I walkedinto a little tailor’s shop tucked into an alley that ran between two downtown buildings. A tiny sign in the window readPerfect Fit.
There was a mannequin in the corner, displaying a formal black tux and cummerbund, and two small racks held suit jackets in black, gray, and blue. The whole place could have fit into my tiny room for rent on Grand Avenue.
An older gentleman emerged from a door to a backroom. “Ah, you must be Branson Larkin. So nice to meet you.”
He extended his hand.
“Right, yes,” I said, reaching out to shake.
I could have explained I was Branson’s twin, but itseemed easier to just roll with his assumption. When I’d gone into work today, Branson had looked tired and stressed. He was supposed to be gearing up for the happiest day of his life, but all the planning was wearing him out.
He and Caitlyn had spent hours hashing out the seating chart. I’d offered to take this fitting off his plate. As the best man, I’d need to be fitted for a tux too, so it wasn’t a great sacrifice on my part.
“I’m Mr. Oleander. So nice to meet you.”
“You do all the tailoring yourself?”
“I do. My grandfather started this shop, and my father took over after him. It’s a bit of a family tradition.”
“Wow, I guess so. That’s cool.”
The door chimed behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder. Silas stepped inside, looking already perfectly tailored in a charcoal suit and pale pink shirt with lavender tie. Damn, this man could be a model.
He met my gaze with a tentative smile, and I realized he also expected me to be Branson. My heart dropped into my stomach, and I quickly looked back to Mr. Oleander. “Should we get started?”
“Yes, of course. Take off your jacket, and I’ll go fetch my measuring tape.”
I shrugged off my wool coat and Silas stepped up beside me, extending his arm to hold it. “Cait asked me to come over. She didn’t trust Branson not to go rogue and end up wearing a powder blue atrocity.”
I laughed. “He’s not that bad. I mean, I— Wait.” I turned toward him, surprised. “You said Branson. You could tell I wasn’t him?”
“Of course I can tell.”
“You couldn’t tell a couple of weeks ago,” I pointed out, perhaps unwisely.
Silas’s eyes narrowed. “Well, sure, I didn’t know there were two of you then. I had never met Branson. But now that I’ve been around you both, it’s easy to tell.”
“How?” I asked, intrigued. We’d fooled our own parents over the years. How could Silas so easily tell us apart so quickly?
“You stand different.” Silas hung my jacket on a coat tree and stepped in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders and smoothing the fabric. “You’re more relaxed.”
“So I slouch?”
He smiled, eyes flicking up to meet mine, causing my heart to stutter. “No. You wear an easy confidence. He carries more stress.” He shrugged. “But also, you’re always smiling.”
“For you, maybe,” I said, lips quirking.
Silas gazed at my mouth, and my body tightened at the thought of the kiss outside Taco Loco. Was he thinking about it? Did he still crave that connection as much as I did?
“All right, let’s get you measured,” Mr. Oleander announced as he rejoined us. “Branson, are you wearing an undershirt? If so, please take off your outer garment. I’ll get a better measurement that way.”
Silas raised an eyebrow as he realized I was playing my brother’s part. Hopefully he wouldn’t think I had set out to fool him.
“Uh, okay.” I unbuttoned my shirt, hyper aware of Silas watching me undress. God. What I’d give for us to be alone right now. I shrugged out of the sleeves, and Silas took the garment from me, leaving me in a thin white undershirt.
“Okay, better,” Mr. Oleander murmured as he unrolled his tape long my inner arm. “Mm-hmm. Good average length.”
I gave Silas a look over Oleander’s head, wondering if his mind was going to the same gutter as mine. He hid a smile andlooked away. Oleander moved on to wrapping the tape around my upper chest, then my waist. Then he went to his knees, to measure along my inseam.
