No Fooling Around: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

“A surprise. It’ll take your mind off things.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m too worried about Ruff.”

  “That’s why we need to go.”

  “Asher, I—”

  “Please.” He offered his hand with a smile that made me slide off my stool. His smile was like the Pied Piper’s flute. One glimpse and I’d follow him anywhere.

  “What should I wear?”

  Running his gaze over my sundress and sandals, heat flickered into his eyes as though he liked what he saw. “You look perfect. Don’t change a thing.”

  My legs weakened. Surely that look had to mean he was still attracted to me, which would mean he really did just want to cool things off because he was worried about Benedict. And maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling guilty that we were busy enjoying ourselves when Ruff was dog-napped.

  He hustled me into the car, still refusing to say where he was taking me. But we’d only been driving for half an hour or so when I realized we were heading for a group of large, colorful tents.

  “You’re taking me to the circus?” I asked incredulously.

  “You said you’d never been.”

  I was speechless. All I could do was gaze at his profile as he drove. I already knew he was sweet, but this was next level. A friend had once told me she thought the hotter a guy was, the more likely he was to be an arrogant narcissist. When it came to Asher, her theory couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Swallowing hard, I managed to force out some words. “Thank you. I mean, you remembered. That’s… wow. But do we have time?”

  “The afternoon show’s about to start. It’ll be finished by three thirty. Benedict won’t call before then.”

  “How do you know about the afternoon show?”

  Instead of answering, he just shot me a sideways glance, one side of his mouth slightly lifted. My heart burst out singing, and it was some kind of operatic number. Very romantic. He must have checked out the timetable in advance.

  Just like when I’d found out what Gloria had done for me, tears came dangerously close. Was being so nice a San Dante thing, or had I somehow gotten lucky and stumbled on the most thoughtful people in the entire state?

  I barely managed to get my emotions under control by the time Asher parked outside the big top. He insisted on buying the tickets, and we found our seats just before the show started.

  From the moment the ringmaster stepped into the central ring, the show didn’t stop. A miniature car careened into the ring after him, racing around in fast circles. I couldn’t stop laughing as clowns somehow poured out of it, more squeezed into the tiny vehicle than I could believe possible.

  I leaned in to murmur in Asher’s ear. “Crazy as it sounds, I’ve never seen clowns in real life before.”

  “Then they have big shoes to fill.” The smile lines around his eyes crinkled at his own joke, and I laughed before turning back to the ring where the clowns were jumping onto unicycles.

  “I didn’t think they did stunts, but—” I gasped as one after another, they flew over a ramp, doing somersaults while still on their unicycles. “Can you believe this?”

  He took hold of my hand. “Save some amazement for the other acts. It’s only just begun.”

  I wrapped the fingers of my other hand around our joined ones, and lost my worries in the spectacle unfolding in front of me. Next came the acrobats, then the tightrope walkers, and two contortionists who had no bones in their bodies at all.

  Then the trapeze artists appeared and all the air left my lungs as I watched them fly at the top of the tall tent, totally weightless.

  The clowns came back to close the show, and when the bright overhead lights came back on, my hands were sore from clapping.

  “What did you think?” asked Asher.

  “It worked. I forgot about everything else, even Ruff.” I looked longingly up at the top of the tent. “One day I want to take trapeze lessons.”

  “You want to climb up there?” He sounded surprised.

  “What, you don’t?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Scared of heights?”

  He nodded. “Of heights, but mostly of falling.”

  The words reminded me of how matter-of-factly he’d told me he was never going to fall in love. That he’d never be able to trust anyone enough.

  Something twisted in my chest.

  I didn’t want to fall either. But I did want to soar through the air, high above the ground.

  If only Asher wanted to fly with me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Asher

  There was probably a mathematical equation to calculate how long a circus-induced feeling of happiness should usually last. But whatever the typical duration, for Iola and I it ended when we stepped out of the big top.

  I took Iola back to her place, where she sat stiffly on the couch, holding her phone in both hands. She stared at it, willing it to ring, her face pale and serious.

  As for me, I was trying not to let on how much I wanted to be the one who’d talk to Benedict. I didn’t like not being in control, and the whole situation was pushing me out of my comfort zone.

  “If you can, put a little fear into your voice when you talk to him.” I leaned against the table to keep from pacing. “At least at first. Try to sound like you’re gaining confidence as the conversation progresses.”

  She nodded. “I can be afraid. I’ll just think of what could happen if we don’t get Ruff back.” She put her phone down on the coffee table and twisted her fingers together. “What about if I add a whole lot of anger to my act. Would that work?”

  “If I said no to anger, would you be able to hold it back?”

  “Not a chance.” She picked her phone back up, her hands clearly restless. “Around three o’clock this morning, I came up with a list of offensive websites and I’m going to register his email address on all of them.”

  “Revenge is better than anger.”

  She gave me a weak but grateful smile. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “I’ll get us a drink.” I headed toward the kitchen.

  “Just water for me. I need to keep a clear head.”

  Opening the cupboard door to get the glasses, I noticed it didn’t shut properly and made a mental note to come back with my toolbox.

  But that was a foolish thought. There was no point in fixing it when I’d be pulling down the entire house soon.

  Stifling a sigh, I filled two glasses with cold water before carrying them into her living room. It smelled of paint. She’d started a new painting, and already I could see its potential. I had a feeling it’d be her best yet.

  She took one of the glasses from me, and her green eyes met mine. I saw sadness in them again, as well as worry, and my desire to take that sadness away and make her smile was overwhelming.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was soft. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  My heart thumped against my ribs, like it only seemed to do around her. “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said in a level tone, careful to keep my face impassive.

  Her phone rang and she jabbed the speaker button to connect the call.

  “Benedict?” she demanded.

  “Hello, darling.” With the speaker on, Benedict’s voice rang out clearly, his aristocratic accent making him sound deceptively polite. I sat on the couch next to Iola, keeping my movements slow so her ex-husband wouldn’t hear me.

  “Is Ruff okay?” Iola asked.

  “The dog’s healthy enough, for now. A veterinarian just issued the papers for his flight home.”

  She glanced at me, her lips tightening and her eyes flashing green murder. “Benedict, why do you want me back?” she asked with just the right amount of fear and anger in her voice. “Our marriage was never happy. We fit together like pubic hair and a yanked-up zipper.”

  “No Appleby has ever been divorced.”

  My jaw clenched at the stupidity of his answer. What kind of reason was that?

  Iola drew in a br
eath and let it out again, as though drawing on hidden reserves of strength. “I’m not going to England. I need you to give Ruff back and sign the divorce papers. You can’t keep our bank accounts frozen when some of that money belongs to me.”

  Benedict chuckled. “I had dinner with Frank before I left. You remember the president of our bank, don’t you darling? He’s been a great friend through all of this unpleasantness.”

  Iola rubbed her palm up and down her thigh. She was doing a brilliant job holding back her rage. Maybe even better than I could have done, though it pained me to admit it.

  “You broke into the community center. You smashed a window and vandalized private property. Now you’re in serious trouble.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if they suffered a recent break-in, I’m not surprised. The crime rate in this country is far from ideal. The town must be full of vandals and thieves.”

  Iola met my gaze again, and a calmness seemed to settle over her. She was playing this conversation perfectly, and was about to lead Benedict from confidence to uncertainty like a matador coaxing a bull toward the sword.

  “Next to the community center is a realtor’s office. You may have noticed it? The woman who runs it displays her listings in the window.”

  “Iola, it’s time to accept—”

  “Apparently over the years, various youths have found it funny to make changes to those listings by scribbling on the glass. That’s why the realtor has a security camera focused on the sidewalk outside her shop. When I checked, I found the camera covered a large area.”

  She paused, but Benedict was silent. He had to see where she was going with this. With any luck he was having a panic attack.

  “It captured the man who smashed the community center’s window. The shot was clear. And when I asked the realtor for the footage so I could pass it on to the police, she was happy to let me have it. One thing about San Dante, it’s a very friendly town. The locals are almost too nice.”

  “You’re bluffing.” Benedict’s voice was a growl.

  “I haven’t taken the recording to the police yet, but I imagine you’ll be charged with destruction of property. You don’t know any judges here in California, do you, Benedict?”

  He let out a derisive snort. “I know you’re bluffing.”

  “What if someone sent the recording to British newspapers? The gossip rags love running stories about upper-class twats embarrassing themselves.” Her voice sharpened. “Can you imagine your parents reading about it? What if Frank-from-the-bank discovered you’d been committing crimes? Do you think he’d still come to dinner?”

  Benedict was silent again, and Iola looked like she was holding her breath. Her wide green eyes met mine and her expression was half fearful, half hopeful.

  “I don’t believe any such recording exists,” Benedict said finally. “But if you have something with a man who looks like me, I want to see it. I’m sure the resemblance will be shaky, to say the least.”

  “Be at my house at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, and bring Ruff with you. I’ll have his ownership papers waiting. Once you see the recording, you’ll give Ruff back to me and sign on the dotted line.”

  “Nine o’clock it is.” His voice hardened. “If I don’t see a credible recording, I’ll expect you to be packed and ready to get on a plane to England.”

  “Agreed.”

  Iola hung up and dropped the phone on the table as though it were hot. Blowing out a loud breath, she leaned back “I really hope this works.”

  “You were incredible.” I spoke from the heart.

  A slow, relieved smile spread over her face. “You think so?”

  “I was awestruck. You were perfect.”

  Her smile grew and her cheeks flushed. She looked both pleased and breathtakingly beautiful. I wanted to kiss her more than I wanted to breathe.

  “I hope he takes the bait,” she said.

  “He will. Now I have to prepare. You’re sleeping at my house tonight, so grab whatever you need.”

  She shook her head. “I’m staying right here.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I’m staying here.” Her voice was firm and she lifted her chin to shoot me a defiant stare. “This is still my house, even if it won’t be for long.”

  I swallowed a hard lump of guilt at the reminder. I should be getting used to the taste of it by now.

  “I need you out of harm’s way,” I told her. “If anything happened to you, it’d be on me.”

  “I can’t stay next door. Don’t ask me to do that, because I won’t. Whatever happens, I need to be here.”

  Her jaw was set so firmly, what else could I do but give in? I just hoped I wouldn’t come to regret it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Asher

  After Benedict’s phone call, we spent some time setting up the house with the equipment I’d picked up. Then we ordered pizza. By the time we were done eating, the sun had dropped below the horizon and the house was getting dark.

  Leaving the lights off, we retreated into Iola’s bedroom and closed the door behind us.

  Iola sat on the bed. I turned on a dim, low-wattage lamp next to the bed and handed her the pair of handcuffs Nemesis had turned up with a few months ago. In spite of the fluffy pink fur, they seemed as strong as regular cuffs.

  “Time to play?” Iola dangled them from one finger and quirked a suggestive eyebrow. “I could joke about handcuffs, but I’ll restrain myself. Even if I wanted to unlock some off-the-cuff puns, my hands are tied.”

  “Don’t be nervous. It’ll be okay.”

  “I’m not nervous, I’m terrified. By the way, what do you call a potato that likes being handcuffed? A mash-ochist.” Her cheeks flushed and she gritted her teeth. “Must. Stop. Talking.” She threw herself down flat, bunching the pillow under her neck.

  “You don’t have to do this. Go next door where you’ll be safe.” It came out sounding too much like a command, so I softened my voice. “Please.”

  Though the dim light meant her face was in shadow, I still saw her eyes flash. “I’ll tell you a million bad jokes, but I’m not leaving.”

  I settled on the bed next to her. “Then I’ll stick close. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She rolled onto her side facing me, and I did the same. Lying close without touching, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Though I couldn’t make out her freckles, I mapped and memorized the fine bones that shaped Iola’s face. Her breathing slowed a little and some of the tension eased from her body. My proximity seemed to calm her, even as hers had the opposite effect on me.

  She was close enough to kiss. Close enough that if I put my hand on her hip, I could pull her against me.

  My muscles tensed with the effort of remaining still, of not touching her. Of not kissing her.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I whispered.

  “A good surprise?” Her breath was warm and a little minty.

  “I think you’ll like it.”

  “Is it in your pants?”

  I huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s not that kind of surprise.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “You’ll find out later.” I leaned in until my nose lightly brushed against hers. “Tell me a joke,” I whispered.

  “Did you hear about the vampire who jumped a snowman? He got frostbite.”

  I chuckled.

  “And cow farts come from the dairy air,” she added. “In case you were considering a moo-ve to the cow-ntry.”

  “You’re hilarious. Keep going.”

  “A perfectionist walked into a bar. Apparently it wasn’t set high enough.”

  I kissed her nose. “Another.”

  “Once I was kidnapped by mimes. They did unspeakable things to me.”

  There was a thump from outside the window, then a muffled curse. A man had stumbled over something.

  Iola’s eyes widened, glinting in the dim light. We were both frozen, holding our breath. Then
she grabbed her cellphone.

  Something rattled, and it sounded like the house’s side door. That was the logical entry point for an intruder, because it wasn’t visible from the road or the beach. That door hadn’t been well maintained, and the lock was rusty. It had become even more defective after I’d removed several screws.

  Sure enough, a hard thump and the crack of screws breaking free of the wood told me the intruder had broken the lock with a swift shoulder blow.

  The hinges creaked as the door opened. I heard soft footfalls that meant the intruder was making his way into the living room.

  Soundlessly, I eased off the bed and padded over to the bedroom door, positioning myself on the side where I’d be hidden behind it when the door opened.

  A faint beam of light slipped under the door, then vanished. Benedict was shining a flashlight around, searching for the recording Iola had baited him with.

  She shifted on the bed, and I put my finger to my lips, silently willing her not to move. Benedict wouldn’t have come here without a weapon. There was a chance he may have a gun, though it was more likely he’d be carrying a baseball bat or knife. And sneaking around a strange house in the dark, he’d be on edge.

  In my original plan, I was going to be here alone. Now Iola was in danger, I kicked myself for not arranging backup. She had her cellphone in hand, ready to call 911 if things went wrong, but I should have asked Kade to come to San Dante in case we needed help.

  Benedict’s footsteps approached the bedroom and stopped outside the door. The door handle turned, then the door swung open, blocking my view of the person coming in.

  “Benedict!” Iola sat up on the bed, her face pale. His flashlight found her face and she flinched back against the headboard, lifting one hand to shield her eyes. “What are you doing here?” She sounded panicked and afraid, but she’d remembered to keep her other hand under the covers so Benedict wouldn’t see her phone.

  “Hello, darling.” Benedict’s voice was unpleasant, but at least he lowered his flashlight so it wasn’t shining in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have threatened me. That wasn’t nice.”

  “Don’t make me go to England with you,” Iola whimpered. “I’ll give you the recording.” She darted her gaze to the nightstand where I’d left the biggest memory card I could find. It was illuminated in the dim glow from the lamp, and in case Benedict was slow on the uptake, I’d written ‘CCTV Footage’ in black marker on the label.