Free Pitch Imperfect by Elise Alden

twin in the eye. “No.”
    “For fuck’s sake.”
    Ben shot him a frustrated look and strode out of the kitchen. He’d popped in unannounced, asking if Rob had noticed anything amiss that evening. Strange cars, “walkers” who didn’t carry any gear, shots in the night. The discovery of a body in the bracken a few weeks earlier had horrified the villagers and the police station was receiving an increase in what Ben called “hysterical Heaverlock” calls. Still, he seemed to be taking each one seriously, no matter how outlandish the claim.
    Rob followed his brother outside. He should have kept to discussing the recent spate of crime and sealed his mouth about Anjuli’s request. When Ben got on his soapbox only being called to duty or Mac’s promises to find him a wife could shut him up.
    “Anjuli Carver doesn’t deserve a second of your time and you’re going to restore her house?”
    Ben struck a pose Rob recognised as his own: arms crossed and legs set wide apart. They weren’t identical twins, but they had the same swarthy skin, height and build. At a glance they looked like mirror images facing each other across the driveway.
    “No, I indicated that I would think about it.”
    Ben snorted. “Was that before or after you offered her your gigolo services?”
    “Funny.”
    “Christ, man! There are plenty of lasses around to heat your sheets at night. Catriona Adams down at the station keeps asking about you. She’s desperate to find out whether the twin brother myth is true.” Ben grinned. “I’ll give her your number if you’re interested. Hers is thirty-six, thirty-two, forty-two.”
    It was Rob’s turn to be disgusted. When Ben wanted sex he found a woman, had a fling and that was it. He chose carefully, mainly attractive older women who were after a good time or going through a divorce and didn’t want commitment. Ben didn’t want to fall in love or have a family. He was married to the police service and God help the woman who thought otherwise.
    “Anjuli means nothing to me,” Rob said, smiling as he remembered her nervousness around him. “I’m calling the shots so you can relax about me falling for her again. I’m in control.”
    Ben didn’t look convinced. His demeanour suddenly changed and a harsh brutality darkened his features. “Anjuli Carver is a promiscuous bitch who’ll fuck anybody who can scratch her itch. Screw her brains out if you must, but make sure you dump her straight after. I’ll go next, keep her hot and wet before I tell the lads at the station to take their turn. Hell, I’ll stop in after my shift tonight and give it to her long and hard before I head home.”
    A snarl rose from Rob’s chest. “Stay the fuck away from Anjuli and tell your buddies if they touch her I’ll kill them.”
    Ben’s expression shifted to flat and cool. Cop mode. He observed Rob’s aggressive stance with the calm, violence-diffusing posture he assumed when confronting rowdy punters or hardened criminals. Then he smirked, and the rage that had taken possession of Rob trickled away.
    “Shit.” Ben had done his bad-cop routine and he’d fallen for it. A few seconds ago he’d been ready to attack his own brother and the fight would’ve been ugly. The testosterone-filled scuffles they’d had as teenagers had always ended in impasse, or worse, with Mac hauling them apart by the ears. Their little sister had a mean streak underneath her tender sweetness and she knew how to twist for maximum pain.
    “That was a great demonstration of control,” Ben said. “You’re delusional if you think Anjuli Carver can’t get under your skin. My advice is to walk away. Get as far as you can from Castle Manor and its new owner or she’ll break your heart again, little brother.”
    “You’re only eleven minutes older than I am.”
    “Wise enough to have kept my dick locked up if I’d seen her in London.” Ben mounted his motorbike. “Dinner here next week?”
    Rob nodded. He and his