“I really like you, Cass,” Jake whispered, his hands gentle on her upper arms. Charlie wondered if he could feel her quivering under his touch. “I mean, I’ve always liked you, but as a friend, you know? I don’t know what’s changed . . . but something has.”

Charlie nodded, not trusting herself to speak yet.

“The other night, at the pub,” Jake continued, “it was like I was seeing you for the first time. Amazing how you can just sort of . . . wake up to it all at once.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Jake smiled down at her. “To be clear, I’m not really seeing you as only a friend now.”

She laughed. “I’m getting that.”

“Good.”

“I like you, too,” Charlie said. And she did. Way too much, in fact. It was wonderful to know he felt the same. But what was she doing, complicating her sister’s life by starting something with Jake?

“But . . .” Jake pulled back slightly to look at her, though he still held her arms in his warm hands. “Is this too much? Too soon? After you and Brett . . .”

How could she possibly explain the real issue? It wasn’t about Brett, though Charlie had promised her sister she would handle that situation. No, the problem was that she was not Cass, but rather the twin sister Jake remembered serving him at the bakery when they were kids. Suddenly she was so tired of lying to him that she almost broke right then and there.

She blinked back tears. “Jake, I’m not—” Charlie began, but she couldn’t continue. Jake tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met.

“What?” Jake asked, his fingers carefully brushing away her tears. “Talk to me, please. Why are you so upset?”

She had to do it. Tell him everything and hope that he’d forgive her. But just then the front door of the bakery swung open, the bell ringing with the movement. Shocked by the realization that she’d forgotten to relock the door when Jake had come over, Charlie was startled and turned her head toward the doorway, prepared to tell the customer they’d have to come back in the morning.

It wasn’t a customer. It was Brett.

He was staring openmouthed at Charlie and Jake; quite aware he’d interrupted an intimate moment. It took him a second to compose himself, but then he cleared his throat and set the paper bag in his hands down on the table by the door. “I was worried about you, so I brought you some soup.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say. It’s not what it looks like? Except it was exactly what it looked like. Jake had taken a step away from Charlie, and now he stood at a slight distance with his arms crossed, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Anyway, you look like you’re in good hands,” Brett said, pressing his lips together as he glanced at Jake. “But I’ll leave this for you anyway.” He gestured at the paper bag on the counter and then shut the door behind him. She and Jake watched as Brett walked away, neither of them speaking.