“I’m fine,” I manage, but I can’t seem to unstick from Jamie. My hands are clutching and I’m pixelating into fainting when Jamie’s steely voice brings me back up.

“Don’t you dare, Darcy.”

“Am I making the call?” Tom is holding up his phone. “Jamie, am I making it?” He’s desperate. I shake my head vigorously. Jamie shakes his head, too. He’s confident he’s more qualified than a paramedic.

“You’re too important,” Jamie tells me in a hush, like it’s our secret and not even Tom is supposed to hear it. “You’re way too important to me. Come on, now, just breathe and let that heart settle down.”

He’s giving me a hug that only he can give. I missed him so badly I’m shaking. Fucking hell. I tried so hard, but I’m his twin sister now, more than ever. Until one of us dies, we’re stuck with each other.

It’s a minute or two more before the palpitations begin to slow. Tom’s hands are on my shoulders, and I manage to cram my own personal whirlwind back into the lockbox in my chest. I try to push away from Jamie but fall backward into Tom.

“Congratulations on giving me a heart attack,” Jamie says, and that’s how I know I’m okay now. “We could have shared a cemetery plot to cut down costs.”

“Any room for me in there?” Tom’s voice says faintly above my head.

“Patty got out and ran away,” I say, and Tom’s arms hug tightly around my middle. I can feel the tension in his body, shivering out in palpable waves. “I thought she was gonna get squashed.”

“And this is exactly why I’m here. I knew it.” Jamie is furious. I’m certain we’re busted—I’m lying against Tom in a robe and his arms are around me. But then he adds, “She can’t chase a Chihuahua these days. Two weeks working here and she’s nearly dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Tom is cringing behind me like it’s his own personal doing. “She said she was okay—”

“She’s been lying.” Jamie takes my shoulders and pulls me away from Tom, setting us side by side like Barbie and Ken. “Look at her. I knew I had a bad feeling!” He walks a few paces to the car and then wheels back on us. “You are the only person I trust to take care of her. You’ve fucked up.”

My brother, when he’s angry? He’s sort of spectacular, in a blood-thickening, terror-inducing kind of way. He makes me want to get my camera, just to show him what he looks like.

Tom sighs but doesn’t deny it.

“He hasn’t fucked anything up. He just got here! My health is my own business.”

Jamie’s beyond exasperated. “You know that isn’t true. You’re our business. Go get some clothes on. What time do the guys get here? A robe and heels.” Another look at Tom, like that’s also his fault.

“Let’s all just relax,” Tom says in this tone he uses, the words and cadence always exactly the same. I don’t know why, but it always works on the Barrett twins; it has for all these years. We blow out matching angry breaths and then Jamie begins to laugh.

“I was nearly full owner of this house,” Jamie says with a grin. He’s relieved—but he’s also a jerk.

Tom gives him a dark look. “Are you really okay now, Darce?”

I pull at my shoe, which is sinking into the mud. “Yes, I just had a fright and it triggered me off. And yes, there’s room for you in our cemetery plot. Open invitation.”

“Gremlin, you’re gonna kill my sister,” Jamie tells Patty, and she stands on her hind legs and puts her muddy paws on his expensive trousers. He loves her secretly. He tickles behind her ear and her tongue lolls out. Then he remembers the pants. “Down.”

“You came all the way here because you had a feeling?”

“Yes, my twin senses were tingling. You’re right,” Jamie adds, and I really don’t think he’s ever said that to me. “Watching this happen through a window is no fun.”

I pull my robe tighter but wherever I tighten it, it loosens somewhere else. Thigh, neck, over and over. Tom’s correct. My clothes don’t want to be clothes. The memory of last night shocks through me, and we make proper eye contact for the first time.

Tom’s got ruffled hair, pink lips, and dilating pupils, giving him away. He looks like he’s been rolled around in bed by me. He looks like he’s been licked and kissed and brought to the brink by me, over and over, minutes melting into hours, gasping and groaning, please, please. Who even knows what I look like. Probably pretty much the same.

Tom’s attention is caught on my neck, then he stares up at the roofline with grim concentration.

“Come on, get dressed. I want to see the house.” Jamie goes to the car and takes out an overnight bag. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“You knew he was coming? What the hell, Tom.”

Tom picks up Patty. “I did tell you.” He’s so impossibly cool, given the circumstances. “I was up pretty late, checking on the water damage, and saw the message from Mr. Impulsive. You always gotta get the red-eye flights, don’t you?”

“Cheap” is all Jamie says.

“The title of your autobiography?” I grin when his gray eyes cut to me.

“Don’t even start with me. What the fuck were you up to last night?” Jamie puts his hands into my hair and tousles it with expert fingers. He’s doing my hair like his. I’m pathetic, because it feels wonderful. “I get the feeling my baby sister has been exerting herself horizontally, judging by that hickey. Are you sure you weren’t chasing a guy up the side of the house?”

“Ha, ha,” I respond.

Jamie looks at Tom. “That was one of your jobs. Get rid of the guys until I find her the husband option. I take it you weren’t in your security post last night. I don’t blame you.” He means the tent and the rain. He’s looking now at the mud on my shoes. “Seriously, go get changed. That robe is gross.” Jamie takes his bag and walks to the front door, rummaging for his key.

I manage to make it halfway down the side of the house before my shoes completely sink in. “I’m beached.”

Tom picks me up with an arm around my waist and carries me the last few yards to my private bathroom. When it was delivered he drew a lady stick figure on the door with a Sharpie. I love him for it. He puts me on the metal stairs, and Patty is still on his other forearm. It’s honestly the only way to travel.

His skin smells different and lovely.

“Thanks,” I say. The robe has sprung open indecently and he tries to pinch it together one-handed with not much success. The stair has me at eye level with him. Lip level. I lean in but he evades me.

He gives up. “Can I please buy you a new robe?”

“That would be a very romantic gesture. Make it something short and silky.” I grin at his exasperated expression.

“Shorter and silkier than this? Please, don’t walk around like this in case guys turn up early.”

“This was an emergency and you know it. Don’t be telling me what to wear, I don’t like it.” I lean on the door behind me and bite my lip. “Hey. We smell like each other.”

He shushes me desperately. I cross my bare feet at the ankles and look at his body, my brain full of grateful thoughts and erotic memories, until he finds words.