Page 35 of Twins for the Enemy

She grabs my hand, wrapping hers around it—warm and soft.

“Again,” she says. “Your hands are freezing. Were you playing in the snow?”

“Something like that.”

Her thumbs start to rub against the back of my hand. It’s a strange sensation, being tended to. It’s a little less strange that her movements strike a different heat in me.

“It feels like you’re on the brink of frostbite. What were you doing?” she asks.

“Shoveling snow.”

“Don’t you pay that kid to do your yard work?”

“He’s almost the same age as you,” I say. “If he’s a kid, you’re a kid.”

“Still, I know he likes doing the job. He’ll be disappointed when he shows up.”

“He can still do the front. I only did the back.”

“The back?” she asks. “You never go back there.”

“But you do.”

Her thumbs stop rubbing my hand.

“You shoveled for me?” she asks. “That’s… surprising. I mean, thank you.”

“It wasn’t just for you,” I say. “The ground will dry up faster on that path, so if the staff or I need to walk out there, we don’t need to deal with the mud. The creek will probably overflow when the snow melts; it may be necessary to have easy access to it.”

She raises an eyebrow. She starts to rub my hand again, making smaller circles with her thumbs now. It’s relaxing, which feels oddlythreatening.

She’s wearing one of my button-up shirts, a dark blue one, with a pair of black sweatpants. On anyone else, it’d look like someone who didn’t care enough to find clothes that fit them and didn’t care how they looked, but on her, it’s addictive. It hides her figure, but it only makes me more curious about how easy they’d be to slip off of her. She looks so small in my clothes, that it triggers a protectiveness in me that makes me want to pull her closer, but pulling her closer will lead me to much less respectable thoughts.

She takes my other hand. She brings it up to her face, blowing a warm exhale against my skin. I could twist my hand around. I could yank her closer. I could get the elastic of those sweatpants down, push myself between her thighs, and fuck her like the room is on fire and I need to use our remaining oxygen to burn with her.

At the very least, Ellie would get her revenge, and all the unwanted thoughts I have of her would die with us.

But I could never do that to her. Despite everything she’s fucked up, I still can’t imagine a world where she wasn’t alive. It doesn’t help that she’s carrying my twins.

This is why I’ll never be able to fuck another woman. I fucked this one and now I’m in a constant state of fucked-up conflict.

I pull my hand away from her and stand up slowly. “Go have breakfast or go back to sleep.”

She leans back on her elbows, glaring up at me. “Why do you feel the need to always boss me around? Don’t you do enough of that at your job?”

“You need an authority figure,” I say. “That should be clear from how your life turned out.”

“My father was very good at ordering me around and I don’t need another version of him.” Her scowl slowly fades as she stares at my feet. I’m still wearing the waterproof shoes, droplets clinging onto the material. “I’d be able to sleep better if I had something to do during the day. I need to keep my brain busy.”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask. “A crossword book?”

She considers me, tilting her head. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulder, looking soft enough that it needs to be roughed up.

“Rock climbing,” she says. I stare at her.

“There is zero possible way I am going to let you rock climb,” I say. “You may have forgotten, but you’re pregnant.”

She shrugs. “That’s what I want.”

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