Their One-Night Twin Surprise. Karin Baine

      How was he supposed to forget something so amazingly honest after his recent experience of deceit?

      ‘I’ve been a bad friend to you lately. I’m sorry.’ There’d been a distance between them recently, which he’d created as a coping mechanism to protect himself, never thinking about the support Izzy needed. He thought back over these past horrendous months and thought of all the support she’d offered him after Janet had left.

      Izzy had been a constant on his doorstep despite his repeated warnings he didn’t want to see or talk to anyone in the aftermath of his ex’s revelation. She’d been the provider of home-cooked meals when he hadn’t wanted to eat and the confiscator of alcohol when all he’d wanted to do was drink. Ignoring his bad temper, she’d fought past his defences and dragged him out of the quagmire, so he’d been able to get on with his life when he’d truly believed it was over.

      That was the true definition of a friend. Not someone who muttered his sympathies and accepted her grieving was over because it suited him better than having to dig beyond a fake smile and talk about feelings. Now, seeing her here, eyes glassy with unshed tears, biting her lip to keep up the façade, he wanted to finally step up and be there for her. The way she’d done for him. She was the closest thing he had to family now. The only one who’d been there with him through the darkest hours of his life, and he owed her.

      ‘Don’t be daft. Aren’t you here, putting up with my mood swings?’ There was that smile again that he was learning not to trust when her eyes were cloudy with uncertainty and something else he couldn’t quite decipher but which made him feel guiltier than ever.

      ‘I wasn’t there for you after Gerry died.’

      ‘Um, I think you were.’

      He wasn’t expecting her to reference what had happened between them but there was a suggestion of that passionate encounter flickering like erotic flames in her eyes. Rather than complicate matters more between them, Cal chose to ignore the reminder. In conversation at least. ‘If something’s wrong I expect you to tell me and let me help. Okay?’

      ‘Understood. Now, shall we get the bill?’ She wrestled out from his grip and waved to the waitress.

      Cal sighed and pulled his credit card from his wallet. ‘I’ll get this. It’s the least I can do.’

      Izzy made her usual protests as she fished in her bag for her purse, but he grabbed the bill first. ‘Let me pay my half at least.’

      ‘You can leave a couple of pounds for the tip if you want.’ It was then he caught a glimpse inside her purse to see only a few coppers resting in the lining. Rather than embarrass her further, he tossed the loose change he found in his pocket on the table and made to leave.

      Something wasn’t right with Izzy and he wasn’t going to rest until he discovered what. And if he wasn’t the friend she needed he knew how to find the one who fitted that description.