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  Bobby clicked the selector, and the screen filled with their design for the wall.

  Georgia gasped.

  Hyer’s eyebrows shot up.

  Lind’s face went blank.

  Now what the hell does that mean?

  A long moment later, Georgia actually wiped her cheek. “Gentlemen, this is amazing. A masterpiece. I’ll be honored to walk beneath this work of art each day, and I’ll tell all my customers to be sure and look up.”

  Bobby smiled from his heart. “Georgia, you’re a love, and it will be our privilege to paint for you.”

  “Who’s going to be doing the painting?” The tone was rough but the voice was lilting—higher than Bobby expected. Paolo Lind gazed steadily at Bobby.

  “We both will.”

  His eyes flicked to Robin and then back to Bobby. “I want to be sure that you’re working on it. Personally.”

  Yes, he’s a bastard, but such a pretty one. “Mr. Lind, in order to meet your tight deadline, it will take both of us working on the mural at different times. We’ll be suspended high above the ground on a scaffold where it will be hot and bloody uncomfortable. Neither of us can do that for eight or ten hours a day—possibly longer. So yes, rest assured you’ll be getting both our skills.” Just a fuckload more of Robin’s, since Bobby had to be at the festival, but no reason to point that out.

  Lind made a humphing sound and nodded.

  Bobby turned to Georgia and Hyer. “I understand you don’t want your lobby littered with painting supplies, but we need to prep the wall, and a month is a short time to get this work done. I don’t suppose we could have a little extra time?”

  Georgia gave Lind a raised eyebrow, then smiled at Bobby. “It’s perfectly fine by me, Bobby.”

  Hyer glanced uneasily at Lind. “I assume you’d need the scaffold for preparing the wall?”

  “Unless I learn to fly pretty quickly. Or pogo sticks?” He grinned and purposefully didn’t look at the architect, but Hyer did, and apparently what he saw there cooled his courage.

  “I guess we better not.”

  Robin said, “It’s okay, Bobby. We’ll do it on canvas. We can prepare that at the studio.” Yes, it was a snarl.

  “Canvas?” That was Lind.

  Bobby caught Robin’s eye, and that’s all it took. Robin shut his mouth. Bobby said, “We apply the canvas to the wall much like wallpaper. It provides a more interesting and appropriate surface than the wall itself. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

  Lind looked up at Bobby, and their eyes met—and held. It should have been chilling. Why did it feel the exact opposite? What would it be like to delve into the mystery of those slightly exotic eyes?—and by delve, he meant delve! He’d gasp for breath if everyone in the room weren’t watching him. With a hard swallow, he dragged his gaze from Lind’s, but just before he turned his eyes, he caught the tiniest uptwitch of lips on that exquisite face. “Just make sure you’re working on it.”

  Bobby glanced at Robin. Now that would be a problem.

  Chapter Six

  ROBIN SIPPED his mimosa and adjusted his sunglasses against the bright Laguna morning. They’d chosen the Heidelberg for breakfast, and the waiters hadn’t put out the patio awning yet. At this hour most of the patrons were Laguna natives, many with their dogs, and the traffic going by on the Pacific Coast Highway wasn’t quite at bumper-to-bumper status yet.

  “Darling, you look positively slammed by work.” Rodney Mansfield, aka Roman, fellow artist and great friend, leaned forward and gave Robin a compassionate look.

  Robin glanced down at his paint-spattered jeans and T-shirt. He and Bobby had started at 7:00 a.m. and took a break at nine to meet Rod, Hunter, JJ, and Ryan for breakfast. “What makes you say that?” He twerked half a grin and got a raised eyebrow from Rod.

  Rod surveyed Bobby and then Robin elaborately. “How can Bobby stay so clean and you look like you’ve been rolling on your canvas?”

  Robin smirked. “One of the many mysteries of twinship.”

  JJ smiled in that sweet way of his that still made Robin sigh a little despite the fact that JJ was happily partnered, and said partner, Laguna cop Ryan Star, had a big gun in case Robin got acquisitive. “So tell us, tell us. What’s this new project I keep hearing about?”

  The waiter arrived with a huge tray of omelets and passed them around the table. Once they were contentedly munching, Bobby said, “Robin and I won this big mural project against John Bean and some well-known artist from New York.”

  “Congratulations.” JJ bounced and fluttered his hands, always so incongruous on a six-foot-four-inch hunk.

  Rod, Hunter, and Ryan all clapped.

  Bobby smiled and Robin just kept chewing. “We have to start in a week, and that’s going to take a buttload of time, so we’re both painting like machines to get product done for the festivals.”

  Rod said, “If you’re starting in a week, isn’t that going to run into the festivals big-time?”

  “Yes. Our plan is for me to sell at the booths and Robin to paint until his fingers bleed.”

  Robin made a snuffing noise. “Of course, I’ll be bleeding in more places than that if our least favorite architect finds out it’s me doing all the work.”

  Bobby grimaced. “Do you think he’s going to check?”

  “Hell yeah. Probably give us a proctology exam.”

  Rod stared back and forth between them. “Ooh, that sounds fun. What the hell are you talking about?”

  Robin sipped some mimosa to counteract the bad taste in his mouth. “The guy who designed the building and is its biggest tenant is this architect who hates me.”

  “He does not.” Bobby shook his head.

  “Uh, excuse me? How do you explain the fact that he wants you working on the project and not me?”

  JJ said, “He does?”

  “He says he does,” Bobby scoffed. “I’d love to believe it’s because I’m so irresistible he can’t bear to have me out of his sight, but I suspect it’s because he and Robin are like the battle of the titans, and this dude is so attracted to Robin, he’s afraid of what he’ll do if they’re together too much.”

  Robin stared at Bobby and tried to close his mouth. “Where the fuck did you come up with this fantasy?”

  “Oh come on, he looks at you like you’re ice cream.”

  Ryan, a man of few words, snorted, “Right. Rocky Road.”

  “And he wants to lick me until I die.” Robin slugged back the rest of his drink. Too bad Bobby wasn’t talking about that doctor. Of course, he could stand some Lind licking, except for sure that guy would bite.

  Hunter said in that soft voice of his, “I gather this man is attractive?”

  Bobby sighed loudly. “About the prettiest thing I ever saw. He’s this amazing combination of something Scandinavian and something Asian with maybe some Italian thrown in.”

  Funny that Bobby would have noticed Lind so completely. Robin said, “Bobby’s been devastating a bunch of handsome devils lately.”

  “Tell.” JJ fluttered a hand under Bobby’s nose.

  Bobby glanced at Robin. “Oh, you mean Dr. B. I have this new doctor. He’s the son of our previous GP. Oh my God, be still my heart. Just lovely. Not the perfection of our architect, but delicious in a whole different way.” Bobby leaned forward. “And he’s gay—and single!” He shrugged. “Or at least I think he is. Single, I mean. I mean, I know he’s not married, but maybe he has a boyfriend. Uh, he told Robin he’s gay.”

  JJ leaned back with a knowing look. “Are you planning to lure him into Double Trouble?”

  Robin’s cock practically exploded from his pants at the thought, but Bobby frowned. “No. I’m going to reform.”

  JJ pressed a hand to his lips to try to hold in his laugh. He didn’t succeed.

  The crease between Bobby’s bleached eyebrows deepened. “I’m serious. I want a real relationship. I can’t settle down if I’m fucking every guy in Southern California.” A woman at the next table gave him a quic
k glance, and Bobby lowered his voice and stared at his eggs. “How can I expect someone to respect me if I don’t respect myself?”

  For a second everyone was silent, and then Rod started to laugh. “Right, Julia Roberts, and you don’t kiss on the mouth.” He narrowed his bright eyes at Bobby. “Listen, dear, self-respect has zip to do with whether you’re having sex upside down in a tree or acting like a monk. You’re a kind and awesome man and everyone should appreciate that—including you.”

  Bobby wiped a tear from his eye and snuffled, “Thank you.”

  Robin glanced at Rod sideways. “We’ve missed the tree thing—so far.”

  Hunter said, “So what are you going to do about being in two places at once?”

  “Not sure.” Bobby dabbed at his lips. “I have to show up during the hours that Lind is likely to be there. I guess Robin will just have to man the Sawdust booth some afternoons.”

  “No!” Robin’s head snapped up so fast his neck should have dislocated.

  “You don’t have to talk to anyone.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” He clenched his teeth. Juvenile? You bet your back acne.

  JJ said, “Maybe I could help out sometimes.”

  Bobby frowned. “Thank you, JJ, but you need to work in David’s booth, plus, quite honestly, if we have to pay you, Robin may have to go back to cooking this summer.”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay me.” JJ smiled.

  “Of course we would. We’re grown-up people who run a business, and if you’re not getting paid, you could be home fucking Ryan. You don’t have to coddle Robin.” He glared across the table.

  Robin crossed his arms over his chest. I’ll damned well be unreasonable if I want to.

  Rod grinned evilly. “I have a suggestion.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” It came out sharper than Bobby likely intended since he was so pissed at Robin.

  “Well, you are identical, after all.” He slowly twisted the saltshaker.

  “What?”

  JJ bounced. “Oh my God. Of course. Didn’t you guys ever pretend to be the other when you were little?”

  Bobby still frowned, but he nodded. “Sure. All twins do. Even our mother couldn’t be sure which was which if we were really trying to fool her. But that’s when we were very small. Now we’re not so much alike.”

  “Are you kidding?” Ryan barked a laugh. “Under the hair and the clothes, we’d have trouble separating you. A guy who doesn’t know you? Not a chance.”

  Bobby pressed a hand to his chest. “Why, Officer, are you suggesting we do something deceitful?”

  “Hell, if this dude is trying to tell you how to do your job, deceive away.”

  Hunter, usually the most conservative of their friends, smiled. “Ryan has a point. It could even be fun.”

  “You’re crazy!” Robin spurted a little of the water he’d just drunk. “Bobby and I could never get away with acting like the other. He’d never pass for me, and God knows I can’t swallow that much sunshine in a year.”

  Rod scooted forward in his chair, rubbing his hands. “Bobby doesn’t have to pass as you. This asshole wants to see Bobby, right? So what if the two of you strike a happy medium on style? Go back to your natural color. I admit it’d be a bitch to get the black out of your hair, but I’m betting we can do it. Aside from hair color, you could be the same man.”

  “No, I’m bigger.”

  “By what, six ounces? Like Ryan said, no one who’s not your mother will be able to tell. Bobby can sell while you paint, and this dude will look up and think he’s seeing Bobby.”

  Bobby looked at Robin. “It could work.”

  “What if he talks to me?”

  “Our voices aren’t that different.” Bobby seemed to be swinging toward yes. Oh hell no.

  Ryan snarked, “Only your attitude.”

  Bobby started to look excited. Definite trouble. “Right. If he asks a question or something, you just answer chirpily like me.” He waved a hand. “Seriously, just channel when we were kids and you’d pretend to be me.”

  “Jesus, Bobby, I can’t do that.”

  “Then sell at Sawdust.”

  “Fuck! Okay, I’ll do it.” He glowered at the rest of the men at the table, got up, tossed bills beside his plate, and stalked off toward the car.

  Bobby called, “Robin. You have the car. It will take me extra time to walk.”

  “Get Rod to drive you.” He stomped down the stairs to the sidewalk and didn’t look back.

  “ROBIN, DAMMIT. Hold still.”

  Robin watched hair drift past his face and collect on the floor. “How much are you cutting off?”

  “Enough to make you look like me. Stop wriggling.”

  “If I wanted short hair, I’d have cut it, damn it.”

  “Robin, you didn’t cut it because you were too lazy, you didn’t care, and you liked hiding behind it. It won’t be short, just fashionable.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I love this color.” Bobby ran a hand through his own hair that shagged around his face and flopped over his forehead. The hair that had been platinum now glimmered a pale rosy brown.

  “What do you call it?”

  “Rose beige.”

  “Whatever you say.” Robin glanced up into the bathroom mirror. Well, damn, they were so much alike it was scary. He turned his head a little. Fuck if he didn’t look good. Sadly, good was one of the last things he wanted to look.

  Bobby took one final clip and stood back. “Masterpiece city. Damn, I forget how gorgeous I am.” He set the scissors on the counter and grabbed the whisk broom and dustpan he’d brought in earlier. As he swept up the hair, he said, “First, we need to show up together looking different enough that he knows there’s two of us. You wear your cap and your usual clothes. He’ll see that I changed my hair. After that, you dress like me, show the hair, and we’re home free.”

  “You seriously think we can get away with this?”

  “Sure. Just appear as yourself every now and then so he doesn’t get suspicious.”

  “He’s going to believe I’m you? Seriously?”

  Bobby stepped back. “Hmmm. It’s true you don’t capture my subtle je ne sais quoi, my ineffable air of mystery, but aside from that? Total match.” He giggled.

  Bobby just thought he was kidding. His natural sweetness could penetrate metal. “So we’ll go to the building this afternoon and supervise construction of the scaffold and application of the canvas.”

  Bobby dumped the hair in the trash can. “No. Tomorrow. We have our doctor’s appointments today.”

  “What? Like hell. You do, not me.”

  Bobby crossed his arms. “Robin, you made your appointment at the same time I did. If you were going to cancel, you should have done it. We can’t afford to be throwing away the cost of an office visit. Besides, the whole summer we’re going to be up to our ass in artistic alligators, so you need to get it done now and out of the way.” He grinned. “Then if you meet Prince Charming this summer, you’ll know you’re squeaky clean.”

  “As if! And I’m not letting your Dr. Yummy stick his finger up my ass.”

  “Sigh. I get erect just thinking about it.” He waggled his fingers as he left Robin’s bathroom. “Get dressed.”

  Shit. Erect was just what he was afraid of.

  Chapter Seven

  AN HOUR and a half later, Robin stared sulkily out the window as Bobby parked the Prius in the lot outside the medical office building in Irvine. If it had been up to Robin, they’d never have made it. Bobby pocketed the key. “Come on, bring your little tingly ass and let’s get this done.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I doubt it, but you can always ask him. Now move!”

  Bobby as dom always made Robin smile, so he got out and walked—no, dragged—toward the front door. By the time they got to the fifth-floor office, they didn’t have a moment to spare for the first appointment. Whose that would be, they hadn’t decided.

  Smiley nurse, who they discovere
d was named Olivia, greeted them with teeth and immediately walked to the entrance to the inner office and opened the door. “Mr. Robin McMillan, come on back.”

  “How come I have to go first?”

  Bobby looked up from the magazine he’d already opened. “Because I don’t want to have to come and chase your ass back to Laguna to get you into that office. Go.”

  Shit. He walked through the door.

  Olivia smiled. “I love the new do. It’s amazing how alike you two look. Is this your natural color?”

  “Can’t remember. I think it was a little darker.”

  She adjusted the weights on a standing scale. “Hop on, please.” He kicked off his flip-flops and stepped up. She slid the weighty things back and forth until they balanced. “One fifty-three sound right?”

  “Yeah. I guess so. I don’t check much. Bobby does, and I always figure I’m a few pounds heavier than he is.”

  “We’ll know soon.” She typed something into an electronic pad. “What inspired you to change your hair?”

  Probably saying they wanted to fool an asshole wouldn’t sound too good. “I love change.” Man, that was a lie.

  “Well, it certainly looks good. Let’s get your blood pressure and some samples.”

  The samples part worried him right off—but it turned out to just be urine and blood. His blood pressure wasn’t as high as he expected—considering—and she even did a quick EKG on him after having him remove his shirt and draping him in a waffled kimono of crinkly paper. “Okay, here’s the bottom wrap. Please remove the rest of your clothes, drape this over you, and sit up here. Dr. Brown will be right in. You’re up next.” She gave him a smile and left the room.

  Robin stared at the small piece of paper. Seriously? Shit, what if the doctor walked in while he was changing? He ripped off his jeans, slid down his bikini shorts so fast he could have been racing to a double orgasm, and piled them on the chair, making sure his underwear was on the bottom. Then he climbed on the table and pulled the silly excuse for a gown over his lap.