Page 27 of Just the Wrong Twin

He should have been out the door, but as was so often the case with Sonia, Nate was conflicted. He wanted to leave to keep from building false expectations. But she so clearly wanted him to stay that he’d feel like a jerk walking out the door.

And he was starving.

He’d call it the Sonia Effect, a sign of her ability to tangle him up.

Sonia opened the box, as if she knew she could change his mind. She started to unpack the contents on the island, lining them up. “It’s so well planned. It’s insulated with freezer packs and everything.”

“It wouldn’t be very celebratory for Reid to give all the wedding guests food poisoning.” Nate was intrigued despite himself.

“No, it wouldn’t. It looks good. Look. Fresh rosemary.” She wagged a thin plastic bag with green stuff inside.

“Let me guess. It’s chicken.”

Her smile was mischievous. “Itwasa wedding.” She pulled out a package and looked mystified by it. Nate had no clue what it was either. “Phyllo pastry,” she read then took out another package. “Chanterelles.” They were kind of orange and looked like mushrooms. Nate was starting to salivate. Sonia had a recipe card with a picture on it, which she waved at him. “This looks like it’s going to be fancy chicken.” She gave him a look. “Or are you going to faint of hunger while you’re driving and I’m having California Chicken Pot Pie?”

Nate’s stomach growled right on cue. “You’re killing me,” he said.

Her smile was serene. “Am I? What if Pierce asks whether you liked the meal kit?”

“You’re right. I can’t fool him.”

She raised a brow expectantly and he surrendered.

“All right!” He raised his hands. “I’ll get the other box.”

But the sweatpants were a hard no.

“Hurry! You should bring a change of clothes, too, maybe.”

Just like he was moving in. He’d lost the battle, but he wouldn’t lose the war. Nate left the apartment, unable to explain his buoyant mood—unless he considered the option of round three.

And the picture of the finished meal did look good.

He saw the two shadows in the gap under that door on the floor below and knew the nosy neighbor was watching. He whistled for her benefit and gave her door a wave, then continued down to his car.

Dinner, then he was out of here.

* * *

That had been close.

Sonia finished unpacking the meal kit, feeling as if she’d had another near escape. Nate had been visibly surprised that she had the sweatpants but to her relief, he hadn’t asked any questions. She shouldn’t have offered them, but she’d wanted him to stay—and cooking in such a great suit was an invitation to disaster. She totally understood that he wanted to dress down.

Her urge to help had nearly blown it all.

Nate buzzed from the street a few moments later and she let him in, then heard his footsteps on the stairs. She was already starting the preparations and had the video playing on her phone.

“It’s amazing,” she said as Nate put the second box on the counter.

“It might not be foolproof,” he replied. “Be warned that my lack of cooking skills is legendary.” He took off his suit jacket and set it aside, then headed into the washroom with his bag. When he came back a moment later, he’d changed to jeans and a black Henley, though Sonia could still see the white of his undershirt at the neck. He hung up his suit in a suit bag and looked around. She pointed to the bathroom door because there was a hook on the back of it. After he’d hung it up, he set his bag by the door and put his keys on top. Sonia understood that the next time he left, it would be for good.

“I’ll be in charge then,” she said, keeping her tone light. “You’ll have to follow orders. You said you’re good at that.”

“Bossy chicks are the best kind,” he teased. “At least that’s what my sister says.” He grinned in that lopsided way that made her heart go thump.

“So, it’s chicken in a gravy, that gets baked with pastry on top,” she said. “With a salad on the side. It looks a bit challenging to make.”

“Huh. You’d think it would be no-fail.”

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