Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel

by Delaney, Tracie

  “Fuck,” Nate muttered. He forced himself to concentrate on delivering his lines. The second Jonathan shouted “Cut!”, he shot over to where he’d left Dex. He questioned a couple of the crew who were hanging about, but they hadn’t seen her.

  He scouted the set, eventually deducing she wasn’t there. What the hell was going on? She’d been fine when he’d left her. Maybe she’d been bored and gone home, but he doubted it. Rudeness wasn’t Dex’s thing. She’d have waited for a break and then spoken to him.

  What if something had happened, with her mom, maybe, or her sister? He called her cell. It went straight to voicemail. Damn it. He was stuck there until they finished that night’s schedule. His mood darkened, and he found himself snapping at a couple of crew members.

  Finally, at five to two in the morning, Jonathan called a wrap. Nate didn’t say goodnight to a single soul. He called her again on the way to his car. Still no answer.

  Forty minutes later, he parked up outside Dex’s apartment. On his way upstairs, he tried calling again. Lucked out.

  With his heartbeat thundering in his ears as concern set in, he banged on her door. Silence. He knocked again. Nothing.

  “Dex, are you in there? It’s Nate. Open up. I’m worried.” When he couldn’t hear anything from inside, he tried one final time. “Dex? Is everything okay?”

  Finally, he heard a sound, a shuffling. Maybe she’d felt unwell and hadn’t found the right break in filming to let him know.

  But the door didn’t open. Instead, she decided to hold a conversation through the damned thing. Well, conversation was a bit of an overstatement, because all he got was, “Fuck off, Nate.”

  His eyebrows shot up. What the hell?

  “Open the door.”

  “No.”

  He clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t mind her being pissy at him if he knew what he was supposed to have done. “Open the goddamn door.”

  “Go home.”

  He picked up on the slight waver to her voice. Time to press his advantage.

  “Not without you, Titch,” he said softly.

  All fell silent, and he expected to hear the rattle of a chain, the click of a lock. He got neither.

  “Aww, Sharla turned you down again, has she? So you thought you’d come take out your frustration and your hard-on with me? Because of course I’d be willing. Of course I’d be grateful. Superstar Nate Brook noticing little old me. Except I’m only a tool for you to use to make Sharla jealous. Right?”

  Shock slammed into him, and he actually took a step back, as if he’d been physically shoved in the chest. What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  “Wrong,” he bit back. “So fucking wrong, Titch. Where the hell did you get such a crazy idea?”

  This time he heard a lock being turned, but instead of Dex’s door opening, the one next door did. Nate found himself faced with a furious neighbor in her late sixties. She was wearing a floor-length pale-green nightgown—with a white bow no less—and a head full of hair curlers. He suppressed a grin. He guessed it wouldn’t be welcome.

  “What is going on out here? Do you know what time it is, young man?”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “Sorry won’t help me fall back to sleep without a cup of hot milk now, will it? It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that Dex doesn’t want to talk to you. Go home, son. Come back tomorrow, at a more reasonable hour.”

  She disappeared inside with a huff, slamming her door behind her.

  Well, shit.

  “Dex,” he hissed through the door. “Open up, will you, before Jessica Fletcher comes out and chastises me again.”

  He hoped slipping in some humor might soften her. He needed to find out what the hell she’d meant about Sharla. She’d obviously been fed some misinformation, and he couldn’t allow that to fester. He’d stay out here all night if he had to.

  Finally, he heard the chain rattle and the lock turned. She drew back the door. Oh, she was mightily pissed, arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked out to one side.

  Humor didn’t work then.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sorry. My vagina isn’t open for sympathy fucks this evening.”

  He held back a grin that threatened. God, she was infuriating, but also magnificent. Angry Dex definitely turned him on, although right then probably wasn’t the best time to share that thought.

  “Let’s talk.”

  He took a step forward, testing the water, his eyes locked on hers.

  She exhaled through her nose, spat, “This should be good,” and then plunked herself on the tiny sofa.

  He clicked the door shut and sat beside her, his ankle resting over his knee in a show of nonchalance, even though he was anything but. He tried to pinpoint when this thing between them had moved from a bit of fun to something much… more. Where he cared. A lot.

  “Okay, let’s start with you telling me what is going through that gorgeous head of yours.”

  Her lips flattened into a thin line. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this with throwaway compliments.”

  Nate offered her a crooked smile. “As soon as I know what I’m supposed to be trying to get out of, I’ll adjust my approach accordingly.”

  A hard glare, followed by a sigh, and then her chin dropped to her chest. “Is something going on between you and Sharla?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  He clenched his jaw. “I don’t lie.” Not directly, anyway. Keep secrets, yep, absolutely. But that was for my brothers, to protect them and Mom’s memory… “But in the spirit of full disclosure, Titch, we did sleep together. Once. Over two years ago. What I’d like to know is, who told you?”

  She lifted her chin. “I heard a couple guys talking when you were doing that scene. The one where you kissed. They basically implied I was only there as a way to get Sharla to sleep with you.”

  She almost turned green. He liked the fact she was jealous because it meant she gave a shit, but regardless, if he found those two fucks, he’d rip them a new asshole. He grazed his knuckles down her bare arm. “Titch, TV and movie sets are hotbeds for gossip. You can’t believe anything you hear.”

  She bent her head forward, her hair covering her face. He tucked it behind her ear to get a better look at her.

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just ask me, instead of all this… drama?”

  She twisted her lips to one side. “Probably.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  She exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, Nate. All this,” she swung her hand between them, “it’s so unbelievable. I’m out of my depth here.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I can’t go to New York with you. I’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.”

  His pulse jolted. No way. She had to come. He needed her. She’d stopped being a distraction to take his mind off being back home, instead becoming someone he wanted to introduce to his family, to show her where he’d grown up, the places he’d hung out when playing hooky. The alley where he’d had his first fumble beneath a girl’s skirt. Okay, maybe not that, but the rest of it. Yep, he wanted it all.

  “You have to come.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Pardon me?”

  Fuck. Wrong approach, dickhead.

  He rubbed his fingertips over his lips. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say was I really want you to come. I get it, Dex. This is new for both of us, but what better way to get to know someone than a short vacation.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes, a soft sigh spilling from her lips. “I don’t know, Nate.”

  He took her hand and prayed the right words came out of his mouth.

  “I’m so twisted up over you. I can’t even figure out when it happened. Maybe when you called me out that night at the club, or maybe the quiet dignity you showed in front of Bernard, when you’d have had every right to twist his balls until the fucker passed out. Or when I first got inside you and you looked up at me with those beautiful eyes that begged me
not to stop moving.” He knitted his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back. “Tell me you feel the same, Titch.”

  Their eyes met, her dove-gray one’s doing funny things to his insides. “I don’t want to get hurt, Nate.”

  He sensed a weakness and pressed his advantage with a soft brush of his lips against hers. He couldn’t promise not to hurt her, and damned if he was going to lie.

  “I don’t know where this is going any more than you do. But if we don’t try, how will we know what might have been? Don’t leave me hanging. Come to New York. Be mine, Dexter Nolan.”

  She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were full of tears. Surprise sent his eyebrows shooting up. Dex wasn’t the teary type.

  And then she climbed on to his lap and flung her arms around his neck.

  “I’ll be yours.”

  Chapter 13

  Nate knocked on Dex’s door, and the minute she answered, he waved the airline tickets in the air. “We’re all booked. We leave on Thursday.”

  Dex grinned and snatched the tickets from his hand. She scanned them, her eyes glistening with excitement. “Oh, this is so cool. My first trip to New York. It’s gonna be awesome.” She twisted her lips in pause. “We’ll have time for sight-seeing, right?

  Nate rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm, wonder if it’s too late to get a refund on your ticket.”

  She gave him a playful punch. “You wouldn’t.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t bet on it, Titch.”

  “Well, if all you came over for was to tease me, I’ve got better things to do.”

  She spun on her heel. He followed her inside and snagged her around the waist, pulling her against him.

  “Not so fast, little Dex.” He kissed her neck and snaked his hand over her breast.

  She arched into him, groaning when he scraped a fingernail over her nipple. “You don’t play fair.”

  “Correct. Now get your sneakers on.”

  She twisted in his arms. “Where are we going?”

  He tapped his nose and repeated, “Get your sneakers on. It’s Saturday, and we’re spending it together. You’ll be seeing your mom tomorrow, and I’m not going to have a minute before Thursday, so stop defying me, otherwise I’ll have to take you in hand.”

  She pouted and flounced off. He smiled at her retreating back. She was fucking adorable. He was definitely keeping her, at least for now. Was his record three or four dates? He wasn’t known for sticking around—he got bored far too easily—but Dexter Nolan had piqued his interest. These past three weeks had been a revelation.

  She finished tying her shoelaces. “Do I need anything else?”

  “Yep, a hat. And sunscreen.”

  She donned a baseball cap that had I might be small, but I’m ballsy stitched on the front, and slotted a tube of sunscreen in the front pocket of her shorts.

  “Okay, ready.”

  He flicked the peak. “Apt.”

  She grinned. “I know, right?”

  The traffic was hideous, and it took him an hour to reach Santa Monica pier. On the whole journey, Dex chattered excitedly about everything she wanted to see in New York. Despite his dread about the upcoming visit, he had to admit her enthusiasm was catching. He instinctively knew the trip back east wouldn’t be nearly as bad with her by his side.

  He parked as close to the pier as he could. Pulling on his own baseball cap, he grabbed a pair of shades and then took Dex’s hand. Five minutes later, he stopped outside the bike rental shop.

  “Excellent,” she said with a wide grin. “I want to do this in New York, around Central Park, although I haven’t ridden a bike since I was a kid.”

  “Then this’ll be good practice for you,” Nate replied.

  “Where are we going?” she asked once he’d paid the rental and they’d both been sized up for bikes.

  “The Strand. We’ll cycle down to Redondo Beach, stop for some lunch, and then cycle back.”

  Her brow crinkled. “That’s pretty far.”

  Nate shrugged. “Forty miles or so, give or take. It’s flat, though, so you’ll be fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but as they set off down the path, with the beach communities on their left and the Pacific Ocean on their right with the sun twinkling off its surface, she seemed to forget her worries about the distance.

  Nate pointed out a few sights along the way, and they stopped for a few minutes at Huntington Beach to watch the surfers and drink some fluids.

  “Can you surf?” Dex asked.

  Nate nodded. “I learned when I first came out here. It’s kind of a religion. I’m nowhere near as good as the locals who started surfing as soon as they could walk, but I can hold my own. I’ll teach you if you like?”

  She shook her head. “No way. I don’t like open water. I like to be able to touch the bottom.”

  He tossed his empty bottle of water in the recycling trash can. “Why don’t you like open water?”

  Her gaze became shuttered as she looked out to sea. A gust of wind blew her hair across her face, momentarily hiding her from view. She tucked it behind her ear. “When I was nine, I almost drowned.”

  Nate stepped closer to her and rested his hand on the small of her back. “What happened?”

  She let out a deep sigh. “I followed my sister and her friends to a lake not far from our house. Mom had strictly forbidden me to go swimming, saying I was too young. I ignored her.” She glanced up with a wry grin. “I wasn’t the best-behaved child.”

  “Shocker,” he said.

  She laughed, the darkness which had momentarily clouded her features receding.

  “Anyhow, I spotted Elva and her friends splashing about and having fun, so I jumped in and started swimming toward them. My legs got caught up in some reeds. Elva saved my life. It’s one of the reasons we’re so close. I love her to bits.” She shook her head. “I don’t like to think about it very much. So yeah, no open water for me.”

  Despite the sad story, envy curled deep within him. He used to have that kind of relationship with his brothers, and if he let them in, he could have it again. But he couldn’t take the risk. By staying away, he limited the chances of dropping his guard and spilling what he knew. That was the worst thing he could do. To destroy his brothers so heartlessly… no. Better for them to think he was a brooding, miserable asshole than risk telling them the truth.

  “Hey.” Dex touched his arm, jerking him from his thoughts. “You disappeared on me.”

  He curved his hands around the back of her neck and bent his head to kiss her, only briefly, but it had the desired effect of halting further questioning on her part.

  “Shall we go?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Sounds good.”

  A couple of hours after they’d left Santa Monica, they arrived at Redondo Beach. The path continued a little farther, down to Torrance Beach, but Redondo, in his opinion, had a little more going on.

  They secured the bikes and wandered around. Knowing Dex as he now did, he suggested hot dogs and ice cream for lunch which, if her beaming smile was anything to go by, scored a plus point for him.

  After an hour or so, they returned to their bikes and headed back to the path. It was much hotter on the journey back to Santa Monica, and after they’d been cycling for ten miles or so, Dex slowed down. By the time they reached Marina Del Rey and turned off the path to skirt the marina, she called a time out.

  She kicked out the bike stand and stretched her legs.

  “My knees are stiff, and my cooter is killing me from that saddle.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow. “Cooter?”

  “Yeah, you know.” She pointed to her pussy. “Cooter.”

  Nate threw back his head and laughed. “You are one crazy woman.”

  “You can laugh, but if I’m in pain down there, you won’t be able to visit, will you?”

  “I’ll lick it all better,” Nate said. He took a step—to tease her.

  She threw her hands out in front.
“Don’t even think about it.”

  He laughed again. “Okay, I’ll wait until we get home. A hot bath, and lots of tongue action, and you’ll be good as new.”

  “You are so bad.”

  He caught her around the waist and bent down for a kiss. “Yeah, so you keep saying. Still here, though, aren’t you, Titch?”

  “Cocky bastard,” she muttered, adding, “Anyway, if my cooter is sore, your cock and balls must be, too, surely?”

  “All in full working order,” he said, grinning. “When I first came to LA, I took up cycling as a way of getting my cardio in. Better than running on a treadmill in a gym, and if you get up into the mountains, you burn an insane number of calories. Anyway, the first couple times I went, I pushed myself pretty hard, cycling for four, five hours at a time. On the third time I went out, after an hour or so, I noticed I couldn’t feel my balls. I’m telling you, I shit myself.”

  She leaned forward, interested in the story. “What happened?”

  “I quit the ride, walked the damn bike home. And then I got on the internet. Turns out it’s pretty common, and I fixed it by changing the seat on my bike. It also helps if you change position regularly, and occasionally stand up to cycle, which is what I did today, because these rental bikes don’t have the best seats.”

  “Well, if we do this again, I want a cooter-safe seat.”

  Nate saluted. “Noted. I’ll make sure I call ahead and ask for one specifically. I’m sure they have stock out back.”

  She shoved him in the chest. “Stop teasing me.”

  He grabbed her wrist, yanking her up close against him. They were both sweaty from the bike ride, but he didn’t care, and from the way she pressed herself close, neither did she.

  “But it’s so much fun, little Dex,” he said, capturing her mouth. He licked along her bottom lip then slid his tongue inside. Kissing Dex could become his new hobby. At least the hobby he undertook when he couldn’t fuck her. That was his new favorite thing to do.

  “Think you can make it back?” he asked, loving how disheveled she looked, her face flushed, and her hair mussed from the wind and his fingers.

  She nodded. “I might take your lead and stand up a bit.”