No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

He struggled to his feet, his tail wagging. He clearly had no idea he’d been disrespected by an animal smaller than one of his jowls.

  I’d started toward the hallway before the events of last night came flooding back. Benedict had turned up. And Asher had slept on my couch. Was he still here? I might have woken him up by talking to Ruff, and I was only wearing a T-shirt and sleep shorts.

  Peeking into the living room, I saw Asher was sitting up on the couch.

  “Hey, you’re still here,” I said.

  “It’s early.” He stood, stretching his back as though the couch had made him stiff. He wore gray pajama pants and a black T-shirt, sticking to his habit of wearing dark clothing even in bed. Freshly awake, he was as good-looking as ever. His hair wasn’t messy, no drool, and I hadn’t heard him snore. Not that I was likely to have heard him over the noise Ruff made, which came close to the volume of a plane repeatedly taking off and landing.

  I ran a hand over my messy hair and smoothed my T-shirt, conscious of how disheveled I must look. Benedict would have made a snide remark about it. At least with the lingering scent of my oil paints in the air, I didn’t have to worry about Asher getting a whiff of my morning breath.

  “Did you see Nemesis?” I asked.

  He shook his head, not looking surprised by the question. “Did she steal anything?”

  “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.” I couldn’t admit to losing another pair of panties before I’d had a cup of coffee.

  “I checked all your windows were secure before I went to sleep.”

  “I think you were right. At least one of her parents had to be a shadow.”

  He ran his hand over his hair, roughing it up. But when he dropped his hand, his hair settled perfectly back into place.

  Like magic.

  “Maybe you’re a warlock, and Nemesis is your familiar,” I mused aloud.

  Small creases appeared in the corners of his eyes, telling me he was amused. “You guessed my secret. Has my spell been working on you?”

  I opened my mouth to say a heartfelt ‘Yes’, then shut it again, because he was clearly joking and I definitely needed coffee before I blurted any embarrassing truths.

  “I’ll get cleaned up, then make coffee.” I started backing out of the room. “I’d offer to make you breakfast to go with it, but the best I can do is toast and even then I might burn it.”

  “I’ll cook breakfast,” he offered.

  I stopped. “You can cook?”

  “My brother’s a chef. I’ve learned a few things.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” I studied his face. “Funny that you and Kade are twins when you’re so different. You don’t even look alike.”

  “Most people think we do.”

  “Kade’s so much lighter than you are.”

  “You think I’m heavy?”

  He was obviously teasing, but I tried to explain. “If Kade were a painting, he’d be pop art. Like an Andy Warhol screen print.”

  “Don’t let Kade hear you compare him to a Campbell’s soup can. He makes his soup from scratch.”

  “Okay, maybe he’s one of Banksy’s quirky artworks. Gorilla in a Pink Mask.”

  Asher’s eyes lightened even more, and the creases deepened in their corners. “Do me a favor and tell him that when I’m around. I’d like to see his face.”

  I was warming to my theme and wouldn’t let him throw me off. “And you’d be a…” I considered it a moment.

  “Don’t say a Van Gogh.” He lifted his hand to the side of his head. “I like my ear where it is.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely a Van Gogh. He’s my favorite artist. His paintings are deceptively simple, with layers of amazing brush work.”

  His eyebrows hooked up. “That sounds like a compliment.”

  He was clearly pleased. I was getting the hang of reading his small facial cues, like a diner discovering the delights of subtle flavors.

  “A big compliment. Huge. So now you’ll make me pancakes for breakfast?” I arched my brows.

  He let out a chuckle that was so warm, I wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. The thing about him being frugal with showing emotion was the wallop it packed when he did.

  “You’re devious.” He gave an approving nod. “I like that about you.”

  Ruff plodded to the back door, and I opened it so he could go out to the back deck and poop on the fenced strip of grass that ran down the side of the house.

  “I’ll go next door for a shower, then come back and make breakfast,” he said. “I won’t be long. Lock the door after me.”

  He was still wearing pajamas and bare feet when he went out, clearly not caring if anyone saw him, though to be fair, his house was right next door.

  I showered quickly, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and let Ruff back inside. When Asher knocked, I was sipping strong coffee from my biggest mug. He was freshly shaven with damp hair, and carrying a bag of groceries. He smelled so good, I wanted to use syrup on him instead of the pancakes.

  I trailed him into the kitchen where he put the groceries on the counter, then handed him a cup of coffee.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip. “That’s good.”

  When he put his coffee back down, I moved close. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I slept much better knowing you were on the couch.”

  Actually, it had taken me forever to get to sleep because I was so tempted to tiptoe out to the living room and cuddle on the couch with him. But he didn’t need to know that.

  “You’re welcome.”

  When he angled his face to me, he looked so handsome, my heart did a backflip. How did he manage to walk around smelling and looking so good, and not get jumped by every woman he met?

  I barely realized I was moving closer until we were a hand’s width apart, as though my body had been caught in a powerful attraction tractor beam and I couldn’t resist his pull.

  My hands went to his waist, and I rose onto tiptoe so I could press my lips against his. For one long, glorious moment, he kissed me back, his mouth hot and tasting of coffee. Then he broke the kiss.

  “This isn’t a good idea.” His voice was a low murmur that sounded a little hoarse.

  “Why not?” My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was auditioning to play the opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, and my body was trembling like a violin string. I was practically a one-woman orchestra.

  He hesitated. “Because of Kade.” But his eyes flicked away from me as he said it, as though it were an excuse.

  I frowned, searching his face for more clues. “Kade’s in love with somebody else.”

  “He told you about Natalie?” His eyebrows hitched up. In Asher terms, that was practically a shocked gasp.

  “He told me he fell in love with a woman who didn’t feel the same way. And he also said he was over her, but I had a feeling he wasn’t.”

  Asher shook his head. “It’s no wonder he can’t get over her if he tells the women he dates about her.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Besides, I can’t imagine any of Kade’s real dates being put off so easily. They’d probably take it as a personal challenge.”

  “You think my brother’s attractive.” His tone was flat and his expression was blank, but I could tell the thought bothered him.

  “Not as handsome as you,” I said.

  Asher’s lips pulled up on one side, then dropped. Rueful, I thought, rather than amused. “His fans wouldn’t agree with you.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and found the number I wanted. It rang for a few seconds before a male voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Kade. This is Iola from San Dante. Crazy pun lady, and Asher’s neighbor. We ate pasta together, remember?”

  Asher’s eyebrows climbed higher than I’d ever seen them when he realized who I’d called. But Kade just asked, “Of course I remember. How are you, Iola?” in an enthusiastic tone, as though he was thrilled to hear from me. He was so charming, I instantly felt like his best friend
. I bet he made everyone feel that way.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “But Asher thinks I might have a secret crush on you.”

  Kade let out a laugh that sounded like he was partly surprised but mostly pleased. “He does, huh? Are you sure he’s not the one with the crush?”

  “Let me talk to him.” Asher put out his hand for the phone.

  “So,” I said to Kade, ignoring Asher’s hand. “You think you could tell Asher we’re just buddies?”

  “Well, I’m not so sure I can do that.” Kade had a smile in his voice. “I mean, we did have a lot of fun at dinner. Any guy would have to be crazy not to want to take you out again, and I don’t think it’d be right to give up on—”

  “Stop,” I said, laughing. “I’m going to hand you over to Asher now, and you’d better not mess with him.”

  Asher took the phone. “Hello.” After listening for a moment, he said, “Yes,” then, “I’m not going to tell you.” Another pause. “That’s not something I want to talk about. I’m hanging up now.”

  When he handed the phone back to me, I widened my eyes expectantly. “So?”

  Asher shook his head. “Inconclusive.”

  I was so sure it was a lie, my heart sank. Had I got this all wrong? If Asher didn’t want to kiss me, I must have been mistaken about the chemistry zinging between us.

  What if he’d been repulsed by my kiss? Did I have bad breath? Did he think I was a terrible kisser?

  Or maybe I’d wanted to kiss Asher so badly, I’d just imagined seeing the same longing in him, and he was currently trying to figure out which lawyer he needed to call to get a restraining order.

  “Okay.” I shoved the phone into the pocket of my shorts and took a step back. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”

  I saw the change in him at once. His eyes softened and he stepped in and took hold of my arms.

  “Don’t do that,” he said softly.

  “Do what?” I lifted my chin, challenging him with a direct gaze.

  “Get the wrong idea.” His eyes dropped to my lips and his steel-gray irises seemed to darken. This time I was sure I couldn’t be imagining the heat I saw.

  Bending his head, he brushed his lips against mine. There was a tension in him that was obvious in the way his fingers tightened on my upper arms and the stiffness in his spine. It was as if he were fighting some internal battle.

  I could have sworn Kade wasn’t really the problem, but why else would Asher be holding back? The question ran through my mind like lightning, then vanished in an exhilarating rush of sensation.

  Asher was a great kisser. But his lips felt too soft against mine. They were like velvet over steel, and behind the softness was a tantalizing hint of hardness. An inner strength I craved.

  The gentle graze of Asher’s mouth did nothing but leave me hungry for more. No, not hungry. Ravenous.

  The ache inside me was like nothing I’d ever felt. I tried to press myself against him, but his hands were tight around my arms, frustrating my efforts.

  My phone rang.

  Asher let me go at once, pulling back with a muffled curse. He stalked to the windows at the other end of the room, running his hand through his hair.

  I yanked the phone out of my pocket.

  “Hello?” I barked, not bothering to check the screen to see who was calling.

  “Iola? It’s Gloria. I have bad news.” She sounded so upset, my stomach clenched. “Someone broke into the gallery last night.”

  “What?” The shock in my voice was so sharp that Asher spun to face me. “Did they take anything?” I asked.

  “They weren’t here to steal anything. There was a little money in the cash drawer, and they didn’t touch it. All they did was…” She broke off with a huff of breath. “I’m so sorry. I hate to tell you like this, over the phone.”

  My face felt bloodless. “What did they do?”

  “They destroyed your beautiful paintings. Why would anyone do that?” Her voice became a wail. “It makes no sense.”

  I put out a hand to steady myself on the counter.

  It made perfect sense. Benedict had always used money to control me, and the paintings were my ticket to independence. He was going after me the way he knew best.

  “I’m on my way.” I tried to sound calm, and not like I wanted to scream.

  I told Asher what had happened, clipping on Ruff’s leash before heading to the car.

  “You’re too upset to drive,” said Asher. “Let me.”

  “You don’t need to come.”

  “I won’t leave you to deal with this alone.”

  Even in my upset state, I was grateful. He was nothing like Benedict. I’d become so used to being treated like I didn’t matter, I’d come to expect it.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “You’re right. I’m so angry, if anyone cut me off, I’d probably drive into them.” Realizing my hand was fisted so tightly around the car keys they were cutting into my skin, I forced myself to suck in a deep breath before handing the keys to him.

  All my paintings had sold last night, at least on paper. But the new owners hadn’t actually paid for them yet. If the paintings had been destroyed, did that mean I was broke again?

  We loaded Ruff into the back seat, and Asher drove like I’d expect, quickly and efficiently. When we pulled up outside the community center, two workmen were nailing wood over its broken window.

  “You go in,” he said. “I’ll park the car and follow.”

  I braced myself before walking inside, but the devastation still hit me hard. Benedict had sliced up my canvases so thoroughly, they hung from their frames in tatters. He hadn’t done it coldly. There was passion in the destruction. I must have made him furious.

  “You’re here.” Gloria emerged from the back of the gallery and threw her arms around me, hugging me to her. I was engulfed by her hair, an amazing mass of russet curls that smelled like a flower garden in full bloom. “Oh, Iola, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry, Gloria.” I hugged her just as tightly. “I think my ex-husband did this, which means he’s the one who broke the window as well.”

  She let me go, drawing back with wide eyes. “Your ex-husband? Why would he do this?”

  I shook my head helplessly. “I’m sorry you were dragged into it.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, sweetie. Some men are just plain bad.” The way she said it suggested she could be speaking from experience.

  “Have you called the police?” asked Asher, coming in to the gallery. His tone was even and his expression hadn’t changed, but I could see his anger. It was in the tension of his skin around his eyes, the hard line of his bottom lip, and the stiffness of his spine.

  He looked almost as furious as I was.

  “They’re on their way,” said Gloria.

  “I didn’t take payment for any of the paintings yet,” I said. “Does the building have insurance?”

  “The building does. But your paintings won’t be covered. We just have a standard policy.”

  I turned away, rubbing my eyes and trying not to cry. The financial loss was a heavy blow. I’d spent weeks finishing those paintings, working every waking minute while the little money I’d been able to escape with slowly ran out.

  Now I had to start again with no safety net. I’d have to look for a job so I could feed myself, and paint when I wasn’t working. Which meant it’d take at least twice as long until I had enough work for another show. Probably longer.

  And that was assuming I could get a job.

  I had my back to Asher and Gloria when I felt hands close around my upper arms. “Okay?” asked Asher softly. He didn’t pull me back against him, but I could feel his warmth.

  I nodded, crossing my arms to put my hands over his. They were big, strong hands. Capable hands. And knowing I wasn’t alone made me feel better.

  “Thanks for being here,” I said.

  “Ruff’s still in the car and I don’t want to leave him there. I’ll bring him inside.” He
gave my arms a squeeze then let me go, turning to Gloria. “Do you mind if I bring Iola’s dog in, Gloria?”

  “Go right ahead.” She stared after Asher, watching him leave. After the door shut behind him, she raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t realize it was serious between the two of you, but I approve. Asher’s a sweetheart.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done without him last night.” When her eyes widened, I realized how it had sounded and shook my head. “Not that anything happened, really. My horrible ex turned up and Asher slept on my couch so I’d feel safe.”

  “That sounds like something he’d do.” Her lips curved up slowly, as though she were remembering something he’d done for her.

  “How well do you know Asher?”

  “Honestly?” She hesitated. “I used to have the biggest crush on him, but that was a while ago. We’ve always just been friends.” She put a hand on my arm. “I don’t think of him that way now, so please don’t think I was trying to hide something from you.”

  “Of course not.” Resting my hand over hers, I squeezed it before letting go.

  Gloria lifted a piece of canvas that was hanging by one corner. “Maybe your work can be repaired?”

  “I wish it could.” Lifting another piece, I fit it against the one she was holding before dropping it. Benedict had gone wild with a boxcutter, and there was no fixing any of it. My eyes stung again, and I scrubbed my hands over my face.

  “Oh, sweetie. Will you be okay?” Gloria put her arm around my shoulders.

  “I just can’t face all this right now. Tell me more about Asher. Take my mind off the carnage.”

  “Well.” She lowered her voice to a murmur. “As long as I’ve known Asher, I still can’t tell what he’s thinking. Can you?”

  “I’m getting better at it.”

  “The Lennox boys are lucky they didn’t get their mother’s temperament. All three of them are real gentlemen, which is a miracle considering how they grew up.”

  “Was something wrong with their mother?”

  “I was terrified of her as a child. She had problems.” Gloria tapped her temple. “She’d be running the bake sale one day, the next day you’d want to check her yard for buried corpses.”

  “That must have been hard on her kids.”