No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy Read online

  “As much as I hate to give you credit, maybe you’re right,” I admitted.

  Mason leaned back to tug his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Wait, I need to record that. Say it again, Asher, this time a little louder.”

  “Enough.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  Mason laughed. “Seriously, tell me about your property deal. You said you had to win an auction?”

  “I’m going to buy Santino’s house. The auction’s tomorrow.”

  “Santino’s house?” He gaped at me for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay, fine. Then I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “You’re my brother, and I want to support you. Call it a symbolic gesture. Whatever.” He waved a hand. “If you’re going to buy that scumbag’s house, I’ll be by your side cheering you on.”

  “All right. Thanks, Mason.”

  “Don’t mention it, bro.”

  “But there’s a problem. Iola might also bid for the house. She could be at the auction.” I looked away, because I didn’t want my brother to see I was both desperate to see her, and dreading it. I couldn’t explain feeling both things at once. It made no logical sense.

  “Wait. You don’t know if she’ll be there? You two still aren’t talking?”

  I let out a sigh. “It would have made things a whole lot simpler if I could have stopped myself falling in love.”

  “In love?” My brother’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I should have known better.”

  “Hey, that’s great news. Congrats!” Mason beamed at me as though being in love was something to celebrate. The poor, deluded fool.

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked.

  Mason jerked his head at the window. “He’s out the back. Honestly, I can’t look. I’m already going to need therapy.”

  Getting up, I crossed to the window. Dad was in his yard, completely naked apart from a pair of white undershorts. He was waving his arms and waggling his backside, his belly wobbling and his bare feet kicking up bits of grass.

  “What the…?” I started.

  Then Dad turned and I saw something written in thick black marker on the back of his undershorts.

  “Kiss my butt, Trixie Watson,” I read aloud.

  “Dad decided to dance out there just before you arrived. I’ve been hoping Trixie’s not home.”

  “Oh, she’s at home,” I said as our neighbor’s back door flew open and Trixie charged out. “And she’s about to fight back.”

  “Fight back how?” Mason moved next to me and peered through the window.

  “Tit for tat.”

  If Iola were here, she would have appreciated my pun. But Mason was too busy recoiling from the scene in front of us with a strangled sound of horror.

  Trixie was only wearing underwear too, and she’d written something across the front of her enormous bra.

  “Benedict Lennox is a big boob,” I read. Instead of laughing, I sighed, because I could only imagine how Iola might enjoy the joke.

  “Make them stop,” groaned Mason, his hands over his eyes. “Go and tell them both to put their clothes back on.”

  I grabbed my chance to slip away from the window and make a break for the front door. “Actually, I think this is one of those teamwork opportunities you were talking about, Mason.” I reached the door. “And you’re right, I shouldn’t try to fix things on my own. In fact, I’m going to let you handle this one. See, I’ve listened to what you said, taken it on board, and now I’m ready to share responsibility.” Opening the door, I gave him a solemn nod. “Thanks to you, I’ve made real progress. You should be proud.”

  “Asher, wait.” His face twisted, Mason stumbled toward me. “Don’t leave. I don’t want to have to go out there.”

  “You’ve got this, Mason. I believe in you.” I shot him a mock salute as I shut the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Iola

  “You look nice,” said Gloria.

  “Thanks.” I smoothed down my dress and turned away from the mirror to face her.

  We were at Gloria’s place. Or rather, at Mavis’s enormous, run-down, ramshackle beachfront mansion. Mavis wasn’t just a ViaGranny, she was one of the gang’s founding members. Now she was too frail to get out much, and Gloria had been living with her, taking care of her, for the last few years.

  Mavis spent all her time downstairs, taking long naps in an imposing master bedroom and watching a lot of daytime television. Gloria’s bedroom and living area were on the second floor, up a set of stairs Mavis could no longer navigate. Gloria had scattered artful decorations to make the place pretty in spite of its curling wallpaper and ancient paint, and it had an incredible view of the ocean.

  Ruff and I had been sleeping in one of the upstairs spare rooms for three weeks. That meant slipping into a bed that was usually already occupied by at least one cat and occasionally a giant rabbit, but I was grateful Gloria had taken me in. And I was even more grateful that she’d set aside a small area in the back room of the community center where I could paint.

  One good thing about heartbreak, I’d been doing some of my best work.

  “So you’ll definitely see Asher at the auction?” asked Gloria. “How do you feel about that?”

  She was lying on my bed, stomach down, propped up on her elbows with her knees bent and her feet in the air, chatting to me while I got dressed. Ruff was asleep next to her, his big body taking up most of the bed, so Gloria was almost falling off the edge.

  “Nervous. Afraid. Angry. Hopeful.” I tapped my cheek, examining my feelings to see if I’d missed any out. “It’s an emotional stew, with a bit of everything thrown in. And it’s been simmering for weeks.”

  “You haven’t spoken to him at all?”

  I shook my head. “If Asher wanted to talk, he would have tried harder than one missed call. He didn’t even bother to leave a message.”

  I was afraid my constant obsession with Asher was becoming annoying, so I kept my tone light. In England, Benedict had stopped me from making any close female friends, and I’d probably been taking advantage of Gloria a little too much. She’d heard me talk about Asher so often, it was amazing she hadn’t bought herself ear plugs.

  “Does it help if I vouch for Asher? Even if he doesn’t show his feelings, I know he has a good heart.” Gloria screwed up her nose. “I used to want to marry all three Lennox boys. I thought the four of us could live in a big house together, and life would be perfect.”

  “Aww, that’s cute. How old were you?”

  She widened her eyes innocently. “Early twenties.”

  I let out a laugh in spite of my nerves.

  “But seriously,” she said. “He’s a good guy. Even at school he was nice to everyone, and every time I’ve asked him to help out with raffles and community events, he always chips in.”

  “He never wants to fall in love, and I have to accept that. I’m not sure we’re even friends. If we were, he would have called and tried to patch things up.”

  What I didn’t say out loud—what I couldn’t say—was how much it hurt that he’d abandoned me without a word. My parents hadn’t left me intentionally, but they’d been taken away. And my uncle had sent me to boarding school because he hadn’t wanted me. Even Santino had left and never looked back.

  What if the problem was me?

  I needed to stop holding on so tightly. To stop hoping for things I couldn’t have.

  The one thing Asher had been honest about was that he didn’t want a relationship. So what if it hurt? At least it had been the truth.

  “The question is, have you forgiven him?” Gloria asked.

  I looked around for my sandals. “Not for lying, but I’m not sure I need to forgive him for anything else. When he came up with a plan to get Ruff back, I was happy he had a devious mind. So how can I stay angry at him for plotting against Santino before he even knew me?”

  The other thing I’d been thinking about was what it must have been like for Asher and
his brothers to have been locked in an apartment for three days, worrying about their mother, not knowing if she’d abandoned them. Three starving teenagers left without food, and Asher was the only one who’d fit through the window. Sacrificing himself to save his brothers was an experience that would stay with him for life.

  No wonder he thought he needed to make so much money. In his mind he was probably still carrying the weight of that responsibility. If his brothers needed saving again, he was going to be ready.

  “He should have been honest with you,” said Gloria.

  I nodded agreement. “When Benedict was threatening me, I can understand why Asher stalled. Afterward, he had no excuse not to come clean.” I spotted my sandals under a discarded T-shirt. “I’m been trying so hard to get over him. I keep hoping maybe I didn’t really fall in love with him, but with the way he made me feel.”

  Gloria rested her chin on her hands, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I married Benedict because I wanted a place in the world. So I could be Mrs. Appleby. Maybe with Asher I was falling into the same trap, making the same mistake again.”

  “Looking for somewhere to fit in, you mean?”

  “This sounds dumb, but when I was with Asher, I kept feeling like I wanted to belong to him.” Doing my sandal up, I let out an embarrassed laugh. “Not, like, in the slavery sense. I’m not explaining it very well. But I know he’d never let anything happen to me, and that felt really nice, you know?”

  She blinked at me, her eyebrows high. “That sounds like love.”

  “Does it? Or am I still looking for something I lost when my parents died?”

  “Isn’t that what love is, though? Two people knowing they belong to each other? Making each other feel safe?”

  I frowned, because I’d been obsessing over it, trying to decide whether my longing for family had been blinding me to reality and making me yearn for a doomed relationship Asher didn’t even want. But what Gloria was saying made a lot of sense.

  “Anyway, none of it matters seeing as he doesn’t have feelings for me.” I huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’ve tied myself in knots over something that’s never going to happen.”

  “At least you’ll get to talk to him at the auction.”

  I nodded, searching the room for my phone. “I’ll thank him for everything he did for me and say goodbye. Then I’ll be able to walk away.”

  I found my phone under a pile of clothes and when I glanced at the screen, my heart dived. “Oh crap, I’m going to be late!” Grabbing my handbag, I stuffed my phone in it. “Wish me luck?”

  She scrambled up from the bed, and Ruff gave a little sigh before his snores started again. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come? I can see if Mavis won’t mind having a late lunch, and—”

  “Thank you, but Mavis will probably mind, and you have to get ready for your art class.”

  “Have you decided whether you’re going to buy your brother’s house?”

  I paused on my way to the door. For the last three weeks, I’d been going back and forth, endlessly weighing pros and cons.

  With the divorce papers signed, my bank accounts had been unfrozen and my lawyer had transferred a shockingly large settlement to me. When I’d questioned the amount, he’d told me almost angrily that it was only what was rightfully mine, the proceeds from my paintings and my portion of the marital assets, and after the way Benedict had treated me it had pained him not to fight for more.

  I didn’t care what Benedict had been left with, I was just pleased I could afford to buy a house. The question was whether I should buy Santino’s. And the only reason I was considering it was because of the joy it had given me. Walking in for the first time, I’d already been relieved beyond words that Ruff and I were finally free from Benedict. When I’d seen the photo of my brother on the mantel, I’d burst into tears. It had felt like something precious I’d lost a long time ago was finally back within my reach.

  Even now, I still wanted to visit Santino in jail, to try to have some kind of relationship with him, even if it was a cautious one. Maybe I was a fool, but I wasn’t ready to give up on him yet.

  “I only lived in the house a few weeks, but they were the happiest weeks of my life,” I said wistfully.

  “Then you should buy the place and live there forever.”

  “But Asher wants it.”

  “You still haven’t decided, have you?”

  “I’ll decide when I get there,” I said as I left.

  “Good luck!” she yelled after me.

  I’d wanted to get to the auction room early to have a chance to talk to Asher. But when I arrived, all the buyers were seated in rows of chairs, and there were a surprising number of people holding paddles. The auctioneer was stepping up to the podium on the small stage, his gavel in hand, but Emmy Eaves was still hurrying between different bidders, offering words of encouragement. When she saw me, her smile widened.

  “There you are!” Emmy handed me a paddle with a number on it. “Just in time, we’re about to start.”

  I mumbled something, but my attention was focused on the two men I’d spotted in the back row.

  Mason was with Asher. Their heads were together, and they were talking quietly. I wasn’t surprised they were both there, seeing as they always looked out for each other.

  My throat closed up as I gazed at Asher’s profile. Most of the time I’d stopped thinking about how good looking he was, because so many more things about him were more important. But it felt like I was seeing him again for the first time, my heart flipping over as I gazed at the sweep of eyelashes from his gunmetal gray eyes, and the sharp angle of his jaw.

  Then he looked up and his gaze burned into mine.

  “Welcome everyone,” said the auctioneer from the stage, but I could hardly hear him over the pounding of my heart.

  I’d spent the last three weeks arguing with myself, uncertain about everything. It felt like I’d been throwing so many colors onto the canvas in my head, it had become a muddy mess I couldn’t make sense of. But at that moment, staring into his eyes, the picture became clear.

  I loved Asher.

  I wanted to be with him.

  Even if he didn’t feel the same way, I couldn’t buy the house next to him, because he wanted it, and therefore I wanted him to have it.

  Besides, he’d made it clear he didn’t share my feelings, which probably meant I’d need to move away from San Dante. The only way I’d ever have a chance of getting over him was if I didn’t have the fear of accidentally running into him when I wasn’t braced for the impact.

  Coming to the auction had been a mistake. The room was crowded, the auctioneer was already speaking into the microphone, and this was no place to talk.

  Asher said something to his brother before standing up. Mason gave me a wave as Asher made his way over to me. I tried to wave back but my limbs felt stiff and awkward.

  The auctioneer was talking about the house but Asher ignored him, striding toward me with his paddle in one hand. His expression was more worried than I’d ever seen it, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark.

  I took a step back, glancing toward the door. The bidding was about to start, and my presence was clearly distracting Asher.

  “Iola.” He caught my arm with his free hand and his proximity made me dizzy. “I’m glad you came.”

  “We should talk,” I said. “But not now. We can sort things out later.”

  “I’m sorry for not telling you the whole truth earlier.” His voice was low and urgent. “And you should know the house isn’t as important to me as you are. If you want to buy it, I won’t bid against you.”

  “Who wants to start the bidding?” asked the auctioneer. Someone raised their paddle and he pointed to them. “Thank you, sir. Your opening bid is one million, eight hundred thousand dollars. Do I hear nine hundred thousand?”

  My head was spinning and if my throat weren’t so tight I’d ask Asher to repeat what he’d just said. Could h
e really be telling me he was willing to hand over a house that would make him twenty-five million dollars?

  But there wasn’t time for questions. The auctioneer was taking another bid from a woman in the front row. “We can talk later,” I croaked. “The auction’s started and you need to buy the house.” I tried to pull my arm from his grip.

  “Iola, don’t disappear. Please.” His usually calm voice was thick with emotion. “I can’t let you go.”

  “But it’s twenty-five million dollars. If you don’t bid, you’ll lose all that money. I don’t want the house. I’m not going to buy it.” To prove it, I dropped the paddle Emmy had given me on the floor.

  “The money doesn’t matter as much as you do.”

  My heart expanded, filling with so much hope it all but stopped beating. All I wanted was to ask if he could really be saying what I thought he was. But he was wrong about one thing: the money did matter. If he didn’t buy the house because of me, the cost would be too high to contemplate. I couldn’t let that get between us.

  “Do I hear two million and twenty thousand?” asked the auctioneer.

  The woman in the front row raised her paddle again.

  “Thank you, ma’am. Now, who’s going to make it two million twenty-five?”

  “Asher, please let me go.”

  He released me, but he still hadn’t so much as glanced at the auctioneer. His paddle dangled, forgotten from one hand. If I stayed in the room, he wouldn’t focus on what was important, and I needed him to do his financial deal so we could move on.

  “Buy the house,” I told him with all the force I could muster. Then I turned and fled for the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Asher

  I called after Iola as she ran out of the auction room. It felt like she was taking part of me with her. All I cared about was making things right with her. If I let her go, anything might happen. She could leave the country. I might never find her again.

  “Asher, what are you doing?” Mason had joined me at the back of the room, but I couldn’t listen to him any more than I could listen to the auctioneer who was about to sell Santino’s house to someone else.