No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy Read online

  “I’m merely concerned for your welfare. And for Lord Ruffington’s. How is my dog, by the way? Still in good condition, I trust?”

  “Bad news. Ruff died. He’s gone, Benedict.” I patted Ruff’s head by way of apology.

  “A big dog like Lord Ruffington is expensive to keep fed, and I know you don’t have the money. Enough is enough. I’ve indulged your little vacation, but now it’s time for you to come back to England.”

  “Never.”

  “Then I’ll come to California.”

  My stomach turned over. How had Benedict discovered I’d left London, let alone where I’d gone? When I swallowed, there was a bitter taste in the back of my throat. The taste of fear.

  “I’ve already organized my trip,” he added when I didn’t answer. “I hear the coast is pleasant this time of year. It’s the perfect time to join you on vacation.”

  “California’s a big state. You’ll never find me.”

  “I know exactly where you are. San Dante looks delightful. I’m even willing to do a little sightseeing before taking you home, so we can use the time to discuss your behavior.”

  My stomach was churning so much I felt like throwing up. With my bank accounts frozen, I couldn’t afford to skip town, not unless Ruff and I slept in my car. Besides, Santino had entrusted me with his house, and I’d promised to take care of it. As soon as they let my brother out of jail, I needed to be here for him.

  “If you come here, I’ll call the police. And as soon as my lawyer gets me access to our bank accounts, I’ll—”

  “Your cut-rate, bargain-bin lawyer?” Benedict chuckled. “My lawyer is head of the best firm in London, and you know what a good friend he is. Not to mention that I can afford to pay him, because unlike you, I have other funds to draw on. I’m afraid your access to our bank accounts will be frozen for a very long time.”

  Straightening, I paced to the windows with long, agitated strides. “I’ll make you a deal. All I want is the money I earned from my paintings, and for you to leave me and Ruff alone. You can have everything else. I’ll sign away my half of the house, just give me my money back.”

  “I won’t give you a thing. Either come back to England or get used to being poor.”

  “Better to be poor than go back to you, Benedict.” I hissed the words through clenched teeth, my rage surging so high it swamped my fear. “I’d rather starve to death in a ditch and let Ruff eat my corpse.”

  “You know I’d never let that happen to my obedient wife, or my prize-winning dog. What would people say?”

  “I don’t care what—”

  “Must run, darling, I have a flight to catch. But I’ll see you and Lord Ruffington soon.”

  “You’re not—” It was too late, he’d already hung up. I snarled the rest of the sentence anyway. “You’re not just a prick, Benedict, you’re the whole damn cactus!”

  He was right about one thing. I’d spoken to my lawyer that morning, and the courts apparently didn’t care that the small amount of money I’d been able to take with me was almost gone. If Benedict kept me cut off from the accounts in England, I’d better sell my paintings quickly or I’d be forced to beg for coins on street corners.

  Ruff lifted his head, dragging his heavy jowls off the floor. His eyes reflected my worry back at me.

  “It’ll be okay,” I reassured him. “Benedict’s title and connections won’t carry any weight once he leaves England. He’ll lose some of his power as soon as he gets on a plane. Besides, if he turns up here, you can bite him, okay?”

  Only I knew he wouldn’t. Ruff had been well trained by professionals. He’d never harm anyone he knew, even Benedict.

  Ruff dropped his head back onto his paws with a weary sigh, which I matched with a sigh of my own.

  “I’m going to double-check all the doors and windows are locked,” I said. “Just in case.”

  Ruff closed his eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Asher

  For two days, I managed to avoid having anything more to do with my new neighbor. But on Friday, while Kade got ready for his date, I couldn’t concentrate on my spreadsheets or the work I should be doing. I was too busy snooping on Iola.

  I figured if she was related to Santino they could have the same surname, so I started by running a Google search for Iola Martin, then I narrowed down the options until I found her.

  I squinted at the picture on the screen. The grainy black-and-white photograph was from a British newspaper and had been taken seven years ago, but it was definitely a younger version of my mysterious neighbor. She was wearing a wedding gown. The camera had captured her looking stunned, and not in a good way. She looked as though she’d accidentally gotten into a rollercoaster car with no safety belt and was staring down at an impossibly steep drop.

  Next to her was a man I thought must be her father, until I read the caption under the photo. The Honorable Benedict Appleby Junior, son of Viscount Appleby, marries Iola Martin.

  So my neighbor was married, but she was definitely living alone in the house next door.

  Digging further, I managed to find one more news article that mentioned Iola and Santino Martin. It was from a small San Diego-based paper, dated fifteen years ago. The article was a brief report of a house fire caused by an electrical fault. Iola and Santino had been rescued from their burning house by a neighbor who pulled them out of their bedroom window. Their parents had perished in the blaze. There was no mention of what would happen to the orphaned children.

  Next I searched for ‘Iola Appleby’, and the results that came up made me rock back in my chair. Iola was an artist, and she painted beautiful landscapes. Deep red sunsets and green forests that seemed to go on forever. Oceans dappled with light. Her work was for sale from a gallery in England, and it was expensive.

  “I’m going.” Kade sauntered into my office, freshly shaven and wearing an impeccably tailored shirt and slacks, along with a smug grin. “Wish me luck for my hot date.”

  “You have cat hair on your shirt,” I lied. “And where’d you buy that cologne, a dime store?”

  Kade laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out why Iola’s living in Santino’s house.”

  Most people found it hard to read my face, but my twin could see how annoyed I was about his date, and was clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.

  “I’m almost certain she’s Santino’s sister,” I said.

  “Really? How did you find out?”

  “Those slacks don’t go with that shirt. And do you really think those shoes are a good idea?”

  Crossing his arms, Kade leaned against the doorframe. “I know what you’re doing. My clothes match perfectly.”

  “How’s your eyesight? Have you had it tested?” I peered at his chin. “Is that a pimple?”

  “No pimples. And if my clothes don’t match, I’ll just have to dazzle Iola with my smile.” He gave me a demonstration, aiming his TV-perfect grin my way.

  I could only sigh, all too aware that my brother could charm anyone. Iola was almost certain to develop a crush on my twin, which was why this date was such a monumentally terrible idea.

  And as much as I didn’t want him to know what I was planning, I had to point out at least one thing.

  “If you like this woman, you’ll have to tell her we were the ones who got her brother arrested. I doubt she’ll still be dazzled by you once she knows that.”

  “Like her?” He lifted one shoulder. “You know I only asked her out because you didn’t want me to.”

  Widening my eyes, I clapped both hands to my heart. “No. Really?”

  He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, a date with a beautiful woman isn’t exactly a hardship. But watching you grind your teeth was the real prize.”

  I shook my head at him. Kade and I were close in a way that most people would probably find hard to understand. If I were caught on a train track, my brother wouldn’t hesitate to jump in front of me, sacrificing his life to give me an extra second to get
free.

  He also used to fart on my pillow.

  “Anyway, I’m leaving.” He pushed off the doorframe, and I waved a hand irritably, gesturing for him to leave faster.

  It would be okay. They were only having one dinner, and Kade was still in love with his old girlfriend from years ago, though he’d never admit it. Besides, he was only in San Dante for a few days. It wasn’t like he’d get so friendly with Iola that he’d object when I bought Santino’s house out from under her, and evicted her.

  Hopefully.

  Kade had barely left when my phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  A mechanical, pre-recorded voice came on the line. “This is a collect call from an inmate in the Vista Detention Facility. Press one to accept the charges.”

  Excitement tinged with dread rose from my stomach. I’d expected this call for months. There was only one person this could be, and only one reason he’d be calling.

  Santino Martin had finally learned I was to blame for his incarceration.

  My finger hovered over the numbers on my phone for a moment as I steadied myself. Then I accepted the charges and waited for the call to connect.

  “Asher Lennox?” Sure enough, it was Santino’s voice.

  “Yes?” My tone was flat. I wasn’t about to give anything away, but I needed to find out if he knew about Mason’s involvement in his arrest. My older brother was a DEA agent working undercover in Houston, and I was worried about him. Santino could still be in contact with members of the drug cartel.

  “You sneaky bastard,” Santino snarled. “The cops were watching me from your house. My lawyer showed me the surveillance photos.”

  “Who is this?” I injected some puzzlement into my voice.

  “And my lawyer has a copy of your development plans. Applied for the permit a year ago, didn’t you? You think you’re going to knock down my house and build some big fucking apartments.”

  That was exactly what I was going to do.

  I’d risked everything to buy the house beside Santino’s, just so I could call in the police to watch him, and eventually get him arrested. I’d paid more than double what the house was worth, and used my construction business as collateral for an enormous bank loan.

  As soon as Santino was sentenced, the last part of my plan would fall into place. I’d get to raze the house he’d been so proud of to the ground. Not just that, but joining his property with mine would skyrocket their value. My financial risk would be well rewarded.

  And when I built an apartment building across the enlarged site, my profit would be twenty-five million dollars.

  Santino and his associates had killed my mother. I figured my father and brothers deserved a twenty-five million dollar payday to keep them safe for the rest of their lives.

  “You must have the wrong number,” I said in a monotone. Though my blood was pumping hot, I was good at not betraying any emotion.

  “Ha fucking ha.” Santino’s snarl grew more vicious. “You knew they’d try to take my house away, didn’t you? But you were wrong. I’ve given the house to my sister so the cops can’t touch it.”

  He was the one who was wrong. The police had placed a lien over his house to keep him from transferring ownership. I’d made certain of it.

  “Whoever you are, you need to check the phone number you’ve dialed. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “When I get out of here, I’m going to kill you. Slowly and painfully.”

  “You should know it’s illegal to threaten violence over the phone, and I’m recording this call.”

  “You ice-cold bastard. Not breaking a sweat now? You will. Wait ’til I get out of here, then you’ll find out the hard way that I’m not messing around.”

  The line went dead.

  I dropped my phone, put my elbows on my desk, and dragged both hands through my hair, not feeling even a little bit ice-cold.

  This had all started a long time ago. Over several years I’d paid a small fortune to an informant involved with the drug cartel, and he fed me information on the dealer who’d sold my mother the drugs that had killed her. After I learned the dealer sourced his drugs from Santino, I knew they’d both have to pay.

  Two years ago, I saw the opportunity I’d been waiting for when Santino bought a beachfront home in San Dante. Convincing the owner of the house next to Santino’s to sell me his property hadn’t been easy or cheap, but it meant I could offer the house to a police surveillance team as the perfect base to take down Santino and his associates.

  Picking my phone back up, I dialed another number.

  There were three realtors working in San Dante. Though I knew them all, I only needed to call one. According to my contact in the Justice Department, Emmy Eaves had been selected to sell Santino’s house.

  “It’s Asher Lennox,” I said when Emmy answered her phone. “The house next to mine is about to come onto the market. It’ll be a criminal forfeiture of property, which means a forced sale. Let me know as soon as you get the listing.”

  “You want to make an offer for it?”

  “I’m going to buy it.” I could hardly wait to have photos of a wrecking ball going through Santino’s house delivered to his jail cell.

  “Then you’ll own two lots next to each other,” she said slowly. “Doubling the land size will change the council restrictions on what you can build.”

  I blinked, surprised. But there was a reason Emmy was the best realtor in town. Not many people would have figured that out, especially not that quickly. Her lightbulb was brighter than most.

  “That’s right,” I admitted a little reluctantly. “On their own, they’re single-dwelling lots. Joining them together will rewrite the rules.”

  “With that much land, you’ll be able to build up to, what? Six floors?”

  “Eight floors. Sixteen apartments.”

  She whistled. “No wonder you want to buy the place. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”

  The final call I needed to make was the most important, and the most dangerous. I had to call my contact in the cartel to make certain Santino hadn’t gotten word to anyone about Mason.

  Dialing Tank’s number, I let the phone ring twice, then hung up. It was our signal that I needed to talk to him as soon as he was alone and it was safe.

  Tank called me back a few minutes later. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and wary.

  “How’s my brother?” I spoke just as quietly, straining my ears for any background noise. Tank ran a bar, but he’d likely shut himself in his private office so he wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Mason’s okay,” said Tank.

  I let out a relieved breath. Mason and I had both thought his last stint undercover would be his last, but he’d been forced back to Houston after his girlfriend had been arrested. He posed as a bodyguard working for the cartel bosses, and the job was getting more and more dangerous. I dreaded the day Tank might call to say Mason was dead.

  “You’re keeping close to him?” I asked. “Remember, he gets hurt and your money stops.”

  Tank grunted. “I’ll keep as close as I can. I’m not one of them, ya know?”

  “I wouldn’t pay you if you were.” If Tank were a drug dealer, he’d be another one of my targets instead of an ally. I was just as determined as Mason to put all the cartel members behind bars.

  “The guy in charge is Diamond, and he’s vicious.” Tank made a spitting sound. “I can’t guarantee your brother stays safe. The only way it happens for sure is if Diamond goes down fast.”

  “Then we need to make sure Diamond goes down. You have a way to help that happen?”

  Tank was silent for a while. “I might know a way to expose Diamond and speed up the bust.” The words came slowly. “But I’d need a lot more money.”

  “How much more?”

  “Triple.”

  I gritted my teeth. Not because I wouldn’t give everything I owned to keep Mason safe, but because I didn’t have
the money. I’d be able to borrow more money as soon as Santino’s house was mine and I could revalue the land as an eight-floor development site. Until then I was stretched to my absolute limit.

  “Okay.” I spoke evenly, with no hesitation. “Help Mason get the job done, and you’ll get the money.”

  “Send the money now.”

  “When Mason gets home.” My voice was steel, and he didn’t argue. Besides, how stupid would I have to be to stiff someone with his connections? Tank knew all about Mason’s work, and the possibility he might talk was enough to guarantee I’d never cross him.

  I hung up thinking about the hustle I used to run when we lived in Mexico as kids. Kade and I used to set up a table on the sidewalk to perform a magic trick for passing tourists. I’d pretend to put a ball under one of five cups, then bet our targets they couldn’t tell which cup the ball was under. With Mom’s meager wages barely covering our rent, the trick had helped keep us fed.

  But on the days I failed and didn’t manage to bring home any money, Mason had to put himself in danger to make up the shortfall.

  Now it felt like I was running a large-scale version of the same sleight of hand.

  No matter how often I’d performed the trick in Mexico, I used to feel the same anxiety each time, knowing it was up to me to make the trick work and any slip of the hand could ruin it.

  It had been bad enough back then. But this time if I slipped up, the consequences could be deadly.

  Chapter Four

  Iola

  I’d told Kade I didn’t want to go anywhere fancy, so he’d picked a cute little Italian restaurant with delicious food. I was relieved my simple dress and flat sandals weren’t too casual, and even more relieved to see the prices looked reasonable. Though dinner would still cost more than if I ate at home, I could skimp on a few meals next week to make up for it.

  “You like your pasta?” he asked as we ate.

  “You cannoli imagine how good it is.” When I was nervous, I made jokes. Bad ones. “Do you spa-get-it?” I added.