“So when are you going to tell her how you feel?” Roderick asked him.
Remy stared across the beach to where Zandra and his niece Mackenzie knelt by the water picking up seashells that had washed ashore. The sweetly poignant image made his chest ache.
“I’ll tell her when she’s ready,” he murmured.
“How do you know she isn’t ready now?” Roderick countered.
“Because I know her. And she isn’t.”
Roderick pondered that for a moment. “I think you should tell her anyway. Get it out in the open.”
Remy grimaced. “So she can run even further away from me? No, thanks.”
“You might be surprised. Look, Rem, you and Zandra have been in each other’s lives forever. You know her better than any other guy, and she knows you better than any woman you’ve ever been with. Is it really so hard for you to believe that she just might return your feelings?”
Remy was silent, his eyes wandering back to Zandra. She and Lena were strolling away from the water, their sandals dangling from their fingertips.
As if sensing Remy’s gaze, Zandra suddenly lifted her head and looked right at him, as though she’d been aware of his location the whole time.
His pulse thudded as they stared at each other.
After several beats, Zandra shifted her gaze to Roderick and gave him the winsome smile that should have been Remy’s. When Roderick grinned back at her, Remy felt homicidal.
Following the line of Zandra’s vision, Lena beamed and blew a kiss at her husband, who pretended to catch it, tip back his head and drop it into his mouth. Lena laughed.
Remy rolled his eyes.
As the two women moved on, he muttered to Roderick, “I don’t know what nauseated me more. That little exchange, or your sappy speech over dinner.”
Roderick grinned, hooking an arm around Remy’s neck and giving him a noogie before Remy laughingly shoved him away.
Though identical twins, the two brothers were so different that friends and family members humorously referred to Roderick as the “more civilized version” of Remy. Roderick was polished, charming and debonair, favoring a dirty martini with three olives while Remy’s drink of choice was a good lager that put hair on your chest. Roderick smoked premium Cuban cigars, while Remy had been known to chew tobacco and light up a blunt to calm his jagged nerves. Roderick wore expensive Italian suits and loafers, while Remy was most comfortable in battered leather jackets, camouflage pants and combat boots. Roderick was GQ to Remy’s Guns & Ammo, James Bond to his Rambo.
Though their personalities were as opposite as night and day, what they both possessed in abundance was confidence, an iron will and the innate swagger of alpha males who were accustomed to getting whatever they liked, any way they wanted.
Roderick had gotten the woman of his dreams.
Now it was Remy’s turn, damn it.
“You’ve been pining over Zandra for the past two years,” Roderick drawled, as if he’d read Remy’s mind. “Sooner or later you’re gonna have to make your move.”
Remy grunted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Roderick chuckled. “Seriously, man. You should listen to me. I’m older and wiser.”
Remy snorted. “You’re two minutes older.”
“Ah, but two minutes can be a lifetime.”
Remy smirked. “Is that what you tell Lena every night?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Remy grinned. “You have to admit you walked right into that one.”
“Maybe,” Roderick conceded with a lazy smile, “but I’ll let it pass this time because I know you’re just jealous.”
Remy cocked a brow at him. “Jealous of who? You?”
“Yup. ’Cause I’m getting some—and you ain’t.”
Remy scowled, incensed because his brother was right. “Screw you,” he grumbled.
Roderick laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Anyway, I did my part by getting Za-Za here. The rest is up to you.”