocked her blow with a laugh and knuckled her hair again. She smoothed it back with a dignified smile.

  “How was the run?”

  “Faster than yesterday.”

  “Nice.” Dom smiled. “Ask Ruby how her run went?”

  “Shut up. I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

  “Don’t we have training with Dad tomorrow?”

  “Oh crap!” Ruby shoved the brush back into her mascara. “I forgot. Can you guys just tell Dad I ran anyway, please?”

  “What was your time?” Dom folded his arms at Ruby’s black look. “You know he’ll ask.”

  “Just make it three minutes slower than Gemma’s.”

  Dom looked at his little sister.

  “I actually ran nineteen minutes today.”

  “For f
ive miles?” His eyes bulged. “Who was chasing you?”

  “I pushed too hard.” She bit her lip. “Dad’ll be annoyed.”

  “Okay, fine.” Ruby turned to face them both. “Dom, you ran your usual twenty-four, I was twenty-seven, and golden girl over there can be twenty-three. Everybody happy?”

  Dom looked a little miffed, but he couldn’t deny that Gemma was now beating him regularly. She squashed the pride that rose in her chest then bit her lip.

  “It’s only a baby lie, slim. You can do it.”

  She cleared her throat. “You know I suck at lying.”

  “That’s just because you don’t try hard enough.” Ruby stretched her lips wide to apply her lip pencil.

  Gemma huffed and Dom placed his hand on her shoulder. “Once you know the tricks of the trade it gets easier. You just have to practice.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  “Gem, sweetie.” Ruby opened her lipstick tube. “The only way to survive in this family is to learn the art of falsehood. Think of it as acting. We’re just playing the role of normal teenagers.”

  “But we’re not normal.”

  “Well we can at least try to be!”

  Gemma looked away as Ruby’s eyes flashed down at her. “Anyway, that rule doesn’t apply to Mom and Dad. You shouldn’t be lying to them.”

  “If we didn’t lie we’d be as friendless as you. Mom and Dad’s expectations are unrealistic. No dating until college? Seriously?” Closing her makeup drawer, Ruby turned her face from side to side, admiring the reflection.

  “Ignore Ruby. If you’re happy how you are, Gem, stay that way. We all do what we do to survive.”

  He gave her knee a quick horse bite and left.

  Gemma rubbed her knee and looked back at Ruby.

  “You look really pretty.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Appeased, Ruby shone her a bright smile and headed out the door.

  Gemma listened to it click behind her sister before rising from her seat and turning on the shower. Since she wasn’t meeting anyone, she had the luxury of having the longest shower in the world. Her indulgent smile faltered as the previous thought reentered her brain. She wasn’t meeting anyone. She was never meeting anyone.

  Thanks to her porcupine behavior at school, no one dared approach her; even Dom and Ruby had stopped inviting her to their senior soirées. The only person who smiled at her in school was Mr. Lomax. The guy was in his late forties.