Secrets Collide (Bluegrass Brothers)

sitting in one of the armchairs in the comfortable reading nook that filled the space between the two rooms.
    “Good evening, Cyland. Is there something I can get for you?” Cy depended on years of training to not show his surprise. His roommate during training had thought Cy was joking when he told him about the three sisters from his hometown who could bring the whole government to their knees if they wanted. But he was serious. They had eyes in the back of their head and he was pretty sure they could read minds.
    “Good evening, Miss Lily. I was just checking to see if Gemma needed anything before I went to bed,” he said as he shot his most innocent look to Miss Lily.
    “Humph. And I’m here because I like the view. Has anyone ever told you that you're a bad liar?” Miss Lily set down her knitting and drilled him with a knowing look as she picked up her broom and pretended to sweep the floor.
    “Actually,” Cy paused, “no. You’re the first. Others thought I was so good the U.S. government put me undercover. You could say I’m a professional liar, so much so Cy Davies has ceased to exist for many years now.”
    Miss Lily swatted him on the bottom with her broom and glared at him. “Nonsense. You’re a spy. It’s a job. It’s what you do, not who you are. You’re the same boy who used to help my sisters unload their groceries and who rescued that poor cat that got stuck in the tree out front there. You just need to remember that and stop lying to yourself about who you are. Now,” Miss Lily said with finality, “it’s time for bed. Off with you.”
    Cy chanced a quick glance at Gemma’s door that didn’t go unnoticed. “Good night, Miss Lily.” Cy may have lost the battle, but he hadn't lost the war. He shot Miss Lily a smile as she put her broom down and picked up her knitting. She had reminded him of the mighty cat rescue and now he had an idea.
     
    Gemma took a deep breath of the night air and enjoyed the inspiration from the stars twinkling in the dark sky. What was she doing wrong?
    “Mom . . . I don’t want to wear the same thing as Gia.” Gemma stomped her pre-teen foot on the ground and crossed her arms.
    “You’re twins. You’re the only ones who can get away with wearing the same outfit. It’s cute. Now put it on.” Her mother handed her the matching floral dress.
    “While we may be twins, we’re not the same person. I hate flowers and Gia loves them. It’s not fair.”
    Gemma felt her heart speed up. That was it. They aren’t the same person. Gemma hurried back to her seat, pulled out her cell phone, and starting scrolling through her contacts.
    She was sending texts when she suddenly felt as if she were not alone. A hand came down and suddenly covered her mouth before she could scream. A strong arm wrapped around her chest, pinning her to her chair. She felt the man press her body tight to his as he lowered his head to her ear.
    Gemma tensed as she felt his warm breath on her neck. “You look so beautiful when you’re concentrating.” His hand left her mouth and Gemma whipped around and smacked Cy’s stomach.
    “You scared me to death!” she hissed. “How did you get in here? My door is locked.”
    “I came in through the window. You have a guard dog outside the door—about five feet, white curly hair, sensible shoes, and large knitting needles.” Cy leaned against the table and pulled her from her chair to stand between his legs. “It’s good to see you again.”
    Gemma snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. He smiled down at her and she couldn’t help but notice his eyes were darker tonight right before he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her softly but soon his hands were sliding downward as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth while his hands were busy pulling up the hemline of her jersey skirt.
    They were combustible, Gemma decided. He made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world and he couldn’t breathe unless he had her right then and there. That feeling gave her such a rush.
    The knock at the door had her jumping back. “Miss Lily,” she whispered as she looked around for a place to hide him.
    “Gemma, dear? May I come in?” came the inquiry through the door. She turned back around and Cy was gone.
    “Coming,” she called out. “Cy?”
    “Over here.” Gemma looked and then saw the very edges of his fingers on the windowsill.
    “Oh my God.” Gemma rushed over to