“Who hasn’t is the real question.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I do that too. That’s very true.” I wondered if I should find him a bag, in case he actually was going to upchuck.
“You just made me excited for when Caden and Colton finally show up. I thought I was nervous about seeing them, but no. It’s you. My nerves can’t handle you.”
I had another joke ready and was about to let it fly when I looked across the parking lot. The words died in my throat.
Caden and a guy that had Marcus’ face and Marcus’ height—close to six feet—walked toward us. Colton’s brown hair was lighter and longer than Marcus’, the ends framing his face in a wispish manner. As they approached I could also see that their eyes were a little different. Colton’s had slight hints of amber in them, like Caden’s. Marcus’ mirrored his hair color, a dark mocha.
My nerves came back in an instant. My hands shook, so I smoothed them down my pants.
Marcus straightened and looked over his shoulder. He took a step toward them.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the Land Rover. I had no words. For once.
“Hey, man.” Marcus held a hand out.
His lookalike looked at that, lifted the corner of his mouth in a crooked grin, and grabbed Marcus’ hand. He jerked him forward. “What the fuck is that? You hug a brother. You don’t shake hands.” He wrapped his arms around Marcus. After a second, Marcus lifted his arms and hugged him back.
When they stepped back, Colton kept a hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Marcus bobbed his head up and down, grabbing a fistful of Colton’s shirt. He rested his hand on his shoulder and tugged him back in for a second hug.
Caden stayed back, watching the exchange. His eyes found mine, and I saw the same strain from before, but some of it had lifted. After his brothers separated a second time, he held up a closed fist. “What are you doing here, man?”
Marcus met it with his own fist. “Stepping up.”
Colton grinned from ear to ear. “About damned time. Now that Caden’s settling down, I’m going to need you to take me out. I need a girlfriend too.”
Caden laughed. “I think Avery’s got some friends. Right, Marcus?”
“Avery?” Colton looked between his brothers. “Who’s Avery? Is she the girl from before?”
Marcus stiffened. “That was Maggie.”
“Avery was before her.”
“And she’s back again? Damn. I really do need to hang out with you more.” Then Colton turned to me and held his hand out. “You gotta be Summer.”
I couldn’t do anything.
I saw the pain, the sadness, and the storm in his eyes. I could see into him. He wasn’t just Marcus’ lookalike. He was Caden too. He had Caden’s eyes. He was so much like Caden, it took my breath away. Then I saw an undercurrent of strength, a determination to keep going, and more. I couldn’t put my finger on everything, but suddenly, and so completely, I was awed.
My voice came out a hoarse squeak. “Hi.”
His hand reached for mine, and a warm smile spread over his face. “I’m Colton.”
Colton was amazing.
He laughed. He teased. He interrogated me with a wink and wiggling eyebrows. He gave Marcus shit—extra points for that one—and he worshiped Caden. And he was who he was.
We stopped at an outdoor restaurant, and when he sat down, his shirt rode up, exposing more than a normal share of scars. He reached for his sleeve, like he was going to pull it back down, but saw my gaze.
He let it go and instead laid his arm out over the table and turned it over so I could see it better. He pointed to a scar that ran the entire length of his arm. “This is the one people think is the SA.”
“SA?”
“Suicide attempt.”
He said it casually, and a shiver wound down my spine, but I shoved that away. If he could handle it, I’d be damned if I’d be the one who squirmed.
“It wasn’t that?”
“Nah.” He pulled his sleeve down now and propped his elbows on the table. Then he nodded toward the line. “You guys go order. Summer and I can talk like good little boys and girls.”
Caden stood, squeezing my hand once under the table, and headed off without a word. Marcus remained behind, his hesitation obvious.
“Go, douch—” Colton started.
I cut in, “I’m going to start rhyming, Marcus.”
He groaned, but nodded. Rapping his knuckles on the table, he stood and pointed at me. “Don’t start. I’m going to be dreaming that shit.”
I winked at him as he went around the table. “You calling me a nightmare?”
I heard his laugh before he was past two more tables and out of earshot.
Colton gazed at his twin with his head tilted to the side. A soft smile accompanied his soft words, “He likes you.”
“I’m a rhyming genie. I can work some magic.”
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes still thoughtful and eerily somber. “Marcus respects you. I can tell. That’s impressive. I’ve never seen it before.”
I scoffed. “Oh, come on. I’m sure he respects lots of things.”
“No—”
“Hooters. Porn. Wet T-shirt contests.”
Colton laughed.
“Christmas presents. Shoes. Jock itch. A future dog he might have. Morning sex.” I waved at him. “I could keep going all day.”