Waking Up to You Overexposed

chapter 10



WHEN SHE HEARD Oliver speak, Candace thought for a moment he’d called out to her from downstairs. She strode to the top of the staircase and glanced down, expecting to find him looking up at her.

Instead, she saw the man she was falling for, with his hands on her sister’s ass.

“Whoa!” she called, charging down the stairs, taking them a couple at a time as she descended.

Oliver, his mouth agape, stared at her, then at Madison, then back at her. He dropped his hands and took a quick step back, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Twins? You’re twins?”

Realizing what had happened—that her lover had mistaken her sister for her and obviously copped a feel—Candace felt her flash of jealousy disappear. She bit down on her lips to prevent a giggle, knowing Oliver was incredibly embarrassed.

Madison stuck her hand out, as if he hadn’t just been gripping her butt, which had always been just a wee bit curvier than Candace’s. “I’m Madison Reid. It’s nice to meet you. You’re Oliver, I presume?”

He didn’t take her hand, continuing to stare back and forth between them, as most people did when they first realized they were seeing double.

Finally shaking off her shocked amusement, Candace threw her arms around her twin’s shoulders. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until at least tomorrow.”

“I caught an earlier flight.”

Madison squeezed her tight, and they held each other for a long minute. Neither seemed willing to let go first.

Ever since Candace had moved out to L.A. to try to break into movie costuming, missing Madison had been the hardest thing to deal with. Oh, of course she missed her parents and her friends, but she and her twin had a special bond. The only person who’d ever come close to coming between them was Tommy, and that was only until Madison had clued in to the fact that he was gay and wasn’t someone they ever had to compete over.

Before the move, they hadn’t ever been apart for longer than a few weeks, since they’d both gone to colleges in Central Florida and shared an apartment throughout. Mad had been Candace’s best friend since the day they were born, and until this moment, when tears started pouring out of her eyes, she honestly hadn’t realized how long they’d been apart. It had been months since she’d flown to New York to help Mad move into her new place after she’d landed her first big-city reporting job.

“I’ve missed you so much,” her sister whispered.

“Right back at you.”

She heard sniffling—not her own—and realized she wasn’t the only one who’d turned on the waterworks. Finally, knowing Oliver had to be standing there, gaping, wondering when somebody was going to explain, she let Mad go and took a step back. They both wiped their eyes, probably looking like a pair of saps.

“Uh...does somebody want to tell me what’s going on?” Oliver still looked a little stunned.

Candace walked over and took his arm. “Didn’t I ever tell you that Madison and I are identical twins?”

“I think I would have remembered.” He didn’t sound happy. “How do you not mention something like that? And I can’t believe Buddy didn’t.”

She shrugged, a little sheepish. “I guess it never occurred to him. When we were younger, we were both pretty adamant about not being thought of as just the Reid twins. We wanted to always be known as individuals.”

“Right,” Madison interjected. “Individuals who had each other’s back no matter what, switched places all the time and sat in on each other’s classes for the subjects one or the other of us didn’t like. But everybody had to call us by our given names, not, ‘the twins.’”

Candace exchanged a smile with her sister, both of them obviously remembering their stubborn insistence during childhood on being unique people, not part of a duo. Of course, they’d been inseparable anyway. Oh, how she’d missed her.

“I really wish I’d known,” Oliver said. When he rubbed his hands over his eyes and shook his head, she realized he was more embarrassed than anything else. He confirmed it. “I was an ass. I’m sorry, Madison, I truly thought you were Candace.”

Her sister, who prided herself on chewing men up and spitting them out, both romantically and in the cutthroat world of journalism in which she’d immersed herself, offered him a wide smile. “Are you kidding? I loved every second of it.”

Wondering just how much she’d missed, Candace shot a pointed stare at her sister that silently said, Back off. He’s mine.

Madison put her hands up, palms out in a conciliatory gesture, but ruined it when she wagged her eyebrows up and down. “Candace wasn’t quite as descriptive about you as she might have been.”

Wishing her twin hadn’t mentioned the fact that she’d been talking about him, she changed the subject. “Come on in, sit down, relax. Do you want something—coffee? A glass of wine?”

“Is it from a fifty-thousand-dollar bottle?”

Candace grinned. She’d filled her sister in on the treasure in the basement. “Sorry, no. We figured we’d better leave everything else that’s down there for the appraiser. I have horrible visions of accidentally misreading something and breaking open a bottle that would pay off the mortgage on this place.”

“Ah well,” Mad said, waving a hand. “I guess I’ll make do with cheap swill for tonight.”

“I’ll see if I can find something up to your New York City tastes,” she replied with a chuckle.

Mad followed them into the living room and plopped down on a recliner, flipping the handle to lift the footrest. She kicked off her comfortable shoes and flexed her feet, making herself at home.

Candace went to the bar, grabbed a bottle she’d picked up at a nearby store and popped it open. Oliver, meanwhile, sat on the couch, trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact that he was looking back and forth between them, trying to find differences that were hard even for family members to spot. Candace’s second piercing in one ear, a freckle on her left hand, the tiny scar on Madison’s chin, which she’d split open in nursery school—those, and their vastly different wardrobes, were all that really told them apart now that Mad had given up her redhead experiment and gone back to her natural color.

“You doing okay?” she asked Oliver after she’d given Madison her wine. She touched his shoulder lightly. “I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything. I meant to.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “As long as I’m not going to get charged with groping a stranger.”

Her brow went up. “Groping?” She cast an arch look at her sister. “Just how long did you let him think you were me?”

Mad smiled sweetly. “Long enough to be impressed, little sister.”

Little by virtue of being born twenty-seven minutes after her twin.

Candace sat down and dropped a possessive hand on Oliver’s leg. He covered it with his own, squeezing her fingers, and she knew his embarrassment was fading.

As she sipped her wine, Madison asked a million questions, mostly about Buddy. She was just as fond of their grandfather as Candace and was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. Deciding his heart probably wasn’t up to any pranks right now, she agreed not to sneak into Candace’s closet and try any identity swaps.

“So when is he going to be able to come home?”

“The day after tomorrow,” Candace replied.

“I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.” Madison dropped her gaze, eyeing the ruby liquid in her glass. “Are you, uh, still planning on leaving as soon as he’s released?”

Her stomach lurched. That had been the plan all along. Mad had promised to come visit her in L.A. once Grandpa was back on his feet, since she knew Candace had already been here for almost two weeks.

She had to do it, knowing real life was waiting for her. But oh, God, she did not want to go. She wasn’t ready to end this wonderful interlude. The time she’d spent here, her days with her grandfather, as well as the long heated nights with her lover, had been the happiest she could remember for a very long time. She loved the climate, loved the country, loved being involved in the excitement of her grandfather’s collection.

She loved Oliver.

That realization had been creeping up on her a little more every day, but she hadn’t allowed herself to really believe it until now. While her first inclination was to continue to shove the very idea away, pretend it had never occurred to her, she knew she wasn’t that good at denial.

Somewhere between her first night here, when she’d attacked him with a pot and fifteen minutes ago, when she’d seen him holding her sister, she had lost her heart to him. All her mixed-up feelings toward the man had cemented into pure and simple love.

“Yeah, Candace,” Oliver asked, his tone serious and his stare intense. “Are you leaving?”

She swallowed, but since her mouth had gone so dry, it didn’t help. “I, uh...I’m not sure yet.”

He nodded slowly, then cast a glance between her and Madison. “Listen, it sounds like you two haven’t seen each other for a while. I’ll get out of here so you can catch up.”

“You don’t have to...” she protested.

“Don’t go on my account!” added Madison.

He stood anyway. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” He cast a glance toward Madison. “Candace and I were supposed to go to a winery owner’s event down in the city tomorrow evening. Why don’t you take my spot?”

That was the courteous offer to make and she wasn’t surprised he’d extended it. But her heart twisted anyway. She’d been so looking forward to an evening out with him, being on his arm, dancing with him. Spending the night in an opulent hotel room where they didn’t have to share a small, lumpy bed or sneak out of Buddy’s house like she was a teenager getting it on with her high school football player boyfriend.

Especially if it was to be the last night they’d have together.

The last night ever.

Tears formed in her eyes again. She blinked them away, willing him not to notice.

“Not a chance!” Madison replied with a visible grimace. “I’ve been working fourteen-hour days lately. I’m so burned-out I think I’ll do nothing but sleep and visit the old guy for at least a week.”

“It really isn’t...”

“Forget it,” Mad said, cutting him off. “I’m not being nice—ask Candace. I don’t do nice. I’m just being honest. I really don’t want to go.”

True. Mad didn’t play nice for niceness’s sake. She was blunt and honest. Still, seeing the twinkle in her sister’s eye, and knowing Madison had to realize by the way she’d been talking about him that Candace was crazy about Oliver, she couldn’t help thinking that this time, her sister’s crusty heart was speaking for her.

“If you’re sure,” Oliver said. He turned to Candace. “So will you be ready to leave by three o’clock tomorrow?”

Spoken as if he didn’t think he’d see her tonight. Ha. She had a key to his cottage and she wasn’t afraid to use it. She’d proved that to him already.

But, figuring she’d surprise him later by showing up in his bed without a stitch, she merely smiled. “Of course.”

Bidding Madison good-night, he left the house. They were silent for a few minutes, then without saying a word, her sister got up, went to the bar and poured two glasses of wine. She came back, handed one to Candace and sat beside her on the couch.

“You’re in love with him.”

Candace could only nod.

“I think he’s in love with you, too.” She chuckled. “He’s definitely in lust. Whoa, girl, that man has some plans for you. He’s totally delish, by the way.”

“I know.”

She didn’t go on, feeling that deep well of sadness rise up within her. Because yes, she suspected Oliver had developed feelings for her. But no, she was not going to have the happily ever after her twin seemed to be envisioning.

It was silly, really. Most women would be envious, thinking she’d be blissfully happy when her engagement to one of the most eligible bachelors alive was announced. In truth, her heart would be shattered, knowing she’d given up her only chance at happiness with the lawyer-turned-groundskeeper who had made her entire world come alive.

“So why are you miserable?” Mad asked, sensing her mood. Her mouth twisted into a frown. “Has he done something to hurt you? Jesus, he’s not married is he!”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighed deeply. “I can’t keep him.”

Her sister snorted. “Of course you can.”

“I have to get back to my life in L.A.”

“Bullshit. You can work from here.”

“It’s not the job,” she admitted. “I’ve made a commitment and I can’t back out on it.”

Madison leaned forward, dropping her elbows onto her knees. “There’s no commitment in the world that’s more important than figuring out if this guy is the love of your life.”

“Yes, there is.” She sighed heavily, glad to be able to reveal her secret to someone. Madison would understand, of that she had no doubt. “I’m engaged.”

Her sister spit out her mouthful of wine. It dribbled down her chin, landing on her sweatshirt. She grabbed Candace’s left hand, noted the absence of a ring and gaped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I’ve made a promise. I’m going to marry Tommy.”

* * *

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Oliver walked up to the main house, knocking on the door for the first time in as long as he could remember so he didn’t make any more identity mistakes. Candace answered right away, holding a small suitcase in her hand. She looked beautiful, as always, wearing slim-fitting tan slacks and a bright pink blouse, the color of cotton candy, cut low over those delicious curves. His mouth watered with the need to taste her, because oh, did she ever melt on his tongue.

Judging by the way her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric, she’d seen his expression and read his thoughts. Those dusky points were prominent against the material, and he wondered if she’d eschewed a bra. Candace was generously built, with breasts that invited lots of deep sucking, which he knew she loved. The thought that she was bare beneath her clothes would torment him throughout the whole drive into the city.

His pants tightened across his groin. He couldn’t even look at her without wanting her. If they weren’t on a timetable, he’d have her on the couch and be between her thighs, cock-deep in heaven, within ninety seconds.

She’d left his place maybe seven hours ago, after a long night filled with eroticism. But seeing her now, he wanted her all over again. He didn’t think he could ever possibly get tired of making love to this woman. For all the years that he’d scoffed at friends who’d fallen victim to the love-and-marriage trap, he suddenly repented. Because the very idea that she might leave tomorrow, that this might all be over, had him ready to offer her just about anything if only she’d stay.

Hell, he’d even follow her. And considering his loathing of Southern California right now, that was probably the biggest sacrifice he could offer, the most sincere declaration he could make of his feelings for her.

Love. That’s what he felt for her. He’d never experienced it before, with any woman, but Candace Reid had crept into his heart and planted a flag, claiming it as her own.

Unable to resist, he slid a hand into her thick, beautiful hair, and drew her close for a kiss. He didn’t for a second worry that he was kissing the wrong woman. Now that he knew there were two of them, he allowed his senses and his instincts to tell him this was his lover. His woman. He’d never mistake anyone else for her again.

They kissed for a long, sultry moment, before finally drawing apart. Candace was pink-cheeked, her lips parted and her breaths shallow.

“Hello to you, too,” she murmured.

“I’ve missed you.”

She didn’t demur or wave that off with an it-was-only-seven-hours comment. Instead, she simply nodded. “I know.”

They stared at one another, exchanged a slow smile, then he reached for her bag. “Ready to go?” he asked, knowing he’d be hard and hungry for her the entire forty-minute drive to the hotel.

“Yes.”

“Where’s your sister?”

“She stayed with Grandpa. The two of them are old backgammon enemies. She brought his board and I doubt either of them will be willing to quit until they’ve played a half-dozen games.”

He would definitely have bowed out if her sister had wanted to attend tonight’s function, but Oliver couldn’t deny he was glad Madison had declined his offer. No, he didn’t give a damn about some fancy party, during which the big wineries would pat themselves on the back. But getting away with Candace for a night sounded like pure heaven.

They made the drive in her rental car. The old farm truck he used was not exactly formal ball material, and he couldn’t imagine driving it up to the valet stand and handing over the keys. Since her car was a convertible, they put the top down for the drive. It was breezy, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. A perfect day. She seemed to delight in it. Her long hair whipped behind her and she closed her eyes, obviously savoring the feel of the sun on her face.

Of course, when they hit the city, that changed. Downtown San Francisco was, even on a Saturday afternoon, a busy mass of humanity, and traffic was a bitch. They didn’t arrive at the hotel until late afternoon and weren’t ensconced in their room until after five.

She whistled as they entered and spied the plush room, the huge bed and the great view of the bay out the window. “Nice. You sure you can afford this, groundskeeper?”

“I’ve got a few dollars tucked away,” he said, reaching for her and drawing her into his arms.

She twined hers around his neck. “Seriously. You didn’t need to pay for all of this. I’ll pitch in.”

Laughing, he refused the offer. “Do you really think I’m working for your grandfather because I need the money? For that matter, do you really think I’ve ever actually cashed one of the checks he’s given me?”

Her mouth fell open. “He’s not paying you? Good grief, Oliver, you work like a maniac!”

“I don’t think he’s figured it out yet. I don’t need the money, sweetheart. I needed the escape. Needed a place to stay, and hard work to do, so I could figure things out.”

She stepped out of his arms, taking his hand and pulling him toward the bed. Unfortunately, rather than stripping naked and leaping onto him, she sat down, patting the space beside her for him to sit, as well.

Oh. Great. They were going to talk.

“And have you?” she asked. “Figured things out, I mean?”

“I’m getting there.”

She lifted her hand and cupped his jaw. “Are you going to be all right, Oliver?”

He turned her palm toward his mouth and kissed it. “I am. I promise.”

There was only one thing that could derail him from being all right, something over which he had no control. But he couldn’t push her, couldn’t force her. Hell, right now, he couldn’t even bring himself to ask her, not if it meant spoiling the last full day they would have together. By this time tomorrow, her grandfather would be home and Candace would be packing to leave for Los Angeles.

Maybe he could convince her not to go. But maybe he couldn’t. Which meant today might be all he had, all he would ever have of her, for the rest of his days.

“What do you...”

“Later,” he insisted, pressing his mouth to hers for a deep, hungry kiss. She twined her hands in his hair. Oliver continued to kiss her, breathing her in, memorizing her scent and her taste and the way he felt at this moment. God, did he ever hope he wouldn’t have to bank these memories for a long time, and that she wasn’t really going to walk away from him tomorrow. Whatever this promise was that she’d made, surely she could get out of it. No way could she feel about him the way he suspected she did and not stay here and fight for a real relationship.

When the kiss ended, she persisted. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“Shh,” he insisted, kissing his way to her wrist. He flicked his tongue out on the pulse point, then continued moving up her arm, pushing her sleeve as he went. “Enough talking.”

“Mmm,” she said as he abandoned her arm and moved to her neck, nuzzling the hollow. “You don’t play fair.”

“Lawyer.”

“But...”

“No buts. We have to be at that ball in two hours, and I intend to spend the next one-hundred-and-five minutes giving you many, many orgasms. After that, you’ll have exactly fifteen minutes to wipe my cum off your thighs and get into your dress.”

“Oh, my God,” she groaned, her voice thick with hunger.

Candace always got off on his more blunt expressions of need for her, growing even more inflamed when he whispered in her ear the kinds of words a polite man usually didn’t say to a nice woman. She loved it, always growing wetter, wilder, when he talked about how much he loved eating her p-ssy and the fantasies he had about her gorgeous ass. They’d even gotten into a conversation about the most forbidden word in the female lexicon, and he knew she now looked at it in a whole new way, knowing if he ever used that word, it would be because he was out of his mind with need for her. What was once offensive had become incredibly erotic to her.

“Any more arguments?” he growled as he nipped her earlobe, dropping a hand to her thigh.

She gasped. “No arguments.”

“Good. Now take off your clothes, Candace,” he ordered as he nibbled her collarbone.

“Why don’t you make me,” she said, her tone sultry, provocative. She was daring him, egging him on, testing the boundaries.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes, giving her a moment’s warning. Then he reached for the front of her blouse, grabbed two handfuls and yanked.

Buttons flew. She gasped. Two gorgeous, perfect, pink-tipped breasts spilled out.

As he’d suspected, no bra.

All was right with the world.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said as he pushed her back onto the bed, bending for a taste of one succulent nipple.

“To hell with the blouse.” She cooed as he sucked one breast while tweaking and toying with the other. They were made for pleasure, big and sensitive, and as he played with them, he wondered if every other man in the world was as hopelessly addicted to sucking the breasts of the woman he loved.

Twining her hands in his hair, she rose toward his mouth, holding him where she wanted him, whimpering with pleasure as he suckled her. Her hips were rising in tiny thrusts, as if every pull of his mouth sent sparks of heat surging to her groin.

After he’d paid lavish attention to those beauties, he kissed his way down her belly to the seam of her pants. Unbuttoning them, he pulled them off her, taking her shoes and panties, too, until she was naked, spread out like a feast for the devouring.

He stood up beside the bed, slowly stripping off his shirt, his hands shaking with need. He never took his eyes off her. Candace lay there, writhing, stretching, running her hand over her own body, from her breasts down to that perfect little tuft of curls between her thighs.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered her as he unfastened his pants.

She did, slipping a long, slender finger deeper into her crevice to stroke the tiny nub of flesh that perched at the top.

“Like this?”

“Oh, yeah. I definitely like that.”

She laughed softly. “I do, too,” she admitted, her voice filled with feminine power. She knew what she did to him, knew he went a little crazy every time they made love.

He shoved the rest of his clothes off, smiling with male satisfaction as she stared avidly at his erect cock. She licked her lips, whimpering, her body twisting even more restlessly as her need overtook her.

He didn’t reach for her yet. Reaching for his cock, he stroked it, knowing he could bring himself to climax by just standing here watching her.

But he wouldn’t. Because that wouldn’t even come close to the sensation of coming inside her body.

“How do you want me, Oliver? What’s your fantasy?”

His mouth went dry as he pictured all the ways he’d had her, and the ways he hadn’t. He could make love to her every day for a month and find something new to try, some new place on her lush body to explore with his hands and his mouth.

But one thing immediately came to mind.

“Turn over,” he told her, his tone silky.

“With pleasure.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, and did as he’d asked. Oliver groaned at the sight of those pale, round globes, his hands tingling with the need to squeeze and stroke them.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your ass?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Ever since that morning when you walked up the stairs, shaking it at me, all I’ve been able to think about was getting you on your hands and knees and slamming into you from behind.”

She didn’t hesitate, rising onto her knees, her bottom perched up invitingly. When he caught sight of that glistening pink slit, he forgot everything else. Nothing mattered except the need to get inside her and pump wildly, to imprint himself on her, body and soul.

“Come and take me,” she ordered. “Take me and come.”

He knelt on the bed behind her, nestling his cock between her cheeks, sliding up and down to wet it with the cream seeping from her sex. She was whimpering, pushing against him, silently begging for more. Unable to resist a moment longer, he nudged her legs farther apart and moved his cock to her slick opening.

“Yes. Now, please!”

He didn’t need any further urging. Giving in to her demands, and his own body’s, he thrust into her. Sensation battered him, and he was left stunned at how good the angle felt, how much deeper he got, and how f*cking erotic it was to look down and see his cock buried balls-deep in her body.

He grabbed her hips, pulling out, thrusting back. Candace met his strokes, groaning, begging, going mad.

It was wild. Hot. Incredibly pleasurable. When he bent over her to cover her back, and reached around so he could toy with her *, she came with a loud cry.

He almost followed her, but something made him stop. Yeah, he loved this. Yes, he knew it would go down as one of his favorite things in the entire world.

But he wanted to see her face. Wanted to memorize how she looked when racked with pleasure and totally lost to everything but him.

So without saying anything, he pulled out of her, gently turned her over and settled back between her thighs. She reached for him, encircling his neck, smiling as she pulled him down for a long, slow kiss.

“Amazing,” she whispered against his lips when the kiss ended.

“Yeah. We are.”

She tightened her hold on him, wrapping her legs around his hips as he slid back into her. Their bodies melted together, each of them giving and taking by turns. He lost all sense of time and place, sure only of one thing.

He couldn’t lose her. He’d do whatever it took to keep her in his life forever.