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She moved over to the bed and looped her arms around his neck. “You are my sweet man.” She kissed him. And not a short kiss.
Corbin rolled his eyes. “Do you mind? I’m trying to get dressed. And what are you two doing here at the ranch? I don’t remember inviting you.”
Jesse and Liberty broke apart and Jesse grinned. “We sorta invited ourselves.” He exchanged glances with Liberty. “We have a big surprise we’re going to announce at dinner.”
Corbin hated surprises as much as he hated being surrounded by Holidays.
But not more than thirty minutes later, that’s where he found himself, sitting at the big harvest table in the kitchen, surrounded.
Besides Hank, Darla, Mimi, and the twins, there was the oldest sister, Sweetie Mae, who had been just as popular in high school as Liberty and was now a songwriter for a Nashville recording company. She was there with her husband, Decker Carson, who was the town sheriff. The second oldest Holiday sister, Cloe, was there with her husband, Rome Remington, whose family owned one of the biggest ranches in Texas. The two younger sisters, Hallie and Noelle, were the only Holidays missing. According to Darla, the storm had kept them from traveling from Austin and Dallas to share in Liberty and Jesse’s surprise.
They hadn’t missed anything. The surprise was ridiculous.
Jesse had bought a whorehouse that had been as famous as the Chicken Ranch. Corbin could understand Jesse being intrigued by the house and its sordid history, but he could not understand him wanting to turn the old mansion into a bed-and-breakfast. Jesse didn’t make bad business choices. His bank account proved it. So did all the knowledge he’d imparted to Corbin. Without Jesse’s help—and his money—Corbin’s company, Oleander Investments, wouldn’t be nearly as successful.
As he listened to Liberty go on and on about the bed-and-breakfast, he realized Jesse wasn’t the one who had come up with the idea. Liberty had. It looked like she was controlling Jesse like she controlled her sister.
Jesse didn’t seem to mind.
Nor did he seem to mind being surrounded by Holidays. He complimented Darla’s chicken and dumplings and teased Mimi about being the prettiest gardener in Texas. He joked around with Hank and volunteered to help him and Rome brand some new calves.
But mostly Jesse watched Liberty with a besotted look on his face.
“I can’t wait for y’all to see the plans,” Liberty gushed. “Each room is going to be decorated for a Holiday sister. Hallie’s will be decorated in black and white with orange accents for Halloween. Noelle’s will be red and green for Christmas. Sweetie, yours is pink and red for Valentine’s Day. Cloe’s is green for Saint Patrick’s.”
Jesse butted in. “Liberty’s is a firework show of color.” He winked at her. “Because my gal is like a firework. Brilliant and stunning.”
Liberty laughed. “You left out explosive.” She looked at Belle and smiled brightly. “And yours, Belly, is going to be a patriotic red, white, and blue.”
Belle didn’t look impressed. She looked as annoyed with the bed-and-breakfast idea as Corbin.
After her shower, she’d pulled her wet hair back in a ponytail and put on Wilder Wildcats sweats that he remembered her wearing in high school. Unlike her sister, Belle had never worn short skirts to show off her long legs. Or tight shirts and sweaters to define her full breasts. She’d never worn a lot of makeup to emphasize her green eyes or draw attention to her full lips. She’d been the quiet twin who seemed happy to live in her sister’s shadow.
Which made him even more positive that the twin switch hadn’t been her idea. She was just lying to cover Liberty’s lie. A lie Liberty continued to perpetuate. She had convinced Jesse she knew nothing about a twin switch and Jesse had fallen for it.
But Corbin knew the truth. He blamed both twins for the deception. Liberty for coming up with the plan and Belle for executing it.
Although he blamed Belle the most.
She had borne witness to the infatuated fool who had showed up at her door all spit polished and holding a bouquet of thorny red roses he’d pilfered from Mrs. Stokes’s garden. The fool who tripped over his feet as he walked her to the truck Mr. Crawley had loaned him for his “big date.” The fool who didn’t realize he had been duped until the date was over.
He had told Belle he’d figured the farce out right away and only stayed on the date because he’d wanted to see how far she’d go. But that was a lie. The truth was he’d been so wrapped up in his dream of dating Liberty that he hadn’t known about the switch until after Belle had gone inside—after she had beguiled him with her lemony scent, her contagious laughter, and her mind-altering kisses.
As he stood there feeling happier than he’d ever felt in his life, Darla Holiday’s voice had drifted out the window.
“You didn’t tell me you had a date, Belle Justine. Who is that young man?”
“No one, Mama,” Belle had answered. “Just a boy.”
Corbin’s happiness had wilted like the single rose petal lying on the porch floor.
Yes, he blamed Belle the most.
Chapter Four
Corbin was staring at her again. All through dinner, whenever Belle glanced in his direction his icy blue eyes were focused on her . . . and shooting daggers. She couldn’t blame him. She deserved his anger. Liberty might have broken their date, but Belle was the one who had made her sister’s rejection worse instead of better.
The plan had been for Belle to answer the door and tell Corbin that Liberty was sick and couldn’t go on their date. But just one look at his pressed shirt, the roses in his hand, and the vulnerable look in his eyes and her heart had broken. When he had mistaken her for Liberty, she had thought it would be less hurtful if she just pretended to be her sister. Being a naïve teenager, she hadn’t thought her plan through.
