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she said, trying to appear innocent.
    He shook his head and pushed them away. “No thanks. Then it would taste like salt, pepper and buttered sand. You are
mean
, Asha. Making me eat sand is something my brother Trev would do.”
    â€œTrev?” she asked.
    He nodded. “My twin brother, Trevelyn, and we have an older brother, Des.”
    â€œWe are both twins! I have a twin sister, Raven.” Asha was delighted with the bond of commonality. “It’s not easy being a twin, is it?”
    Over the breakfast he talked about having a sibling so alike, of how he understood the struggle of being outwardly like another yet so different inside, feeling the need to assert your own individuality. Her earlier peeve forgotten, Asha enjoyed learning about him. Jago was easy to talk to, flirt with. He enjoyed horseback riding—though seldom had the opportunity—loved music, old movies and sleeping in on rainy days. He took pleasure in swimming laps nearly every day, and dancing when the opportunity presented itself. The meal passed too quickly.
    â€œI have several sisters besides my twin. My sisters Britt and BarbaraAnne—B.A., we call her—are twins, and we have twin brothers, too. We joke that twins not only run in the family, they gallop. I come from a big family, very clannish. Do you come from a large family?”
    Jago pushed his plate back, sipping the last of his coffee. “Just my brothers and my mother. She’s under nursing care in Ireland.”
    â€œI thought I detected the hint in your accent. You lived there?
    â€œThe accent comes from her, I should imagine. She’sIrish. We lived there when I was little, but I was too small to recall anything.”
    â€œYour father’s not alive?” She watched his face cloud at her question.
    Obviously, it was his turn to experience a raw nerve. He stiffened, taking a beat to rein in strong emotions, before saying in a flat tone, “My father died. I really don’t recall him, though Des talks about him a lot. He’s older . . . memories are more vivid for my brother.”
    Seeing the sparkle dim in those mesmerizing eyes, Asha reached out, and without thinking covered his hand with hers. She almost yanked it back, assuming it perhaps a little presumptuous. Instead of rebuffing her sympathy, Jago’s hand quickly reversed positions, gave hers a small squeeze of thanks. Lacing fingers, they sat for some time, just holding hands, not speaking
    As Asha stared into the deep green eyes, she could barely breathe, stunned by the rare moment of wordless understanding that shook the very walls of her safe little world.
    Never had she felt so close to another person, not even her twin.

C HAPTER S IX
    Later that night, Asha was still trying to erect defenses against the profound connection she’d felt with Jago.
    â€œI knew there was a reason I didn’t like him,” she muttered under her breath as she frowned in his direction. Ringing up a dinner ticket on the register, she was careful not to slam the drawer just to vent her peevish mood.
    Netta flashed a smile while she filled glasses from the soda fountain. “I saw you drive up with Sexy Lips and unload groceries at noon. Very domestic. Convenient—him living right next door? Sigh. And me stuck in a cottage up the hill. Still, even if I were closer, I doubt it would do any good. That man keeps an eye on you at all times.” She leaned close and bumped Asha’s shoulder. “You feel a target on your back, sugarplum?”
    A woman passed by Jago’s table and paused to say something to him. Whatever the question was, he just shook his head no and grinned.
    â€œJerk. I forgot what a pain in the bum a pretty man can be. Women thirteen to ninety make cakes of themselves around them,” Asha groused, working up a temper. “Ellaslipped her phone number to him when she passed his change back for breakfast. I
knew
she would.”
    Netta