'Which one?' I asked pointedly. I still hadn't met Sharnie's fiancé. Margaret looked at me, glanced back at the men and pointed to the average looking blond guy with his back to us.

'Oh thank fucking god!' I sat down hard, my legs giving out.

'Jessie!' Margaret chastised. Unlike Sharnie our mother was near fanatical in her piety.

I concentrated on my breathing; deep, slow breaths to bring my heart rate and quivering body back under control. The trembling legs had little to do with my sudden panic attack and everything to do with the memory of the weight of him against my hips as he plunged slow, and deep. The smell of him, vanilla and cinnamon mixed with that masculine scent all men have. The taste of his mouth, woody like oak from the scotch he'd been drinking.

I pressed my palms into the wood of the pews, pressed my thighs together as I remembered the feel of his ... 'You know one of them?' Margaret sat down next to me, breaking through my vivid memory.

'Yes,' I almost moaned as a tremor of remembered pleasure quaked through my nether regions. Margaret had stopped being motherly the first time she'd caught Sharnie having sex. Her coping mechanism was to start acting as a mature friend instead.

'The tall, black-haired gent. He was out with his mates the other night when I went to meet up with Karla and Lizzy.' I fiddled with my fingers, refusing to look up at him.

'Ah ... that would have been Greg's stag night. Did Ethan go home with one of the girls?' Karla and Lizzy had been my best friends all through school. They were a bit wild - not to Sharnie's extreme, but renowned enough that Margaret had no troubles coming up with her own ideas about what happened.

I nodded, finding the marble altar suddenly very interesting. Ethan. I hadn't even bothered to get his name. Jesus, other than excusing himself long enough to say goodnight to his mates before meeting me in the car park to walk back to his place, we hadn't stopped kissing long enough to exchange more than one syllable.

'Hmm,' Margaret mused to herself, pursing her lips before rubbing them as if she had just applied lipstick. It was my mother's deep contemplation look.

'What?' I asked unable to resist the bait.

Margaret shrugged, 'Well, that just doesn't seem like the Ethan we know. He's Greg's best man and Sharnie has always complained about how "responsible" he is. To the point of being a "killjoy" - well, at least that's Sharnie's perception of him.'

I let my eyes roam to him. My sex contracted at just the sight of him. He laughed. I gripped the edge of the seat hard, my knuckles going white trying to halt my body's reaction. I took a deep breath, and considered him for a long moment.

'I don't think his friends knew. He might be very good at keeping his nocturnal habits to himself entirely.' If that was the case, I decided, I liked Ethan even more in daylight.

'Hi, Mr and Mrs Buttler,' a nice male voice greeted my parents. I looked up to find Greg shaking hands with my father and kissing my mother's cheek before his eyes met mine with a touch of surprise. 'You must be Jessie?'

I stood and was surprised when Greg hugged me. 'Um ... hi ... nice to meet you.' I watched the surprise cover Ethan's face as he finally spotted me being hugged by the groom.

Greg pulled back with a smile and looked to Ethan, waving him over. 'E, this is Jessie, Sharnie's twin sister, the one she reckons you'd be a perfect match for.'

'Because we supposedly have the same size sticks up our arses,' Ethan explained taking my hand firmly. 'Shit, you two look nothing alike. I would never have known you were even related. I didn't even recognise you from the photos at your parents' house. You've changed quite a bit.'

I smiled politely but didn't dare talk. Ethan's hand in mine was making my pulse race with wantonness. Ethan was right. Sharnie and I were polar opposites in appearance and personality. I had sat watching my sister at her hens' party and even I found it hard to believe we were twins.

The music started playing. 'Think that's our cue.' Greg excitedly patted Ethan on the shoulder of the arm that still held mine. 'E mate, you can hold the pretty girl's hand all you want at the reception. Let's get me married to her sister first.'

Ethan dropped my hand and blushed slightly at having held it that long. It made me laugh as he returned to the altar with Greg. Margaret stood with a certain mischievous smile on her face and my father, Lou, was trying hard not to laugh himself.

'What?' I asked cynically as Pachelbel's Canon started playing. I rolled my eyes at how cliché this wedding was turning out to be. The two wild kids meet, fall in love, and settle down with a nice white wedding. Even the music was traditional wedding stuff. The wedding procession started. I watched my beautiful older ­­- by twenty-two minutes - sister make her way down the aisle.

In one respect this wedding was perfect for Sharnie. Anything that made her the centre of attention and object of envy fulfilled her lifelong ambition. It's why she became a model and had aspirations to be an actress. I knew Sharnie would be good at it too. She was a brilliant actress, making people see the person she wanted them to.

I turned my attention to Greg in an attempt to keep my mind away from my deceptive sister's abyss-deep character flaws. Greg smiled warmly, tears glistening in his eyes, and I wondered for a moment what persona Sharnie had created to parade in front of him.

Deep blue eyes staring at me over the groom's head tugged mine to meet them. While the whole room was focused on my sister, Ethan watched me, and in that moment I was powerless but to watch him back till we were forced to turn and face the front with everyone else.

***

The ceremony was short, beautiful and perfect. I stood waiting for the obligatory photos outside the church afterwards, chatting to friends and family while the bridal party posed. After a while I moved to find some shade to rescue my skin from the summer sun. Ten years ago I was called Casper by my friends but, while still not the bronze goddess that Sharnie was, living in Hawaii I'd built up a nice tan.

'You took off early yesterday morning,' Ethan came to stand beside me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, smiled and kept watching the goings-on around us.

'I had to spend some quality time with my darling sister.'

'Yeah, you two seem real close. What with you not being in the wedding party and all.'

'I've been overseas for a decade. Doesn't exactly encourage sibling bonding.'

'As I hear it, you weren't all that close before that,' Ethan continued. 'Greg tells me you two didn't even talk for a year or more after you left. Barely talk now.'

'Oh really?' I turned to face him, crossing my arms under my bust. 'What else has Greg told you about me?'

'Apparently, you're an uptight bitch who wouldn't know how to have a good time if it bit her on the arse.' Ethan smiled lightly as he reached around and pinched said anatomy playfully. 'I believe he may have been misled somewhat.'

I frowned. 'No, the other night was very much out of the norm for me.'

'Jessie,' Margaret summoned me across the church grounds, 'family photos, hon.'

I smiled and waved to indicate I was coming before stepping closer to Ethan. 'Look, I'm not as boring as my sister makes out, but I don't do one-night stands with perfect strangers either ... so ...'

'I'll keep our meeting two nights ago quiet. I'm not the bragger like some of my mates,' Ethan assured me.

I gave a half smile, 'Yeah, Margaret said that.'

I started to walk off when Ethan called quietly, 'Jessie?' I looked back and he smiled, 'it's nice to meet you.' I smiled and continued on as my mother called again.