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“She was wearing a winter hat,” Wren says. “He couldn’t see the hair.”
“It was probably the scar on my chin then.”
“Couldn’t have been,” Willa says, “because I was wearing one of Mom’s knitted scarves and it was wrapped around my face a dozen times. The blue one that matches our eyes, you know? She gave us all one for Christmas last—”
Wren clears her throat. “Focus, Willa.”
“Right, um, so he thought I was you for a split second. Then he knew I wasn’t. He couldn’t see my hair or my jaw and I hadn’t even said more than two words yet. He just knew, Winnie.”
My breath hitches in my throat as I think about what she’s said. Can Jax really pass the Triplet Triple Threat Test?
“Winnie, did you mention to him that you were an identical triplet?” Wren asks.
I shake my head slowly. “No, I didn’t tell him.”
“He passed the test, Winnie,” Willa says.
“He passed the test,” Wren repeats.
We created the Triplet Triple Threat Test when we were kids. We thought it was so much fun that no one could ever tell us apart. We all have different personalities, of course, so our close friends and family can figure it out. And as we got older, we found our own sense of style, independent from each other. Willa likes to dye her hair fun colors, Wren’s a fan of red lipstick and heels, and I prefer comfort over everything else. But when all that’s stripped away, and we’re deliberately concealing our identity, no one can tell us apart at first glance.
No one except Jax.
Wren speaks again, her voice even softer than before. “I don’t know what happened between you two, Winnie, but I think you should give him a chance. We always said that the man who could pick us out of a McAllister sister lineup would be the one we’d marry.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No. It was just a fluke. The first person to pass the test isn’t going to be Jax Whalen. Come on.”
“Why not?” Willa asks. “You have always had a crush on him, haven’t you? Something about him has always called out to you. Maybe that something was fate.”
“It’s impossible,” I say stubbornly as I blink away new tears. “He doesn’t even want me. He just wants a turn in the hot spring. And anyway, it’s too late. He left. He’s long gone by now.”
“Actually, he checked into Frosty Crest Haven this afternoon,” Wren tells me, “And I know the room number.”
“He didn’t leave town, Win,” Willa says, “even after you, Caleb, and I all told him to get lost. He’s still here. What if he’s here for you?”
I pick at a thread on my t-shirt. “No. It’s not possible.”
“Winnie…” Willa’s voice is soft, hesitant, and so unlike herself that I sit up straight, waiting to hear what she’s going to say. “You’re the bravest woman I know, but you’re being a coward. Woman up, get in your truck, and track Jax down. If not for yourself, for Wren and me.”
I blink. “Wren and you?”
“Jax Whalen is in Frosty Crest. One of us should experience what he’s like in the sack.”
“Take one for the team,” Wren teases. “He’s in room 121.”
“And remember,” Willa says. “Don’t be such a control freak. Relax. Have fun.”
“Have fun,” Wren agrees.
Then Wren disconnects the call without another word, and I’m left alone in the cabin to process everything they’ve just told me.
Chapter 8
Winnie
Fifteen minutes later, I’m still pacing the floor, trying to decide what to do. I could go to room 121, and shoot my shot, metaphorically speaking. I’d leave the rifle at home. But if he sends me away? I’d be heart shattered. It’s probably better to just let things end now before I fall even harder for him.
My sisters’ words ring in my head. You’re being a coward. Don’t be a control freak. Have fun.
