Chapter One
“You, Amanda Perkins, are the woman of my dreams.”
Amanda whirled around and found herself face to face with two glittering green eyes, two perfect dimples, and the world’s most devilish grin. It didn’t matter what her brain said—her body was already melting. Those were the words she longed to hear. And Luke Miller was saying them—right now—to her.
Then she gave herself a sharp mental kick with her Doc Martens. Get a hold of yourself.
“I am not. Stop being an asshole,” she said crossly, swatting his hand away as he tried to steal another potato wedge off the grill. The potatoes were rubbed with olive oil and her secret patented spice rub. They were going to be perfect, but not if he ate them all first.
“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” he tried again.
“Flattery will get you everything,” she said, and he inhaled like he was about to lay it on even thicker until she glared at him and added, “Except these.”
She thought that would be the end of it. After all, he’d had three years to make his move. Three years of late nights testing video game designs and Saturdays fixing code. Three years of whiskey glasses and takeout Chinese containers littering their desks, talking until long after the last script had run and they could have gone their separate ways.
But tonight he came up behind her, put his hands on her hips, and pressed into her, tilting his head toward her ear.
“Um,” she stammered. This wasn’t what they usually did at work. Or ever.
“Flattery will get me everything I want,” he whispered.
Holy. Moly. She felt his breath on the side of her neck, the strength of his body against hers. She leaned into him, unable to hold out any longer.
They were alone on the patio of the rental house, and she realized with sudden, shocking certainty that this was it. All the nights she’d spent agonizing over when it was going to happen—if it was going to happen—and she had her answer. Her first kiss with Luke Miller was going to be right here, right now, three years after they’d started working together and six weeks before he moved to L.A.
Hadn’t she felt things changing between them? At the office, he’d reach over to type something on her keyboard and let their fingers brush. Or he’d call for no reason, just to ask how she was. It had started the night he’d taken her out to dinner to tell her his twin brother Noah was moving to L.A., and he was going with him. Maybe, as he’d watched her valiantly try not to sob into her spaghetti, he’d finally realized what he was going to miss.
He was going to press his lips to her neck, her ear, and—
He snatched another potato off the grill, flashing her a deliciously maddening “I’m too sexy to care” grin. She stumbled as he pulled away.
That bastard. How dare he play dirty to distract her?
“Help yourself,” she said with forced cheerfulness, trying to act like this whole game was as hi-fucking-larious as he thought it was. “No need to leave enough dinner for the rest of us.”
That smirk again. “You in an apron,” he teased. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. But it was too late to come up with a smart-ass retort. The screen door opened, and Luke had already turned away.
“Hey, Noah!” he said, crossing the patio. “Give me one of those.”
Luke’s brother stepped outside carrying two beers. Typical.
“Thanks for bringing me one,” she called.
“The fridge is right inside.” Noah barely even looked at her as he took a swig. “Need someone to draw you a map?”
“You said, Thanks, Amanda, for finding this great Airbnb for us and then slaving over the grill so we can all enjoy a nice dinner tonight, wrong.”
“Thanks, Amanda, for taking over the grill so no one else has a say in what we’re eating or how to make it.”
“Okay, okay,” Luke stepped in, holding up his hands. “Let’s play a game for the rest of the weekend. It’s called how long can we go without killing each other.”
“Does the winner get a beer?” Amanda said, looking over Luke’s shoulder to glare at the more selfish twin.
“Here,” Luke said. “Share mine.”
He passed her his drink. Her heart fluttered up in her throat as she pressed her lips to the bottle, right where his had just been. It was so normal, so natural the way he took it from her then passed it back. Like a couple. She could feel how different this was.
Except lately, she had to admit her gut-o-meter had been completely off. The last guy she’d dated, Gregg, had been three great months and then…nothing. She’d left his place one morning and never heard from him again.
It wasn’t like things had been serious. She hadn’t been picking out wedding china or planning their first dance. But it hurt like hell to be ghosted. Not a single response to her multitude of texts.
If she’d so misread the signs with someone she’d slept with, what about when it came to someone she hadn’t so much as kissed?
But Luke wasn’t acting like Mr. Innocent, that was for sure. Even when Noah wandered back inside, Luke flashed her a wink before he turned and followed.
Is tonight the night? It wasn’t going to happen with Noah around, that was for sure. Or their other friends. But that didn’t mean it was impossible.
For a second, she let herself imagine it. After everyone was sleeping, they’d sneak out of their rooms like teenagers, meet in the cover of darkness. There, alone, they’d finally admit what they’d been too shy, too nervous, too close to each other to say before.
“I can’t move to L.A. without telling you I love you,” he’d whisper between stolen kisses. “In fact, I can’t move to L.A. at all. It was a mistake to tell Noah I’d go with him. Now that I know you love me, Amanda, I’ll stay here forever, and—”
“Does somebody smell burning?” Shouts from the house popped Amanda’s absurd little fantasy, and she jumped.
“Sorry!” she cried, pulling the buns off the grill.
“You’re incinerating dinner.” She’d thought she was free of Noah, but nope. He was striding briskly toward her, zero dimples on his unsmiling face.
“They’re charred,” she corrected. “Not burned.”
“They’re black.”
“Those are grill marks! That’s where the flavor is.”
He snorted right in her face. “Sure. If the flavor you’re going for is charcoal with a hint of shoe leather.”
“Hint of shoe leather sounds like a pretty good wine, actually.” She wagged her spatula at him. She wasn’t going to let him get to her. “Anyway, the burgers are fine. So back off.”
He flicked the spatula away. “A piece of friendly advice? Don’t quit your day job to run a vineyard. Or become a chef.”
Would it kill the man to ever say anything nice? Or actually do something helpful?
No. If everything didn’t go perfectly according to plan, Noah was the first to jump in and find fault, from the rooms in the house (too small) to the few stray clouds that morning (was it going to rain?), to the fact that, okay, fine, the burgers were getting kind of brown. She flipped them without daring to glance over. She didn’t want him thinking he was the one who’d saved the day.
She didn’t want to look at him at all.
Looking at him was like looking at Luke, with the same dark curls and vibrant green eyes. The same muscular shoulders, lean waist, and smooth, strong jaw. The only difference between the twins was that Luke had two dimples when he smiled and Noah had only one.
Luke was the one with twice as much heart. Twice as many smiles. Noah was all scowls and seriousness, but Luke knew how to have fun.
Luke came and stood between them, one arm draped over her shoulder. She’d think it meant something…but his other arm was draped just as casually on his brother.
“My two favorite people are getting along, right?” he asked.
“One of us still smells burning,” Noah grumbled.
“Then maybe he should step back from the grill,” Amanda said.
“Or maybe you should pay attention.”
“Now, children. What did I tell you?” Luke clapped them both on the back.
Amanda shot the twins a withering look. She couldn’t believe Noah’s ex-girlfriend, Kristina, had managed to stay with such a know-it-all for eight whole years. If only she hadn’t come to her senses and left him. Then Noah wouldn’t have freaked out, decided to uproot his whole life, and dragged Luke along with him.
“I’ve got it,” she said, flipping the burgers and piling the potato wedges on a platter. So they were a little crispy. At least she knew from Luke’s grabby hands that they tasted good.
Everyone piled around the dining room table to eat, talking and laughing and loading up their plates. She angled for a seat next to Luke but wound up stuck between Noah and Jorge. This was supposed to be a weekend away, but Jorge spent the whole meal peppering her with questions about the bugs they still had in their beta version of Brain Gobblers, their latest and most complicated zombie video game.
Noah barely glanced at her at all. She hoped he was feeling extra pissy from everyone complimenting the food.
In her pocket, her phone kept vibrating. When she glanced at it, there was a long string of texts from her friends asking how the weekend was going with Luke, starting with Talia saying, IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN, RIGHT??? in all caps. Jorge leaned over, and she shoved the phone in her pocket as fast as she could. “Is everything okay with your mom?” His dark brows knitted in concern.
“Yup!” she said quickly, plastering on a totally innocent, not-thinking-about-jumping-anyone smile. Jorge knew how often she got texts and calls about family emergencies. Or, more often, “emergencies.” He didn’t need to know these texts weren’t about her mom asking if the milk was expired or how to make the dryer alarm stop buzzing—all the things her mom constantly needed Amanda to do. She could only hope her face wasn’t too flushed.
Before long, they were all settled in the living room. Luke got a fire roaring in the fireplace, and Alix and Sasha made nightcaps for everyone. Amanda tried not to stare at the long lines of Luke’s body as he stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace. Or feel a pang that he hadn’t taken the empty seat next to her on the couch.
“You’re going to miss these getaways when you’re in L.A.,” she said, feeling the brandy warm her. “There’s nothing as pretty as fall around here.”
“I’m going to miss more than just the trees.” She swore he held her gaze for a moment too long as he said it.
“Yeah, don’t forget about crowded subway cars, nasty slush and snow, that classic New York pee smell…” Noah counted on his fingers.
“L.A. traffic,” Amanda said. “You’re going to love that.”
“Waiting for the Q train for twenty minutes while you wonder how long it’d take for the rats to eat you alive.”
“Twenty minutes.” Amanda imitated his low, grumpy voice. “I’m Noah, and I can’t wait twenty minutes for the train without dying.”
Luke roared with laughter.
“Hey!” Noah growled. “Whose side are you on?”
“The one that’s kicking your ass.”
She leaned over and slapped Luke a high five. She thought about the texts her friends were still sending. It needed to happen. Now.
After this weekend, she and Luke would go back to their regular lives in the city. Every second would be spent trying to finish Brain Gobblers before he moved. They’d never get another minute alone.
Luke. She zapped him brain waves from the couch. Let’s go outside. Let’s look at the stars.
“Man, I can’t believe how tired I am.” Luke stood and gave a giant yawn. “Must be all that fresh air fucking with my head.”
Everyone laughed. “I’m turning in, too,” Noah said, standing up alongside him. “We should get to bed if we’re going to get up for an early run tomorrow.”
Was he kidding? Only a truly masochistic, holier-than-thou asshole would go to bed this early on a night of vacation with friends in order to go running in the morning. The fact that he was a running coach only made it worse. Not only could he not take a day off from his precious fitness routine, but he couldn’t take a day off from working, period. The rest of them were trying to relax, but not Noah. If he ever removed that rod stuck up his ass, he’d probably fall over.
“Wimps,” she said. “The fire’s still going.” She got that the twins were close, but did they have to do everything together?
She pulled out her phone. Plot twist, she texted her friends. Should she follow Luke upstairs? But that would mean following both brothers, which would be…weird.
Not to mention the fact that Alix, Sasha, and Jorge were still downstairs, pouring her a second nightcap. She couldn’t very well dump it down the sink and run up after him now.
At the top of the landing, Luke turned. “Good night, guys,” he said.
Amanda looked at Alix and Sasha. “I didn’t realize only guys were here.”
Luke pretended to bow. “Good night, ladies,” he said, exaggerating the word and giving Amanda a wink. “And gentleman,” he added with a nod toward Jorge, who raised his glass.
Amanda knew he was just teasing. But there was something in the way he said, “Good night.” Not to the three of them on the couches, but to her.
She swallowed. And didn’t look away.
She didn’t blink until he finally turned and headed to his room. The last room at the end of the hall. The biggest one in the house.
Yes, she’d made a special note of it when they’d arrived and picked where they were sleeping. No, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night.
The end of the hall. Far from the others. Quiet. Set apart.
The way he’d just looked at her so pointedly. If they didn’t have a chance to sneak out tonight, alone…
Maybe it was time for a little bravery.
And an entirely new plan.