No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy Page 18

  “Dad, this is Iola,” said Asher. “Iola, Edward.”

  Asher’s father stood up. “Nice to meet you, Iola. Welcome.” He raised his giant eyebrows. “Would you mind stepping out onto the back porch with me?”

  “Um.” I swallowed. “Ex-squeeze me?”

  Asher frowned. “What are you up to, Dad?”

  “Don’t worry, son. I want to have a quick word with her alone.” His father took my arm. “Come on, Iola. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Um.” I let Asher’s father lead me out the back door onto a small porch. The skin around Asher’s eyes tightened, but the fact he didn’t try to stop us was vaguely comforting. Though my anxiety level was ratcheting up and a million bad jokes were fighting to get out, I managed to clamp my lips shut.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, Asher’s father asked, “May I borrow your cellphone?”

  “Um,” I said again. There were so many jokes bubbling up, they were tangled in my throat. Wordlessly, I pulled my phone out of my bag and handed it over.

  He dialed a number. Faintly, I heard a woman answer.

  “This is your doctor,” Asher’s father announced. “After scanning your rectum, we found where you left your head.”

  He hooted with laughter.

  “You think that’s funny, you speckle-brained dinosaur?” The woman on the other end of the phone yelled loud enough that I could hear every word. “My ancestors on the Mayflower were bored with that joke. Rotten fish stink less than that joke. You’re so unoriginal you should—”

  Edward disconnected while she was mid-rant, and shot me a triumphant grin. “Trixie Watson has caller id and won’t answer if it’s a number she recognizes. Can you imagine how mad she is that I tricked her into picking up the call?” He chortled. “Hopefully she’ll come outside so I can see her face.”

  Sure enough, Trixie flew out of the house next door. The small gray-haired woman hung over the rail of her back porch, shaking her fist at Asher’s father. “You wooly-headed mammoth herder!”

  “Quit your bellyaching. I outsmarted you fair and square!” Edward all but deafened me with his bellow.

  “You couldn’t outsmart a crayon!”

  Asher opened the door. “Hello Mrs. Watson,” he called.

  “Hmmph!”

  “Come inside now, Dad.” Asher’s voice was perfectly calm, his expression placid. It was almost impossible to detect his exasperated amusement, except for one softly quivering muscle near the corner of his mouth.

  I followed them inside, and when the door closed behind us, Edward asked, “Now I’ve finished with your phone, shall I put it in the fridge for you?”

  “The fridge?” This dinner was starting to feel like the Mad Hatter’s tea party. If Nemesis appeared out of thin air and started smiling, the odds were good someone had slipped me some opium.

  “It keeps your phone’s radio waves from affecting your brain, and stops the enemy from spying on you,” Edward explained.

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Meeting Asher’s gaze, I silently begged for help.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” he said in his calm way. “Iola has the latest anti-surveillance software installed, and her case is lined with a radio wave blocker. It’s safe to give her phone back.”

  His father handed it over, his eyes wide. “Where did you get a radio wave—?”

  “Asher, stop encouraging him,” Mason growled. “And Dad, please dial down your far-fetched theories while we have company.”

  Carlotta directed her impressive smile at me. “Everyone should be free to believe whatever they want. Don’t you think, Iola?”

  I could tell she was just trying to include me, but being singled out made me sweat even more, especially because the house seemed crowded with big Lennox men and the beautiful Carlotta, and I felt overwhelmed.

  “Three conspiracy theorists walked into a bar,” I blurted. “You think that was a coincidence? No way!”

  Asher chuckled, getting the joke right away. The others stared blankly at me. Kade had moved into the kitchen to stir a saucepan of the delicious-smelling food, but his hand was frozen as he craned his neck to look at me. They all had to think I was a freak.

  Even worse, Asher’s father might think I was making fun of him. Oh lord, why had I made such a stupid joke?

  Then Kade let out a laugh, Mason guffawed, and Carlotta’s eyes danced with mirth. Even Asher’s father smiled.

  “Iola, you’re still hilarious.” Kade went back to stirring his pan. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Asher take you away from me.”

  “I love funny people,” agreed Carlotta. “Asher, get her a drink, for heaven’s sake.”

  Asher moved into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were coming home, Kade.”

  “When Mason called to say he was back from Houston, I got straight in the car to celebrate his safe return.” Kade sprinkled salt into the pan, then tasted the food. “Do you like curry, Iola?”

  “I’ve had naan for a long time, but I’ll happily tikka chance on it. I’d like to spice up my life.”

  Asher moved next to me, smile lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. But the others exchanged glances, and I groaned inwardly, wishing I wasn’t so nervous. So far, the only things out of my mouth had been stupid puns, and Asher’s family had to think I was weird.

  Asher lightly bumped his arm against my shoulder. “I ordered pelican curry once,” he said. “It wasn’t bad, but the bill was enormous.”

  “I must have gone to the same restaurant,” said Carlotta without missing a beat. “I ordered the clownfish curry, but it tasted funny.”

  “I went there too,” added Kade. “I had the pickle curry, and it was so good, I relished every bite.”

  “Is that restaurant on the moon?” asked Mason, his deep voice rumbling from his enormous chest. “Great place, but it had no atmosphere.”

  “What are you all talking about?” Edward shook his head, frowning around at us. “Fish? Pickles? I don’t want to eat anything weird.”

  Kade guffawed first, then a smile spread over my face, and Carlotta’s laugh filled the room. I was so grateful, I could have kissed them all.

  Kade sprinkled more spice into the pan. “Don’t worry, Dad. I promise tonight’s curry won’t be weird.”

  “I don’t know if I like curry,” grumbled Edward. “What about steak, Kade? Or ribs. I like when you make ribs.”

  Asher put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed, giving me enough of his gorgeous smile to warm me inside and out. “Not nervous anymore?” he whispered in my ear.

  “I love your family,” I murmured back.

  “Somebody’s got to.” Dropping his arm, he raised his voice to a regular level. “Dad, you can’t just eat meat all the time.”

  His father scowled. “Don’t tell me you’re mixing in vegetables, Kade. I don’t like them, remember?”

  “I know, Dad. I won’t feed you anything green.” Kade glanced at me and winked. On the chopping board by the stove I could see mushroom stems, carrot peel, and broccoli ends, but from Edward’s seat at the table he clearly couldn’t see over the big pots on the stove.

  Asher poured me a glass of wine. “You’ll have to excuse a little oddness from my strange family,” he said. “But at least the food will be good.”

  It was the first time in my life anyone had ever apologized to me for weirdness, instead of the other way around. A new experience. One that made me want to hug him.

  “Dinner smells great,” said Carlotta. “I’m starving.” She had her arm around Mason’s waist, and he looked down at her with a kind of awe in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe she was there with him. His expression was so raw and besotted, I had to look away. Their feelings for each other were so open, letting my gaze linger felt like an invasion of their privacy.

  “Do you always cook on your day off?” I asked Kade, relieved I’d relaxed enough to ask a normal question.

  “You think I’d let Asher or Mason make dinner?”
He snorted, shaking his head. “You can thank your lucky stars I didn’t.”

  “Asher’s a good cook,” I protested. “He made me scrambled eggs the other morning, and they were the fluffiest eggs I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Did he?” Kade raised his eyebrows. “My brother cooked you breakfast?”

  I blushed, realizing how that had sounded.

  “Kade, stop it.” Asher frowned at his twin. “You’ll make Iola uncomfortable.”

  “But I like when she’s nervous. That’s when she’s funniest, and she knows some great jokes.”

  “So does Carlotta.” Mason smiled at the woman by his side like she’d cured cancer. “She took the funniest photo for her Instagram the other day.”

  He launched into a description of what she’d done, and I gazed at Asher, taking the chance to admire his profile while he was focused on his brother. I loved the way they teased each other, with their love shining so brightly.

  Asher was ridiculously lucky to have a family like his. No wonder he was so loyal. What wouldn’t I give to have one person who loved me that much, let alone three?

  My heart ached, because this was everything I’d always wanted. But this closeness didn’t just happen by itself. They all valued each other for good reason. Whatever trials they’d been through, it had forged their bonds and made them genuinely nice people. I couldn’t remember having been anywhere I’d felt more welcome.

  Asher must have felt me staring at him, because he turned his face and met my gaze. His eyes crinkled, and they were as warm as I’d ever seen them. He was so handsome, my heart decided to take a vacation from beating. But it wasn’t his good looks that made me feel like I was glowing when he looked at me with such warmth.

  I knew him now. I knew how clever he was, how kind and thoughtful. How tender and loyal, and surprising.

  And there was one more thing I knew without a doubt.

  I was falling in love with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Asher

  My family loved Iola.

  Of course they did, they’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to.

  More importantly, she liked them.

  I watched her get over her nerves and start to relax, then to enjoy herself. I loved how she joked with my dad and brothers, and with Carlotta. I loved how she praised the food Kade cooked, how she asked Dad about his unconventional beliefs, how she seemed genuinely interested in Mason’s work. And how by the end of the night, she’d made plans with Carlotta to visit some art galleries together.

  I could barely drag my eyes away from her.

  Her dress highlighted her spectacular figure. It was cut low enough to give more than a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, and high enough that I could get an exact count of the number of freckles on her long legs.

  Every time she smiled, I felt an ache in my chest, which meant it ached all evening. And the urge to touch her was so strong, resisting it bought me actual pain. My hands were clenched so tightly, they’d become sore. My spine was stiff, and my teeth practically ground to stubs.

  By the time I drove her home, the awful truth had become terribly clear.

  I was in love with her.

  And nothing about my feelings was moderate, or logical, or controlled.

  Now I understood why Mason had sacrificed his own safety for Carlotta, and why my father and Trixie spent every waking hour obsessed with each other.

  I hadn’t fallen for Iola softly, with restraint, or with caution. I was all too aware she could change her mind about me. She could easily crush my heart and inflict the kind of pain I hadn’t felt since the day Mom got so enraged she’d screamed she wanted me to die.

  Was I even still fully sane? How could I be, when I was about to confess the full truth of everything I’d done and drive Iola away?

  Thinking about it, I was too quiet, and as I walked her to her front door, she could tell all wasn’t well. Her smile had turned into a puzzled frown, and instead of putting her key in the lock, she stopped and turned to me.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  I dragged in a breath, feeling moisture collecting on my palms and dreading her reaction.

  “You’re going to see your brother tomorrow,” I said flatly. The dead calm of my voice only made her frown deepen.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Asher, are you okay?” It was just like her to be concerned for me rather than herself. Her heart was so big that in spite of all she’d been through with Benedict, she was only thinking about why I might be unhappy, and whether she could fix it.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said, steeling myself. “Let’s go inside.”

  Ruff was asleep in the living room, but he woke up and struggled to his feet to greet us. When Iola took a seat on the couch, he sat as close to her as he could get. Letting out a sigh, he leaned heavily against her legs. Iola patted his head, and I was very glad she’d gotten him back. At least he’d be able to provide her with comfort, even if I couldn’t.

  “I told you about when we went to Mexico, and Mom dated a chef. Monday was his day off work, and even if there wasn’t much money for food the rest of the week, every Monday, he’d cook us a big meal and we’d stuff ourselves. We looked forward to Mondays the way other kids looked forward to Christmas.”

  Usually the memory gave me at least a moment of remembered happiness, thinking about how wonderful those meals had seemed. But my throat was dry as I focused on getting through a difficult conversation.

  “When the chef left, Mom dated Four-Finger-Frankie, the man who gave her the drugs that killed her. He was a small-time drug dealer with the Medea Cartel.”

  Iola frowned. “I’ve heard of that cartel. Didn’t they arrest a lot of those guys a few months ago?”

  I nodded, bracing myself to deliver my news, and made my voice as gentle as I could. “Your brother was involved with the Medea Cartel.”

  Her jaw loosened and her hand froze on Ruff’s head. Then she swallowed. “No he wasn’t. Sure he was arrested for drug offences, but he told me he was innocent and I believe him. The police arrested the wrong person.”

  “You haven’t seen Santino for years and—”

  “I may not have seen him for a long time, but he’s still my brother and I know what he would or wouldn’t do. A drug cartel is organized crime. Bad men doing evil things. That’s not Santino.”

  “The cartel was responsible for Mom’s death and a lot of the hardship my brothers and I went through.”

  “There’s no way Santino would be involved.” Her voice was flat and sure.

  “Your brother was one of Frankie’s contacts.” I held her gaze. “After connecting him to Frankie, I invited a surveillance team into my house to watch him. I wanted the police to take him down. My goal was for every member of the cartel to go to jail. That included Santino.”

  The shock in her face made my chest ache, but I couldn’t soften the blow.

  “You had my brother arrested?” Her voice had gone faint.

  “I did.”

  “You made a mistake. Santino has a good heart and I know he didn’t mean to do anything wrong. If he really was associating with a drug cartel, he must have been dragged into it unwillingly. Perhaps he owed someone money, or he—”

  “Your brother was a willing participant.”

  “That’s not true. And anyway, you don’t know how tough it was for him when our parents died.” Her cheeks were turning red. “Our uncle was going to send my brother to military school, and Santino couldn’t stand that idea. When he ran away, he had nothing. No money, and nobody to take care of him. He was only seventeen, and for so many years afterward, I was afraid he was dead.” She leaned forward to hug the dog’s big chest, turning her face to me so her cheek rested on the top of Ruff’s head.

  I nodded sympathetically, though it was Iola I felt for, not her brother. Santino had selfishly abandoned his younger sister and disappeared without a word. Iola
had just lost her parents, and for him to vanish at the same time was inexcusable. No matter what he’d been going through, I’d never forgive him for leaving Iola when she needed him most.

  “Santino’s not a bad person.” She spoke forcefully. “He told me he was innocent, so it must be true. He can’t have changed that much since we were kids.”

  “He trafficked in drugs and banked the profits.”

  “I’ll never believe that. This is my family we’re talking about. My flesh and blood.” She lifted her face from Ruff, her brow crinkling. “I’m going to see him tomorrow for the first time since I was thirteen. And now I find out I’ve been kissing the guy who had him arrested?”

  Her eyes were shimmering with emotion, her irises so green they were almost iridescent.

  I flexed my hands on my jeans. “I understand this puts you in a difficult position. I’m sorry.”

  “I have a lot to think about. You should go.”

  I nodded reluctantly and stood up, hating to leave things tense between us. But I had to give her space and let her come to terms with what she’d learned.

  She walked behind me to the door, and when I opened it, she said, “You’ve been drip-feeding me information. You told me the house would be sold, but waited to tell me you were going to buy it. Now you’ve added the fact you had my brother arrested.”

  “I thought it would be easier if you didn’t hear it all at once.”

  “Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?” She was in the doorway, her back ramrod straight, her jaw tight. She was holding the door, ready to shut it behind me.

  Thrown by her direct question, I gazed into her luminous green eyes and argued with myself. The secret I had left was the worst one of all.

  Confessing it now, on top of all the shocks she’d already absorbed would be the wrong strategic move. My best chance for understanding, if not forgiveness, would come later, when she was less upset.

  I relaxed my face, making sure my muscles wouldn’t twitch so I wouldn’t give anything away. “Nothing else.” It was the first lie I’d told her, and as soon as I spoke, I regretted it.