Page 86 of Sinful Like Us

She’s still healthy.

After we said our goodbyes and I hung up, Jane looked more curiously at me. “Has she crocheted your past girlfriends baby blankets?”

“Hell no.”

“Oh.”

I didn’t expect that reaction.

My pulse ratcheted up. “She likes you.”She can tell I love you.

“I like her a great deal too,” Jane whispered, but her brows bunched in concern. “What if…” Flush stained her freckled cheeks. “What if you dislike me in six or seven months and we break-up? Or possibly we might just mutually feel we’re not a perfect fit? These are rational probabilities.” She spoke in a single breath.

I realized then that Jane believes there’s a greater chance of us being a short-term couple than a permanent one.

“How is it rational that I’ll dislike you in six months when I love you now?” I asked point-blank.

She smiled, then frowned, then winced. “Anything could happen…I suppose.”

I nodded stiffly.

I can’t see the future any better than she can. Mathematically maybe that shit adds up in that direction, but we’re dealing with emotion.

Unwieldy, un-fucking-quantifiable,frighteningemotion—and I just want to behersafety net. I want her to feel like she can fall into these feelings, and I’ll catch her.

“Look, there’s no pressure,” I said strongly. “The blanket is just a gift, not a binding agreement.”

“It’s not to say that I wouldn’t…I mean, I…” She buried her face in her palms, and I sat on the bed beside her and drew her to my chest. I hugged Jane, and she mumbled against my body, “This is all so…”

“Soon,” I finished.

She looked up at me. “I was going to saynew.”

“Right.” My muscles tensed. Unsure of where her fears exactly stemmed.

She felt me flex, and she swallowed hard. And then Carpenter stole our attention as he knocked perfume off her vanity. We dropped the topic after that.

I hadn’t thought much about Jane being pregnant. I hadn’t thought a lot about marriage or our children—and I shouldn’t be remembering any of this now.

We need to crawl through the first round of barbed wire before we can contemplate what lies ahead of us.

The cards, this twin switch, andTony.If we can haul through this together, then maybe that door will open.

On the plane, Beckett stalls near the bathroom door. Not ready to return to his seat yet, and while I wait for him to move, my radio crackles with static.

Donnelly whispers on comms. “The Rooster has chosen his flock. I repeat, the Rooster has chosen his flock.”

I regret staying on the SFO line.

For the trip, we all agreed to be on the same channel as Tony and O’Malley, and I planned to switch over once we land. Listening to Tony’s voice is about as high on my priority list as chewing a bag of nails.

“He can’t be serious,” Oscar responds.

I scan my surroundings, and I zero in on a blue-blazer-wearing, gold-brick-shitting rich white guy: the Rooster (aka Will Rochester). He’s prep-school manufactured, birthed and raised in WASP society. Even his teeth look expensive.

He laughs with Tony and O’Malley at a four-person table.

Will might be Sulli’s new boyfriend, but he was the one person Jane and I were hesitant to share intel about the twin swap with. Now that he’sbest friendswith Tony, I’m glad we told him nothing.