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“God, it’s beenages,” the stranger continued.“How are you?”
“Good,” Dax stiffly replied, disentangling himself from her.
She dumped an overstuffed duffel on the floor. “I tried calling you, but you never picked up or called me back. What gives?” She angled her head as she stared up at him, and the move gave me a good view of her face.
I sucked in a breath. A carbon copy of Gracie stoodright there, smiling brightly at him.
Yeah, Gracie had an identical twin. I didn’t know Mimi any better than I’d known her sister, but I knew enough to be aware that they were complete opposites. Whereas Gracie was sweet and laidback, Mimi was mouthy and rebellious.
Once upon a time, Mimi had also done her best to set herself apart from her sister in terms of her appearance. Not nowadays. There was no dark eyeshadow, no black lipstick, no facial piercings, no hair dye.
Maybe it was to honor her sister or in some strange effort to keep Gracie “alive,” but Mimi seemed to have adopted her “look.” She wore a minimal amount of makeup, most of which was focused around her slanted brown eyes—a thin coat of mascara, a subtle use of black eyeliner, and a gentle shade of gold eyeshadow. Her mocha-brown hair fell around her oval face in choppy layers. She’d put on a little weight in the right places, giving her some sensual curves.
The only thing that hadn’t changed about Mimi was her edgy clothing style. She wore a ragged tee, ripped jeans, a thin leather jacket, and wickedly cool knee-high boots.
As if she sensed the weight of my attention, her eyes shifted to me. The light in her gaze dimmed, and her grin slipped. She looked back at Dax. “Who’s this?”
Uh, apparently, she had no idea he was now married.
I sidled up to Dax and flashed her a friendly smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. I’m Addison.”
Her eyes narrowing in recognition, she pointed at me. “You’re one of the Davenport sisters. The oldest.”
“That’s right.”
Dax slid me a dark look. “Youwerea Davenport. Now you’re a Mercier.”
Intrigue gleamed in Mimi’s gaze. “Oh, you married into the family? Who to? Caelan? You look his type.”
Dax cleared his throat. “Not my brother. Me. She married me.”
Mimi’s eyes snapped to his. “You …” She trailed off, her brows slowly sliding together. “I’m sorry?” The picture of lost and confused, she bounced her gaze from me to him. Mimi then looked down, arrowing in on his ring finger. She blanched, her mouth going slack.“No,” she breathed, taking a step back.
Thrown by the horror and pain warring for supremacy in her eyes, I fought a frown. Dax didn’t look surprised by her reaction. He didn’t lookanything—his face was utterly vacant.
Wildly shaking her head in denial, Mimi fixed him with a cold, direct glare. “You can’t be married. No way.”
He didn’t correct her. He merely stared at her, his gaze unreadable.
“It isn’t true.” She dug the heel of her hand into her breastbone. “You wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t get married. Youwouldn’t.”
Uh, why not? Was she under some impression that he’d never commit fully to another woman after having lost her sister? She’d be right to an extent. I had no emotional commitment from him.
“This is”—she sharply swept out her arm—“I don’t know … Some kind of sick joke.”
Why would it be sick, even if it was a joke? I was missing something here.
She clenched her fists. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
“If I did that,” Dax began, cool and composed, “I’d be lying.”
An angry flush reddened her face. “You are fucking unreal,” she hissed, her fists clenched, the definition of spitting mad.
He sighed. “Mimi—”
“I cannotbelieveyou’d do this. What in the hell is going on with you?” she demanded, her voice becoming louder and shriller. “Why would you take a dump all over Gracie’s memory this way?”
A slight frown briefly pulled at his brow. “I don’t view it as disrespecting her memory in any sense of the word. I’m not certain why you do.” He winged up a brow. “Wasn’t it you who said she’d want me to get on with my life, not grow old alone?”
