Fool Me Twice_a Cartwright Brother Romance

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Because you think I’ll run, or because you think I’ll spill my guts to the police.”

  “Because the world isn’t a very safe place. I should know, duchess. I’m one of the bad guys you were warned about as a little girl.”

  “I thought you didn’t feel like a bad guy.”

  He looked at me pointedly, and I dropped my gaze as tears burned at the back of my eyes. He was right; he was one of the bad guys. I couldn’t ignore that fact. It was easy to forget it—just like it was easy to look past the activities of the characters in Fast and the Furious and Ocean’s Eleven. They were all criminals, but they were charismatic and gorgeous, and the viewer sat there rooting for them to get away with their crimes. I was sitting in a live-action version of one of those movies, where I was the one married to Paul Walker or Brad Pitt.

  My husband is a bad guy.

  “I’m not spending my weekend with them,” I said in defiance when I’d gathered some of my composure.

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Holland.”

  I stood so fast my chair fell backwards. “Fuck you, Nate. Fuck. You.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Toby’s face greeted me at the end of work again.

  “So when my husband doesn’t want to deal with me, he sends a glorified babysitter instead?”

  He laughed. “I prefer to call it a security detail, but whatever floats your boat. I’m here to drive you out to Torquay.”

  I slid into the car without hesitating that time. Over the months, Toby and I had come into an easy acquaintance. We weren’t friends by any stretch of the word, but we tolerated each other, and I didn’t feel like he wanted to kill me anymore.

  With a sigh, I folded my arms across my chest. “I take it he’s left already?”

  Toby nodded. “Took Sam, Abbot and Kris around lunchtime today. They’ll be back Sunday.”

  “What are they doing, robbing a whole estate?”

  Toby grinned. “Cleaning houses isn’t all we do. Plenty of stuff in this world to steal, princess.”

  “It’s duchess.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Are you pissed you aren’t going with them?”

  He shrugged, using one hand to turn the wheel. He looked very cool, calm and collected in his button-down shirt and charcoal slacks. His clothes fitted his muscular frame well, and his wayfarers topped off the look. If I had met him away from the family and outside the strain of our situation, I would’ve found him extremely beautiful—he did, after all, look very similar to Nate. Just…harder.

  “You know I don’t mind staying behind. Jobs don’t…,” he paused, searching for the word or phrase. “Get me off like they do the others.” I thought back to how voracious Nate’s sex drive was after returning from the only job I knew he’d done. If I hadn’t known the reason behind it, I’d have sworn he was on drugs.

  “I know you hate the work. But don’t you get excited by a good haul?” I asked, an undertone of mocking in my words, lingo I pulled from my limited knowledge of their world, mostly gleaned from TV and movies.

  “Nah, it lost its lustre a long time ago for me. Although, I doubt it ever had it. I’m pushing forty, so it’s all just a means to an end now.”

  “What’s your end?”

  He looked over and met my eyes, holding them a little longer than he should’ve while driving. “Between you and me?”

  “I didn’t tell last time.”

  He nodded once. “It’s getting out.”

  My heart kicked up a beat. He was speaking the words I’d wanted to hear from Nate but that my husband seemed unwilling to say. He’d made out like exiting the family profession couldn’t be done. “Is it possible to get out?”

  He shrugged. “Anything is possible. You just have to want it enough. Plan it better than you plan a job.”

  I sat up a little straighter in my seat, angling my body so I was facing him more directly. “Well, what would you do? I mean, if you weren’t working with your brothers anymore.”

  “My dream is to run a fishing boat. There are some great game spots a little farther down the coast, and I could do whale-watching tours too. I’d need the capital to set it all up, but once it got going, I wouldn’t need much myself as long as costs were covered. Just food and a little shack somewhere, enough to live on.”

  “You wouldn’t miss the fancy cars?” I gestured around the cabin of the BMW we were sitting in.

  “It’s just a car.”

  “OK. So you save up the cash and you’re ready to christen your boat, then what? How do you quit being your family without causing a whole bunch of shit?”

  “That’s the part I’m working on. How do I walk away when no one else has walked away before?”

  “I suppose you could tell them over dinner? That was always when I delivered my most disappointing news to Aunt Maya growing up.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know. I think this might be a little more complicated than ‘Sorry, Aunty, I dented your car. ‘“

  “It was actually the garage door, but I catch your drift.”

  He nodded.

  “Do any of your brothers know about this?”

  He glanced at me quickly. “Just you. I’m trusting you not to tell any of them.”

  Clasping my hands together in my lap, I wrung my fingers, then nodded. I wasn’t going to tell, but why in the world would Toby trust me? I didn’t even think he liked me that much. But every time we were alone, he shared a secret. Was this some kind of trap? Was he testing my loyalty? Loyalty to him? To the family? To Nate?

  Something told me I needed to be very careful. Nate said he trusted Toby above all others. But my instincts told me that Toby was not the pussycat Alesha thought he was. He’d said that Nate had his own angle, but I was fairly sure he was also playing his own as well. Otherwise, why did he act one way when we were alone and another when we had an audience?

  “I hope you realise your dreams one day, Toby,” I said finally, keeping my focus on the scenery as it shot past my window.

  “Who knows. It’s nice to have dreams though, don’t you think? We shouldn’t always have to settle for the life thrust in front of us.”

  “I suppose not,” I replied, taking in his words and analysing them in my mind. There was definitely an angle he was playing, I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  An Olive Branch

  I was also very wary of Jasmine. Ever since she’d apologised for the slap, she’d been sweet as pie, but I could feel the undercurrent of her distaste towards me in every interaction we had. I didn’t know if it was me she didn’t like, or the effect I had on Nate—he had, after all, threatened them all when he’d found out she hit me. That alone could be enough for her. It was hard to stay angry at family, and much easier to blame an outsider for any newfound problems. Either way, I wasn’t sure I was interested in getting along with her at all. In my eyes, she was the reason for my problems. Because of the life she’d created for her sons, Nate would never walk away, and my best friend wasn’t my best friend anymore. I didn’t like how far her claws had dug into my life. Jasmine Cartwright was my greatest obstacle—my nemesis. I didn’t know if we could ever get along.

  “Perhaps you and I can spend the day together tomorrow,” Jasmine suggested when we were tidying up after dinner that night. “Nate mentioned you’re singing at a wedding on Sunday. Maybe we can find you a nice dress to wear? We can make a day of it, have lunch at this great bistro I know of, get massages and have facials at the day spa. It’ll be great, just the two of us.”

  I looked behind me because I really wasn’t sure if she was talking to me. But seeing that we were alone, I had to take a moment to think about what she said. “Uh… sure?” What the hell is going on?

  Jasmine laughed. “Don’t look so frightened, Holland. I don’t bite. And I think it’s high time that you and I got to know each other. Don’t you agree?”

  “Uh… sure?”

  Again, she laug
hed. “Great. We’ll leave right after breakfast. Eight OK with you?”

  “Sure,” I replied again, my surprise at her olive branch outing messing with my vocabulary.

  When I’d gone to bed that night, I’d thought about calling or texting Nate to tell him about her offer. I wanted to know if it was her idea or his, or if he thought this was a normal, or even a wise thing to do. But when I’d held my phone up to bring up his number, I decided against it. He hadn’t called me all day. He hadn’t even taken my own desire to stay in the apartment this weekend into consideration. He’d just steamrolled all over the top of my plans, done what he wanted, and forced me to do what he wanted too. No, I did not want to speak to my husband. I was still pissed at him.

  Switching my phone to silent, I set it on the bedside table, then rolled over and attempted to go to sleep, something that wasn’t easy to do when you’d grown accustomed to drifting off naked and in the arms of a giant man listening to the sea.

  After spending the morning browsing stores and making small talk, Jasmine and I finished our day of bonding with spa treatments. It had been odd trying on dresses and receiving compliments. I was still trying to understand her motives, so it was impossible to relax around her.

  “What made you choose the profession you’re in?” I asked her when we were alone in the spa room with mud drying on our skin. They’d put cucumbers on our eyes too, but I’d removed mine to keep an eye on Jasmine, just in case this whole day was an excuse to get me alone so she could smother me with one of the plush towels. Where Nate’s family was concerned, I had terrible trust issues. I may have been in love with her son, but my Stockholm Syndrome had never kicked in enough to make me feel an empathy towards my captors. Maybe that’s what happened with Alesha?

  “You really want that sad and sorry tale?” Jasmine laughed, pulling my attention back as she removed the cucumber from her eyes.

  “I do, actually. I’m trying to understand this life. I’m trying to understand you.”

  “I’m honestly not that complicated, sweetheart, but OK,” she said, rolling to her side and propping herself up on an elbow. “I’ll play this game. The short and simple version is like this: I grew up mostly on the streets. My mother was a heroin addict and would turn tricks whenever she couldn’t pay for a hit—which was more often than not. Stealing was how I survived for the most part, so I got real good at it real fast. Growing up with her for a mother taught me two things.” She held up her fingers and counted them off. “Drugs are a waste of a life, and sex can get you anything you want. And I’m not talking prostitution. I’m talking control, manipulation. I saw how those dealers used their power to make her do whatever they wanted her to do. It wasn’t long before I realised that I had power too. I was young, I was beautiful, and there is a certain type of man out there who will do anything to have that. At first I used them for survival, but then I did it just because I could. And I found myself living a pretty comfortable existence. All that changed when I set my sights on a man called Derek Cartwright. He looked like money, you know? Plus, he was beautiful. I thought, if I could just land that guy, he could make all of my dreams come true. And in a way, he did. It turned out he was an even bigger thief than I was. He ran with a group—the family, they called it—who pulled big enough jobs so everyone lived well. They took me in, taught me everything I know. And the rest, as they say, is history.” There was a wistfulness in her eyes as she pressed her lips together.

  “Cartwright. You married him?”

  She nodded. “I did. All five boys have the same father.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Prison,” she stated simply, rolling so she was again flat on her back. “Tried to do a job he wasn’t ready for and got caught with the rest of them.”

  “I thought Cartwrights didn’t do time.”

  She laughed at that. A great big mocking laugh that told me she thought I was incredibly naïve. “Is that what Nate told you? Oh, honey. We do time. Nate did time. Got caught stealing cars when he was fourteen. Did six months. Sam, he wasn’t so lucky. He was an adult when he got caught. An alarm tripped when he was stealing the overnight safe from a post office. Stupid boy was trying to do a job on his own.” She shook her head. “He did eighteen months in medium security.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Clean as a whistle. Nate and Toby took over planning. No one does a job without the others’ involvement. Family sticks together.”

  “And what about you? Have you ever done time?”

  She shook her head. “I was questioned over the robbery that got the rest of them. But they couldn’t make anything stick.”

  “It must’ve been a big robbery if they’re all still in there.”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t happy. “Two security guards died. Derek took the fall and is serving two life sentences. The rest got out years ago.”

  “Where are they now?”

  She shrugged. “They’re around. Some went straight, some retired, others went their own way or got caught again.” Some went straight, some retired. It seemed getting out was simple for some….

  “Did you consider getting out yourself?”

  “I had children, bills, a lifestyle. I didn’t have the luxury of a career change.”

  “So you just kept stealing and passed your skillset on to your sons?”

  She smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Holland, but look at my sons. They’re happy, healthy, well provided for. They’re entrepreneurs, and they will never, ever put the coin in another man’s purse. No, my boys live free. They live hard. And they take what they want.”

  But to what end? When will it be enough?

  “Sounds like you’ve lived a rather interesting life.”

  “I have. And there isn’t a single person in this world who’s going to take that life—or my boys—away from me.”

  Her light eyes held mine, and suddenly her motives for the day out became clear. She was here to remind me that she was the matriarch of the family.

  Well, that kind of talk might’ve worked in her world, but she was forgetting something important….

  “They’re not boys anymore, Jasmine. They’re men. I think it will serve you well to remember that.”

  Placing my cucumbers back over my eyes, I laid back on the bench, hoping to God that her loyalty towards Nate would trump any desire to harm me. Thankfully, her loyalty won.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Don’t Keep Your Husband Waiting

  Weddings are funny things. They’re supposed to be all about romance and love, but in reality they’re filled with tension and worry. So much planning goes into the day and all eyes are on two people. When I stood on the stage, singing Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love” as the happy couple turned around the floor for their first dance, all eyes were indeed on them. All except one set.

  Toby’s.

  Instead of dropping me off at the reception hall and agreeing to come back when the event was over, he’d insisted on staying, stating he was there as my security. Now that I was singing, he was standing at the bar, drinking what looked like a neat Scotch and watching me intently.

  There was something predatory about the way he watched me, something a little too intimate in his eyes. I’d thought our conversations in the car the day before had been a way to trip me up and test my loyalty, but what if it was something else? What if… what if he wanted me?

  The idea made all the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and not in a good way. Did he want me? The way he was watching me on stage certainly felt like it. It was eerily similar to the way Nate had been watching me that first night at the karaoke bar.

  Was that what all the glares had been about? Was he angry that I’d chosen Nate? Was he angry that Nate had swooped in on me? “I did see you first.” Was he jealous of Nate because of me? Nate said he trusted him most, but was that a mistake? Was I in danger being alone with him?

  I had been angry with Nate for not giving me freedom,
but now I wished he was right there, glued to my side to make sure nothing happened to me.

  “I trust him with my life.” It was why Nate sent him to look after me. “You’re part of that life.”

  Perhaps Nate needed to rethink that.

  “Why teach when you have a set of lungs like that?” Toby said, shaking his head in amazement when I walked to the bar to get a bottle of water during the speeches. The alcohol had obviously relaxed his normally guarded demeanour.

  “Unfortunately, these lungs don’t pay the bills,” I replied, enjoying the cool liquid on my overused throat. I was seriously out of practise and should have spent a lot more time warming up before getting on stage. I was going to be croaky the next day.

  “What bills? You’re a Cartwright now. You don’t even need to work. We take care of our own.” His eyes moved down the length of my dress, hovering in places he shouldn’t. There was a slight sheen to his gaze, telling me he’d sunk a few more of those Scotches than a man responsible for driving should.

  “I guess that’s true. Although, I do really love my job—both jobs.” I seemed to always be defending my choice to work for a living to these people. “I don’t want to quit and be completely dependent on you all.”

  “You mean like Alesha?”

  “Alesha seems really happy with her role. I’m not trying to put that down, I’m just saying what makes me happy. I like some independence, and honestly this whole 24/7 detail I have on me is starting to wear a little thin.” I glared at him pointedly and stepped away, making a beeline for the ladies’. It was one place I knew I’d get a little privacy and distance from his gaze.

  He followed me anyway. “I’m just following orders, Holland. I would personally trust you to come and go as you please, but you’re not mine to trust, you’re Nate’s. And he wants you under guard.”

  I stopped just before I reached the door and turned to face him. “And I should be thankful that he doesn’t keep me under lock and key?”