Page 111 of The Love Rematch
Sam narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“For a week in paradise.”
“Huh?”
Emily grabs her sister’s hand and pulls her in front of a mirror. A single face stares back. Auburn hair. Golden eyes. Heart-shaped bone structure. Cheeks covered in freckles. Perfectly identical. Two of the same. Shared since birth. The only difference at the moment is the wicked grin on one, and the sullen grimace on the other.
“Repeat after me,” Emily says and Sam sighs. “My name is Emily Ann Peters, and you’re not my perfect match.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
jake
The phone ringsand Jake practically flies out of the dinky hotel bed. “Hello? Em? Hello?”
“Mr. Moore? This is the front desk. There’s a Miss Samantha Peters here asking for your room number. Do we have your permission to—”
“Yes,” he interjects. “Let her up.”
Three minutes later there’s a knock on the door. Jake flings it open.
“Sam, what—”
He stops cold, tilts his head to the side, and grins.
“You’re not Sam.”
The topknot, pencil skirt, and makeup might have fooled his colleagues, but Jake knows Emily when he sees her. She’s written in his soul. It’s a visceral reaction, the way his body heats, his heart races, and his blood rushes to one very specific spot.
Yet instead of throwing herself into his arms, she does the most Samantha thing imaginable. She puts both her palms to his chest and shoves as hard as she can.
He stumbles back, doubting for a second.
Until she shrieks, “You left a note?”
“Yes…?” He holds his hands up innocently.
She shoves him again. “A note!”
“What else was I supposed to leave? Nothing?”
“No,” she snaps and gears up to shove him again, but he dances out of her reach. “You weren’t supposed to leave at all!”
“Em.”
“Don’tEmme.”
He finds refuge behind a chair and stares at her pointedly. “I had to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because, this show is the opportunity of a lifetime for you, and I wasn’t going to fuck up your dreams again. I didn’t want to force your hand. I explained all this—in the note!”
“Jake.”
She sighs. The golden fury in her eyes cools just enough for him to see the hurt and fear beneath it. Everything suddenly becomes clear.
His voice is hoarse when he softly murmurs, “You didn’t get it, did you?”
