Command Control. Sara Jane Stone

bar stool. With his wavy dark brown hair, piercing brown eyes and muscles even his cargo shorts and loose black T-shirt couldn’t hide, the man defined ruggedly handsome.

      She turned her head to one side, her eyes narrowing. He seemed strangely familiar. Studying his backside as he walked toward the door, she knew. Mr. Ruggedly Handsome looked like Hugh Jackman when he’d played Wolverine in the X-Men movies—minus the facial hair—from his serious expression to his ready-for-battle body.

      He walked with grace and purpose. Part of her wanted to go after him, find out if he was available and interested. But she couldn’t. Not right now. Her sister would be here any second. As long as she was in Mount Pleasant, her family came first. Everything else, from work to drool-worthy strangers, needed to take a backseat.

      The door opened and he disappeared into the sunshine, leaving Sadie to her reading.

      “There you are.” Laurel, Sadie’s twin, enveloped her in a big hug. They might have been born the same day, but the similarities ended there. Sadie had inherited their father’s Irish coloring, while Laurel looked like the all-American girl next door with her blond hair and blue eyes. A very pregnant girl next door.

      “Careful, you’ll crush the baby,” Sadie said, struggling to maintain her balance on the barstool.

      Laurel squeezed tighter. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

      “You said you needed me.”

      “I know. And you always come through for me. But this time you’re here. For a whole month. I never thought you’d leave New York for that long.”

      “I can barely believe it myself.”

      An entire month in small-town Vermont, away from the hustle and bustle of her everyday life in New York City, away from sushi delivered to her doorstep, away from her quiet writing space. Of course, she could work here. She could write anywhere. But still, she was here. For Laurel. For once, she was trying to put her sister first, to tip the scale between personal life and professional.

      “Sit. Please,” Sadie said, pulling away from her twin’s embrace. “You look like you should be resting with your feet up. You’re...”

      “Enormous?” Laurel said with a wide grin.

      “That wasn’t the word I was looking for.”

      “Only for another month.” Her sister took her hand and squeezed. “I can’t believe you’ll be here when the baby arrives. I asked Dad to come up, too, but he said the trip was too expensive.”

      Sadie frowned, her wineglass hovering close to her lips. “I sent him an extra check with a note to buy a plane ticket.”

      “Oh, well, he didn’t mention it,” Laurel said, the excitement in her eyes dimming.

      Damn him, Sadie thought. Her father might begrudge her charity, but he didn’t have to take it out on Laurel. As far as Sadie was concerned the monthly checks weren’t a handout. Their father had worked hard to provide for his twin girls after their mother had passed away when they were babies. Now it was Sadie’s turn to take care of him. She had the money to ensure they stayed afloat. And with the way her book had taken off, she could do a lot more than pay the bills. But her father and sister would only accept so much.

      Laurel shrugged. “It’s just as well. I don’t know where I’d put him. We barely have room for you and the baby.”

      Sadie set her wineglass on the bar. “I found someplace else to stay.”

      Laurel’s brow furrowed. “You’re staying with us. After all you’ve done for us, the checks you sent when I lost my job, we owe you. I can’t repay the money, but I can feed and house you for the next month. Please, Sadie. Let me do this for you. I promise to bake your favorite cookies.”

      “I’d be in the way on your couch.” Laurel and her husband rented a cramped one-bedroom cottage outside of town. And while Sadie lived in a Manhattan apartment the size of a shoe box—albeit one with a Central Park view—it had been years since she’d shared her living space with her twin. They’d fought day and night back then. She couldn’t imagine it would be better now that Laurel was eight months pregnant.

      “I saw an ad online for a guesthouse rental on the neighboring farm,” she continued. “I called and it was available. This way you will have some time with Greg before the baby arrives and I will have space to write. I have a book due soon.”

      “Lou’s guesthouse?”

      Sadie nodded. “I spoke with a woman named Louise Reed.”

      “Everyone calls her Lou.”

      “Well, I’m staying in Lou’s guesthouse,” Sadie said firmly. “But that does not change the fact that I’m here for you. I’m going to be the best big sister.”

      “You’re five minutes older. I don’t think that counts,” Laurel said, her eyes brimming with tears. It was an old argument. One they’d joked about for years. “But thank you,” her twin added. “For everything. I appreciate the money. We wouldn’t have survived without it. Still, having you here means even more to me. And one day, I’m going to find a way to repay you. When you need me, I’ll be there. I promise.”

      Those heartfelt words sent a wave of guilt crashing down on her. She was here for her sister. Mostly.

      She glanced around the spacious restaurant, unable to meet her twin’s gaze. Everything about the place was quaint and welcoming. At the back, they’d kept the old sliding door from when the building had been a barn. High up in the A-frame ceiling, light poured in through long horizontal windows. This place was a world away from her life in Manhattan. But when she went back, her life wouldn’t be the same. Not even close.

      “You don’t have to feel guilty,” Laurel said, as if reading her mind. Sadie had never been able to hide anything from her twin. It was a little scary how easily Laurel knew what Sadie was thinking. But the connection did not run both ways, which was just plain unfair.

      “I know you had to get away before the world learns about your secret identity,” Laurel continued.

      In a few weeks, everyone would know she’d written the erotica novel everyone was talking about—Isabelle’s Command by MJ Lane. Sadie would be on national TV promoting the release of the second book in the series. She felt a wave of excitement just thinking about it.

      But two weeks earlier, a small problem had threatened her carefully planned reveal. She’d caught a photographer outside her building when she’d gone out for a bagel. Thankfully, she’d spotted him first and quickly covered her face with her arms. She’d heard the camera’s click, click, click, but knew he’d only caught shots of a faceless red-haired woman walking into her building.

      Of course, he’d still tried to save his story by calling her publicist to verify the woman in the pictures was MJ Lane before printing them. Her publicist had lied, telling the man no. But not all of them would fact-check. If she wasn’t careful, she would not be able to keep her secret until the release of her second book. Another tabloid reporter might run the story on a hope and a prayer that the facts were correct.

      Telling the world Sadie Bannerman was MJ Lane—it would happen. And she was determined to make the most of the story. This was her career, her future, her everything.

      But it needed to unfold according to her plan. Here, in rural Vermont, there was very little chance her secret would get out before her next book release. Her big disclosure would be perfect.

      Almost.

      Once the world learned who she was, she knew her relationships, already strained from the time and energy she poured into her work, would be marked with a big fat F for failure. She’d have less time for her sister. And her father? She hadn’t asked him, but she had a hunch he didn’t like the idea of the whole world knowing she wrote erotica. He acted as if taking the money she made from her work was a cardinal sin.

      She might not be able to set things right