Page 119 of Just the Wrong Twin

* * *

They gotto Nate’s mom’s place in thirty-five minutes, but to Nate’s surprise, there was a red Jeep Renegade parked at the curb. Troll pulled into the driveway. Nate had to assume that whoever owned the Jeep was visiting a neighbor, but took a look. His mom waved from the living room window, then came to the door.

“You must be Simon,” she said warmly. “Won’t you please come in?”

“I have to thank you, Mrs. Buchanan, for the dinner invitation,” Troll said, suddenly loquacious. “I didn’t expect that, much less pot roast.”

“I just had a feeling today,” Nate’s mom said. “I thought I could freeze portions for quick meals, but this is much better.”

“Thank you again, Mrs. Buchanan. It smells great.”

“Please call me Bev. And you boys need a good hot dinner before that long drive.”

Nate shook his head at the way the two of them had already hit it off, and was thinking he should tell Troll to talk a bit more. That might improve the former SEAL’s social life.

“Nate Buchanan!”

Nate stopped on the path and glanced back, very certain that he recognized that female voice. He caught a glimpse of his mom at the window, watching with obvious expectation. Troll had taken off his sunglasses to look, but didn’t seem to understand what he was going to witness.

Diane had arranged this.

The only reason was why.

And why now?

Nate turned slowly, not really surprised to see Trish on the sidewalk. She was as pretty as ever, her dark curly hair a little shorter, her figure a little curvier. He swallowed, noticing that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat. It didn’t even make a lunge for his throat. He felt calm, as if he was confronting a stranger.

“Hi Nate!” she said warmly, her tone the complete opposite of the last time they’d talked. She obviously was intent on talking to him.

Might as well get this done.

“Patricia Hargreaves,” he said, slowly walking back toward the driveway. “How are you?” His mom’s gaze bored into his back. Diane must have requested a report.

“I’m great,” Trish said with familiar enthusiasm. “How areyou?”

She walked closer with obvious anticipation. He saw that her eyes were still that cat-bright green, that her smile was just as wide. He didn’t feel the urge to smile back, though.

It wasn’t entirely petty that Nate offered his hand to shake, since his right arm had the Hook.

She flicked the barest glance at the prosthesis, then smiled and closed in for a kiss. “Oh really, we’re beyond shaking hands, even after all this time.” She had to stretch to her toes to land a kiss on his chin but, unlike old times, Nate didn’t bend down to help her out. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t hurt.

He just wondered why she had turned up.

And he wished she would leave, preferably for good. They had nothing to say to each other, in his view.

Maybe he could ensure that.

“You look great,” she said, as if trying to convince herself. She prodded his chest with a fingertip and laughed a little. “As fit as ever.”

“What are you doing here?” Nate asked.

Her gaze flicked, but her smile never wavered.

“It was Diane, wasn’t it?” he guessed.

Trish exhaled and glared at him a bit. “She said you’d be here. She said you missed me.”

“Sorry, but she was wrong.” He forced a smile. “Take care, Trish.”