Chapter Six

“Soooo… how was it?!” Brandt’s voice was a singsong as he yelled from the kitchen when Lucy closed the front door a while later.

Lucy flopped down on the couch and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain beginning, well, everywhere. “Okay, not that you called him to warn him about me. Why didn’t you just pin a note to my coat like a kindergartener?!” she yelled over her shoulder.

“Ooh, I should have thought of that,” Brandt said, coming into the room and flopping down beside her, nudging her playfully in the ribs. “What did you think of Spencer? Hot, right?”

Lucy nodded and couldn’t help grinning. “Hot for sure. But not all pretty and fake, just… hubba.”

“Right?!” Brandt exclaimed. “How is he as a trainer? Or were you just completely unable to concentrate with the hotness floating around?”

“He’s… he’s really nice. I thought he would be more intimidating, but he was actually pretty encouraging, which was nice. I mean, I hated every minute of the workout – don’t get me wrong – but at least I did what he told me to do without embarrassing myself too much,” Lucy said, and Brandt smiled.

“See, I knew he would be perfect to get you going again!” Brandt said with a smile. “I’m really proud of you, Luce. Now you just have to stick with it, and maybe you can share some tips with me so I can keep up this godlike bod of my own.”

Lucy laughed. “It’s a deal, if you can help keep me on the straight and narrow on my way to… what? Goddessness?”

“I’ll do my best, my goddess,” Brandt said. “In fact, I made dinner in celebration of your ‘transformation’.”

“Yeah, what is it?” Lucy asked, sniffing the air surreptitiously for kitchen smells.

“Chicken breasts and broccoli, all free of butter or oil. Super healthy!” Brandt said, getting up and heading back to the kitchen.

“Um, yay?” Lucy said, her voice flat. It was going to take some doing to get excited about that – but she was willing to try.

**

“So what’s for dinner?” Spencer asked, dropping his keys on the console table by the front door and strolling into the family room of the still-new-to-him home.

“Chicken breasts and broccoli, and a salad on the side,” a voice said from the kitchen. “Surprise, surprise, Mr. Lean Protein and Vegetables.”

Spencer grinned at the sardonic tone of voice and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a carrot stick that was waiting to be chopped into the salad and biting into it hungrily. “How was your day, dear?”

“Shut up,” the voice retorted from the stove before spinning around to high five Spencer before resuming his cooking duties.

Sullivan Jackson was an absolute carbon copy of his twin brother – tall, blond, well muscled and well meaning. The only difference were the rimless glasses he often wore while sitting at his computer and a small chicken pox scar on his neck from when they were both sick for a week in the fifth grade.

For as long as anyone could remember, Sullivan and Spencer Jackson had been a matched set – always inseparable, always getting along with each other.

That’s not to say there weren’t a few knock down, drag out fights along the way, but even at thirty-two, the twins found themselves happy in the other’s company.

Not to mention, Sullivan thought wryly, Spencer would starve without Sullivan to cook for him, and Sullivan would atrophy behind a computer without Spencer to drag him to the gym every single morning of his life.

Sometimes they were dysfunctional, but it worked.

Plus, it took both their salaries to afford this place with the spectacular view – even with the inheritance. If Sullivan were being totally honest, he paid more on the mortgage with his computer wizardry than Spencer did with his iron pumping, but those were just details.

“Bad day?” Spencer asked, pouring himself a glass of water and sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Got stuck on an algorithm for half the day,” Sullivan muttered, beginning to plate their meals. “Sucked up a bunch of time, but I finally got it, which was good; I really wanted to get to the library before it closed.”

“Nerd.”

Sullivan smacked Spencer upside the head teasingly as he set the plates down on the table. “Yes, because reading and knowledge are such a drag in today’s day and age of Candy Crush Saga and Survivor.”

“You know what Candy Crush is?” Spencer deadpanned, then grinned.

“Seriously, what’s the last book you read that I didn’t force you to read?” Sullivan asked, digging into his broccoli.

Spencer thought for a moment. “Does Harry Potter count?”

Sullivan sighed and bit back a smile. Just like so many sets of identical twins, they may look the same on the outside, but were wired completely differently on the inside. Spencer was all about working out, tinkering with cars and motorcycles, dating loads of women, and finding the fun in everything he did – which generally weren’t the most cerebral of activities at best.

Sullivan, on the other hand, was the bookish, do your homework right after school, work hard type. He wasn’t very adept with engines, but he could make a computer scream, and he devoured books the way Spencer devoured Red Bull. Whereas Spencer always wanted a bevy of worshipping women, Sullivan was always the monogamous, looking for true love kinda guy.

Sure, Spencer had mellowed with women, and sure, Sullivan thought he’d found true love when he hadn’t, but fundamentally, they were still ying to the other’s yang.

It’s what made them work as brothers and roommates without absolutely killing each other.

Except for those mornings when Spencer dragged his twin out of bed to work out or go for a run when Sullivan wanted nothing more than thirty more minutes of sleep and a cup of coffee.

Those days had the potential for fratricide.

So, Spencer forced Sullivan to work out daily, and Sullivan forced Spencer to read a book every once in a while, then quizzed him on the plot to make sure he’d read the whole thing.

“Didn’t you have a new client today?” Sullivan asked and Spencer nodded, his mouth full of chicken.

He swallowed, took a sip of water, and then leaned back in his chair. “Lucy. I think she’s going to be great to work with. Total negative self speak and doesn’t think she can do anything, but I’m going to prove her wrong. She’s pretty mellow, but I can tell there’s a story there that she hasn’t told me yet. I’m guessing it’s tied to her weight gain. Maybe as she loses those fears and get going, she’ll open up.”

“Older? Younger?” Sullivan prompted.

“Younger – I’d say around our age, maybe. She’s roommates with Brandt.”

“Real estate agent Brandt?”

“The same,” Spencer agreed. “I know you never met him during the house hunting thing, but he’s really nice, so if Lucy is his bestie, she must be good people.”

“What else do you know about her?”

“Not much. Didn’t get into her family, don’t know if there’s a husband or kids; about all I know is that she’s a massage therapist and she has to climb Kilimanjaro.”

“Has to?”

“Something about a wedding at the peak for her brother,” Spencer filled in.

“Weird,” Sullivan said. “And yet, oddly kinda cool. That would make the wedding day memorable, and seriously cut down on the guest list. And probably wouldn’t include crappy catered hotel food.”

“Is that why you guys broke it off?” Spencer teased lightly. “Unmanageable guest list and an aversion to dried out pork chops?”

Sullivan sighed into his salad. “You know why. Better than anyone.”

Spencer cleared his throat, then his dishes, taking them to the sink to avoid his twin’s gaze.

“Anyway, I think Lucy will be a keeper – if she comes back tomorrow.”

“Did you have to do the buyer’s remorse stalking today?” Sullivan asked.

“Yup. Scared the crap out of her when I knocked on her car window,” Spencer said with a grin, clearing the rest of the table.

Sullivan shook his head with a wry smile. “Gee, why don’t you go all super stalker like and bang on her bedroom window tomorrow when it’s time for her appointment?”

“Nah. I don’t do that until they miss two sessions, not just one,” Spencer teased.

“What’s the plan for the second session, then?”

“Tail them in my car until they go to the warehouse,” Spencer said. “And I use the Jedi mind trick on them if that doesn’t work.”

“This is the gym you’re looking for?” Sullivan said, imitating the famous voice of Sir Alec Guinness.

“Exactly!” Spencer laughed.

“Well, no one can say you aren’t dedicated to your Total Body Solution,” Sullivan said mockingly, and Spencer laughed again.

“Yeah, about my gym name. I think Lucy has renamed the club…”

“Thank god. I like the girl already,” Sullivan said over his shoulder, retreating to his bedroom and his computer, quiet and stacks of books.

7396/50000