No Laughing Matter: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

  “Trixie Watson is a menace!” Edward raised his voice. “The woman is certifiable, and I won’t have her pets or relatives on my property.”

  Mom raised her voice even louder. “Edward Lennox has the brain of a beetle and a face like a basilisk’s butthole.”

  “Mom!” I yelled. “Would you please stop making things worse?”

  Mason folded his arms, glaring up at his father, and I was distracted by the impressive flexing of his biceps. “Dad, are you going to tell Carlotta you’re sorry?” His tone was so hard, he could have used it to crack macadamia nuts, which are by far the most difficult nuts to crack. Come to think of it, his angular jaw could probably be used the same way. He could rent himself out to the Nut Hut for parties.

  “Sorry?” His father snapped. “I’m not sorry. And if that dog doesn’t get off my property, I’ll…” He broke off as Xul lifted his leg and sprayed another stream of liquid onto his steps.

  Mom hooted. I could hear boards creaking as though she were doing some kind of victory dance, but I didn’t want to turn around and look. I was suddenly finding it hard enough to keep a straight face.

  “Sorry about Xul, Mr. Lennox,” I said. “He’s old, and you know how the elderly have to pee every five minutes.”

  The old man made a choking sound. “Get that mutt under control, or I’ll go inside and fetch my gun.”

  A muscle twitched in Mason’s jaw. “You don’t own a gun.”

  “Then I’m going inside to order one!” The door slammed behind Edward so violently, I winced.

  “Who’s a very good boy, Xul?” Mom cooed. “Who’s my big, bad destroyer? Come to Mommy, Xuley Wuley. Come here, good boy.”

  When the dog ran to the gate, Mason opened it for him to get back through to our side. Tail wagging, he ran straight back to Mom. I moved to follow, and another crash came from inside, as though Edward had slammed an interior door.

  Mom cackled again. “Did you see how angry he was? Now’s the perfect time to crank call him.” She hurried inside, Xul at her heels.

  Sighing, Mason dragged his hand through his hair, giving it a tousled look that made me wonder if that’s what he looked like when he woke up.

  The mental picture was sudden, and all too vivid. Mason in bed, his hair messy. He was so big, his body would take up a lot of room. And when he sat up, the sheets would slip down his wide, muscled chest to reveal abs that rippled like roofing iron.

  I swallowed, trying to lock down my rebellious imagination.

  Then Mason gave me a heart-stopping smile. “Welcome back to San Dante, Carlotta. Are you having fun yet?”

  A comedic retort might distract from the fact he was making my legs weak again, but I couldn’t think of a single funny thing to say. That meant I’d been lost for words twice. For someone whose career depended on humor, it was a worrying sign.

  Somehow, Mason Lennox was extinguishing my wit. He was crushing it out of existence with his macadamia-cracking jaw, his polar-storm eyes, and his butt-hugging jeans.

  Just one more reason to be mad with him.

  “This isn’t my idea of fun.” I folded my arms. “And your father isn’t the only one who owes me an apology.”

  Chapter Two

  Mason

  I hated keeping secrets from Carlotta.

  For the last six years I’d been pretending to be someone I wasn’t, so lying was second nature. But I knew Carlotta’s history, how she’d been mocked at school for believing her mother’s wild stories. She’d deserved the truth then, and even more so now.

  But I couldn’t be honest with her, not even about things that had happened years ago. Those weren’t my secrets to tell.

  “I apologize,” I said instead.

  “What about an explanation?”

  “I can only give you an apology.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her arms still folded, and I felt like I was sixteen again. I couldn’t pick what exactly it was about her that had changed since then, but she was even more beautiful than I remembered. I liked the fine laughter lines around her eyes and the character the years had added.

  “I’m surprised your mom and my dad haven’t burned down each other’s houses yet,” I said to distract her.

  The two small, wooden houses sat side-by-side. They’d once been almost identical, but not anymore. Dad’s place was well cared for and freshly painted. Carlotta’s mother’s house had peeling paint and an overgrown vine that was threatening to swallow it. Some of the boards I could pick out as rotten, even from a distance.

  “The two of them seem to be edging into Defcon One,” agreed Carlotta.

  “Nuclear war?”

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Mom’s enriching uranium in her basement.”

  She sounded so serious I couldn’t help but chuckle. But then, she’d always had a talent for making me laugh.

  “I’d better go and make sure my father isn’t really trying to buy weapons on the Internet.” I moved toward Dad’s front step. “It was nice seeing you again.”

  The breeze lifted the ends of her hair, blowing a few strands across her face. She brushed it back, her brow furrowed.

  “Wish I could say the same. Not that it hasn’t been super great reliving the fact you left town without a word and ignored me when you got back, but there are other things I enjoy more. Like root canals and anal fissures.”

  Ouch.

  “Do you get a lot of anal fissures?” I asked, trying to soften her frown.

  She drew her back up, lifting her chin. “You’ve forfeited your right to enquire about any of my body parts.”

  As soon as she said the words ‘body parts’, it became physically impossible for me to stop my gaze from flicking down to her wet T-shirt. And a sudden jolt of memory came over me with such force, for a moment I was sixteen again.

  Carlotta and I had watched a re-screening of The Matrix. We’d both seen the movie at least three times on its first release, and the cinema was all but empty. From our seats in the back row, we shared a bucket of popcorn and murmured a commentary to each other, our feet propped up on the seats in front.

  I’d kissed her a few times already, but I was keyed up as I waited for the perfect moment to do it again. Though I’d tried to sound normal, our next kiss was all I could think about and the anticipation of it had made me nervous.

  Near the end of the movie, as Trinity kissed Neo, bringing him back to life, I’d turned in my seat and made an awkward lunge. Our shoulders had collided and our noses had banged together, and for a moment it was so embarrassingly awful I’d waited for her to laugh.

  Then her lips had opened under mine, tasting of popcorn and salt, and the muffled, eager sound she’d made had extinguished all thought.

  It wasn’t even a conscious movement that had brought my hand up to forbidden territory. I’d only intended to put my hand on her waist when it accidentally brushed the underside of her breast. But she made the same sound again before taking my hand to place it where she wanted it. With my heart beating in my throat, I cradled her breast. That curve had felt both perfect and vital, as though I’d just discovered the meaning of life. The way her body had melted into me, pushing into my hand, had been a religious experience.

  I’d felt like I was on the precipice of something big. Something irreversible.

  I’d thought I was falling in love.

  It was a memory that had stuck with me, still so visceral that I could close my eyes and breathe in the buttery smell of popcorn.

  “Mason?”

  I blinked, coming back to reality. “Did you say something?”

  “The only thing I want to say to you is goodbye.”

  Her dismissive tone told me how much everything had changed. Now she’d rather have a painful medical condition than talk to me. And if she still didn’t know what had driven me away back then, I couldn’t blame her for hating me.

  I watched her walk away before going up the back steps into Dad’s house. He was beetroot red, pacing up a
nd down beside the window he’d been peering through. “Why can’t you arrest Trixie Watson?” he demanded.

  “Because she’s done nothing wrong.”

  He made a spluttering sound. “Done nothing wrong? She’s been annoying me for years, and now she’s sending her rude daughter and that flea-bitten animal to torment me.” He looked ready to explode, so I put on a soothing tone.

  “It’s time to end the war, Dad. Make peace with the Watsons.”

  “Trixie’s a public disgrace. I demand you lock her up and throw away the key.”

  I stopped in front of him so he couldn’t keep pacing. “Do you know how childish you sound? How long has this feud been going on? A dozen years? More?”

  “That shrew has been—”

  “Stop! No more complaints about Trixie. And enough talk about arresting her. You can’t say things like that, even in private.” I glowered at him. “I work as a bodyguard, remember?”

  “You could have the local cops arrest her.”

  “Dad—”

  He huffed. “Forget I asked. Next time, I’ll call the police myself.”

  I shook my head, striding into his kitchen. “What did you eat last night?”

  “Something green. And that means it was healthy.”

  I opened Dad’s freezer to check the supply of nutritious meals I’d filled it with. They were all still there, untouched. And when I peered into his trash bin, it was filled with empty packets of junk food.

  “Ice cream?” I asked, spotting the empty container. “That green stuff you ate, did it have a sweet peppermint flavor?”

  “So what? It’s still green.”

  I rubbed my forehead, wishing there were a way to get through to him. “The doctor said you couldn’t have—”

  “I like ice cream.” He folded his arms, his lips in a stubborn line. “I’ve been eating it all my life and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “Not for much longer if you keep ignoring your doctor’s orders. Vegetables aren’t poison. If you try some, you might even like them.”

  “I eat fruit.”

  “Jelly donuts don’t count.”

  “They’re raspberry. That’s fruit!”

  “It’s not enough to just take your medicine, Dad. Lifestyle changes are important too.”

  “You’re one to talk, the number of times you’ve almost died.”

  “Not on purpose.” I realized I was rubbing the scar on my arm and dropped my hand. “Maybe Kade will make you some healthy meals you’ll actually eat.”

  Dad’s overgrown eyebrows shot up, his expression lightening. “What? Is Kade coming home?”

  I nodded. “He gets here on Tuesday. Taking a short break from filming.” I still couldn’t get over the fact my brother had become a celebrity. His TV cooking show, Kade Cooks, was a runaway success.

  Dad rubbed his hands together. “I’ll ask him to cook ribs. He does them better than anyone.”

  “We’ll have a family dinner when he gets here,” I promised.

  My brothers were non-identical twins, and the three of us were close, though we didn’t live in the same city. Asher lived here in San Dante, while Kade was usually in LA. As for me, I’d been in Houston, although that could change now the drug dealers I’d been working for were behind bars. I’d been undercover for six years, acting as a bodyguard for some of the biggest scumbags in the Medea drug cartel. But a few weeks ago my DEA taskforce had swooped in and mopped most of them up.

  Six years of stress, danger, injuries, and secrets had finally paid off. I’d thought I’d be overjoyed, but instead I was restless. So when my brother Asher had called with information connecting his neighbor to the cartel, I’d come running.

  My work was everything. Other people could take vacations; I’d rather keep taking out bad guys.

  “Great idea.” Dad sounded gleeful. “Ribs for the whole family.”

  “Kade makes a nice broccoli side dish.”

  “That’s disgusting. Wash your mouth out. With bacon.” Dad stomped back into the living room and lowered himself into the recliner next to his bookcase full of conspiracy theory books. Aliens in government, their plan to cull the human race, and the Illuminati’s diabolical plans. In his own way Dad was just as fond of fanciful stories as Trixie Lennox.

  “If you’re looking for something useful to do, you could go next door and help Carlotta’s mother with some house repairs,” I suggested. “Her porch looks like it’s about to fall down.”

  “You think so?” He rubbed his chin, his gaze going up to the ceiling.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you plotting?”

  “Just wondering if I could help her porch fall down by tying a towrope around the foundations and—”

  “I asked you to fix her house, not destroy it. A peace offering.” Then I shook my head at myself, because I was wasting my breath. “Anyway, I need to get back to work.” I went to the door.

  “I hope you’re not planning to see that Watson girl again? She’s almost as bad as her mother.”

  “Not unless she starts enjoying anal fissures.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m leaving now, so try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

  Dad grunted and I gave him a nod, pretending he’d agreed. Better for my peace of mind that way.

  Chapter Three

  Carlotta

  The next morning, to my horror, I discovered Mom didn’t drink coffee and had none in the house. I decided to walk Xul to Natalie’s café, which was on Calle Colina, about five minutes inland from the beach. Nat’s parents had owned the café for the entire time I’d been alive. I used to go there after school to drink milkshakes so thick they could barely be sucked up a straw.

  Outside the café, I paused a moment, looking through the glass, searching for Natalie. She was wiping tables, her long dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. She wore black-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look enormous, and she had an amazing figure I used to envy, before I grew to like my own bottom-heavy shape.

  She’d been running the café since her father lost the use of his legs, but it still bore his name. Mack’s Place was printed across the front of her T-shirt.

  Looping Xul’s leash around one of the outdoor chairs, I told him to stay before pushing open the door.

  Nat’s face lit up when she saw me. “Carlotta! I was wondering when you’d get here.” She threw down her cloth and rushed to hug me.

  “It’s great to see you, too.” Grinning, I hugged her back. “I’ve missed you.” I pulled away so I could see her face, and gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your Mom’s funeral.”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  “How’s your father?”

  She’d told me how hard he’d taken his enforced retirement from the café.

  “Dad’s worse than ever. You want a coffee?”

  “I’d kill for one. Seriously, I’d be willing to commit murder and do jail time.”

  She laughed. “Sit down and I’ll get us both one.”

  Even though it was early January and there was a cold breeze, I took an outdoor seat so Xul the Destroyer could sprawl under my chair. Natalie brought our coffees out, then put down a bowl of water for Xul before she settled onto the seat opposite me.

  “How long will you stay in San Dante?” she asked.

  Before answering, I took a sip of the elixir of life, taking my time to properly savor and worship the hot, delicious liquid, giving it the respect it deserved. Nat made great coffee.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, after swallowing reverently. “My Instagram account was hacked and my sponsors have deserted me.”

  “I saw.” She scrunched her nose. “I follow you, remember?”

  Of course she’d seen it. I’d been locked out of my account for a few days, and it had been beyond ugly.

  “When anyone Googled me, they used to get perfectly good naked photos. Now they get carnage.”

  Nat leaned closer, dropping her voice. “Nake
d photos from your stroll through the park? Did you really do that, or was it faked for the camera?”

  “I really did it. And it was fun. You should try it sometime.”

  She laughed, letting out one of her sudden guffaws that always made me smile. “I promise that will never happen.”

  “It was World Naked Day. That’s a real thing, you know. I didn’t make it up.” I had to add that, because it was totally the kind of international holiday I would invent.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t get arrested.”

  “There were only a few joggers around. But I did happen to stroll close to a couple of guys doing yoga on the grass. They were looking up at me, and that’s my best angle.” I winked. “Their downward facing dogs may have gained an upward facing tilt.”

  “You didn’t so much as blush?”

  “Nope. It felt good. I had the grass between my toes and the wind in my hair.” I nodded to my lap. “All of my hair.”

  “That’s what I was wondering.” She dropped her voice even lower, though there was nobody else sitting at the café’s outdoor tables. Or the indoor ones, for that matter. “What level of grooming did you choose for your naked stroll? Full bush, landing strip, total nude?”

  “Semi-full bush, but with tidy pruning. Short back and sides, so to speak.”

  The photos had been taken from behind, showing nothing more explicit than my ample bare bottom, love handles, and what little side boob I had to offer. But exposing a hairless vajayjay to the park’s early morning exercisers would have been a step too far. Even for me.

  “Wise choice.” Nat nodded her approval. “Tasteful coverage.”

  “I had a ton of positive feedback from young women who thought I was brave to show my cellulite. And my caption about the brand of moisturizer I was using to prevent my naked thighs from chafing paid my rent for a month.”

  Nat’s coffee cup froze halfway to her lips, her eyes widening. “Really? They gave you that much money?”

  I sighed wistfully. “Can you believe it? Encouraging body positivity, and getting paid for it? Best job in the world. At least, it was.”