Foolish Games: Cartwright Brothers, book 3

by Lilliana Anderson

  Abbot coughed and wound down his window. “Following instructions is already a bust.”

  “Fucking hell,” Kristian said before he headed to the back of the Ute and lifted the tray cover. He returned with a towel.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said, feeling better for puking, but shitty for getting it everywhere.

  “It’s the concussion,” he said as he cleaned it up. I tried to help but he pushed my hands away. “You think you can manage to hold it in for twenty minutes?” The absence of emotion in his voice made me feel even worse. I nodded.

  “Good,” he said, throwing the towel on the ground behind him. “Because now you owe me a towel and you need to clean the car. Looks like we’re off to a great start, slave.” If I had anything left in my stomach, I might have puked at that. Instead, I was left with a sour taste in my mouth as we drove toward who the fuck knew what….

  Chapter Three

  All The Space In The Room

  “Make her lie down. She’s no good to you dead.” Abbot and Kristian were arguing while I thanked my lucky stars Kristian’s Ute had a leather interior—it made the clean up so much easier. We’d arrived at the quaint little beach house about fifteen minutes before. I’d been immediately shown to the cleaning products and instructed to remove all traces of my mishap. It was hard to do when I kept trying not to puke again.

  “When she’s finished with the Ute. I don’t want it to stink,” Kristian replied as he stood and watched me with his arms across his chest. Abbot shook his head.

  “Look at her, mate. She’s pale as fuck. Let her do it tomorrow.”

  “I’m almost done,” I called out, wiping over the leather to dry it before spraying some deodoriser in the cabin. Then I opened the window a crack to let the fresh air in and closed it up.

  “See? She’s tougher than you think,” Kristian said, walking over to me and taking hold of my upper arm.

  It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either. He walked me into the house. “There’s a bathroom in there. Get cleaned up and you can sleep on the couch.”

  “Should I sleep in my clothes?” I pulled at the uniform white button-up I was wearing from work. There was a small stain on the front from my earlier puking incident. It needed to be washed.

  “Take a shirt from the second drawer down. We’ll get your shit tomorrow.”

  I baulked. I really didn’t want him taking me to ‘get my shit’. He didn’t need to see where I lived.

  “The shirt is fine. Thanks.”

  “I’m right here listening,” he reminded me. “Leave the doors open.”

  Nodding, I went into what appeared to be the main bedroom, soft blue walls with yellow windowpanes. There was a surfboard with medals hanging off it on the wall and your typical pine bedroom furniture. I wasn’t sure if this was Kristian’s bedroom or just somewhere he stayed, because it didn’t have a lot of personal stuff in it and the drawers he’d directed me to didn’t have more than a few items of clothes inside. But it was nice, the kind of house a beach lover would dream of.

  Taking my newly acquired shirt into the bathroom, I set it on the towel rack then went to the sink and turned on the tap. I would have preferred a shower, but since I had to leave the doors open, I figured some water and toothpaste would have to do.

  When I rinsed out my mouth, I pulled my hair away from my neck and looked in the mirror. I was pale all over and my hazel eyes were sunken. No wonder Abbot was insisting I lie down.

  When I stripped off my clothes, I tried to listen for any movement or voices so I’d know how close they were. But all I could hear was the muted sound of a television. Still, to be safe, I dropped the T-shirt over my head and removed my bra through the sleeves so I couldn’t be caught half naked. I would have left it on, but I could never sleep with underwire poking into me.

  Moving back into the room, I stared longingly at the bed. It had been a long time since I’d been on one, my living situation had been…unusual these past months, and the temptation was simply too much to bear. I walked over and sat down.

  “Simple luxury,” I whispered as the soft down pressed beneath my thighs. They won’t miss me if I lie here for a few minutes. Lifting my legs, I lowered myself onto the big pillows and folded my arms across my chest, sighing happily to myself as the bed hugged me like the memory of a better time, a better life. “This feels so good.” I revelled in the softness as the aches in my body drifted away, telling myself I was going to go back out there in a minute.

  “Just one more minute,” I murmured.

  A bed. Soft and warm. I wasn’t hot. I wasn’t cold. Like Goldilocks, I was just right.

  I also wasn’t alone. Oh shit! I fell asleep.

  “Where do you think you’re goin?” a sleepy voice asked from beside me, his head buried in the pillow, his arm draped across my waist.

  Was he spooning me all night?

  “Unless you want me to piss the bed, I’m going to the toilet.”

  He sat up and rubbed his face, looking at me with sleepy eyes. “Go on then.” His voice sounded like gravel as he nodded toward the bathroom door.

  Swinging my legs out of the bed, I stood carefully, my body aching even more than it did last night, my knee especially. With a limp, I made it to the small en-suite bathroom.

  “Leave the door open.”

  “Seriously?” I said. “The window in here is tiny.”

  “So are you, doll. And I have zero trust where you’re concerned.”

  “Is that why you hugged me in your sleep all night?”

  “That’s why I held you in place all night. A man needs to sleep without worrying about escaping car thieves.”

  “That seems like a ridiculous reason, especially since I was supposed to be on the couch.”

  He shrugged. “You were passed out with a concussion. I didn’t know when you’d wake up from it, and I was tired.”

  “But there’s two of you. You could have taken turns or better yet, tie me to the bed so I couldn’t escape. Have you never watched a kidnapping movie?”

  “You saying you’d rather I tied you to the bed?”

  “I’m saying I’d rather you didn’t hug me.”

  His mouth quirked into a grin as he leaned back, holding himself up on his forearms. The angle gave me a perfect view of his shirtless chest, and flexed abs.

  Holy heaven and hell, he has the body of a god.

  My mouth went dry and I struggled to swallow.

  “Just go and pee. I’m not gonna look.”

  Stepping into the tiny bathroom, I sighed then plopped down on the toilet to do my thing. He couldn’t see much more than my legs, but still, it took a moment to get the stream going. Peeing in front of one of my least liked acquaintances sucked.

  “So, which one are you anyway?” I called out, hoping conversation would make this a little easier.

  “Which one what?”

  “Which twin.”

  “You can’t tell already?”

  “You look exactly the same to me. Same face, same height, same smile, and same hair.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. The hair was to tease Alesha, our sister-in-law. It was her wedding yesterday. I used to shave my head and Abs used the have hair to his shoulders. We got the same do just before the wedding for a laugh.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Kinda. She freaked out, but she could still tell us apart.”

  “How?” I appeared in the doorway after finishing and washing up.

  He shrugged. “Mannerisms, I guess. She lived with us for a while, got to know us individually.”

  “So there’s nothing about your looks that’s different?”

  “Of course there is. I have a freckle on my chin, right here.” He lifted his chin up and pointed to the tiny brown fleck. “Abbot does not.”

  “Lucky I’m short enough to see beneath your chin.”

  “Lucky I don’t care if you can tell us apart or not.”

  Inhaling slowly, I met his cool gaze, his mouth set in
a straight line. I was going to have to be on my guard around him. He flipped from personable to teasing to indifferent quickly and effortlessly. That was fine, I’d handled more than my fair share of irrational men in my time. Johno wasn’t all sunshine and roses, and the guy I was with before him got angry when he drank. I could manage Kristian Cartwright.

  “How’s this supposed to work anyhow?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. The T-shirt I was wearing was so big it almost touched my knees. “I don’t leave your sight until I’ve mowed enough lawns to cover the cost of your car door?”

  He stood up and sniffed. “Something like that.”

  There was something about seeing a man as enormous as Kristian uncurling his body and straightening his shoulders. It was kind of like watching the Incredible Hulk emerge out of Bruce Banner’s body. And judging by the bulge in Kristian’s boxer briefs, like Hulk, this guy was big all over.

  He sauntered past me, going straight for the toilet where he flopped his dick out and took a leak. He obviously had no shame, and I wasn’t about to let him think he was making me uncomfortable. I stood there and looked straight at him as I spoke.

  “And how long is that going to take? I have a job, you know? Responsibilities. I don’t come from some silver spoon-giving family like you obviously do.”

  Placing the lid of the toilet down, he flushed then pointed at the closed lid. “Sit.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to take a fuckin’ shower and I need you where I can see you.”

  “Why can’t Abbot watch me?”

  “Because he isn’t here. He left last night. Will be back when he’s done surfing.”

  Surfing. I hadn’t been in months. I didn’t have a board anymore, because I had nowhere to store it. I missed the surf.

  I sighed. My arms were still folded over my chest as I moved toward the toilet and sat on the lid. “This is harassment you know.”

  “And scratching the shit out of my car is vandalism; stealing it and spending my money is theft. Don’t use the fucking law on me, doll. We both know we’re way past that.” He turned the shower on, holding his hand under the spray until steam started to rise and he was happy with the temperature. Then he stripped, completely naked, save for a few leather and twine straps around his wrist, then he got in.

  I tried not to look. I really did. But I’d seen the bulge and I wanted to know if he was all balls, or whether his dick took up a chunk of that space too. I was pleased to report that he was very well proportioned.

  “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he said as he started rubbing soap all over his body.

  I crossed my legs, feeling warm in places I probably shouldn’t.

  “Can’t blame a girl for looking, mate. You made me sit here.”

  He grinned at me through the glass then dipped his hair under the stream, soaping it up then rinsing himself off. The whole thing took about three minutes, but it felt more like half an hour of slow soapy seduction.

  I think I need a shower now. A very cold one.

  Kristian Cartwright might have been a jerk, but he was an obscenely good-looking one. His whole family was, actually. It really didn’t seem fair that they should all be blessed with such good looks, height, and wealth. It seemed greedy to a short, poor woman who was only decently attractive. They were probably all brilliantly smart too.

  Shutting off the water, he ran his hands over his hair then down his arms and body like a squeegee, flicking water off before stepping out of the cubicle and grabbing a towel. As he dried off his hair, I watched the muscles in his arse flex and relax. It was mesmerising.

  I forced myself to look away. “So, um, what time do we start this mowing thing?” It was so weird that he wanted me to mow lawns to pay him back.

  Securing the towel around his waist he shrugged then walked out of the bathroom.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “What are we supposed to do today?”

  “I’ll find something for you to do. This place needs a clean.”

  “So I’m a maid too?”

  “You’re whatever I want you to be.”

  “OK. Can I start with the laundry? My work uniform is a mess and I can’t really wear this all day.” I gestured to the stretched-out shirt.

  “I’d rather you didn’t wear that one at all. It’s actually one of my favourite shirts, and you’re messing it up by being inside it.”

  “You’re a jerk,” I shot back. “Here. Take your damn shirt.” I reached for the hem and pulled it over my head. “I‘d rather wear my puke clothes.” I threw it at him then noticed how cool the air was against my skin. Shit. I didn’t think that one through. Now I was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a tiny pair of purple panties.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes took in my chest. One of my more redeeming qualities—You have a great rack, sweetheart—as well as my arse. Men were one or the other, and I happened to have a decent set of each.

  “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” I said, staring straight at him defiantly, my shoulders back. Two could play at this game.

  Leaning down, he picked up the shirt and threw it back to me. “Put it back on,” he commanded, his voice a little thicker. “It’s yours now. You’ve already ruined it.” Then he turned to the chest of drawers and started getting dressed himself, pulling on a pair of camouflage pants and a polo shirt that said ‘Cartwright Garden Maintenance’.

  “I thought we weren’t mowing today.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Unmoving, I wracked my brains for something else to say. I didn’t know what I was trying to do or what I was trying to get out of this situation. I just knew I felt stuck and my instincts told me to fight.

  “I said get dressed.” He glared at me, his jaw ticking.

  “Make me.” What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be taunting a man twice my size! But, I couldn’t help myself.

  He inhaled in a way that told me I was really starting to piss him off. His shoulders seemed to get broader and his eyes darker. It seemed his nostrils were flaring too.

  “Put the fucking shirt on.”

  “No.” This was half of my problem in life. I had huge issues with authority figures, and every time someone told me to do something, I dug my heels in and refused to budge. It didn’t matter if I was right or wrong. I just didn’t want to be told.

  He stalked toward me, so fast that my eyes fluttered closed expecting some sort of impact. Instead, I felt the breeze of his body as it stopped in front of mine then crouched down, scooping the shirt off the floor. When he stood, his clothing grazed my nipples and I sucked in my breath. Then the shirt came down over my head.

  “I said no,” I argued, springing to action, pushing the fabric away again.

  “Stop behaving like child,” he growled, catching me around the waist and keeping the fabric in place.

  “I’m not a child. You’re just treating me like one.”

  “That’s because you’re behaving like one.”

  I bit him.

  “Fuck.” He jerked back and I threw the T-shirt back on the floor.

  “I don’t want your fucking shirt,” I yelled.

  “You’re insane,” he said, his eyes going wide before he came at me again, this time pushing me onto the bed and pinning me with his knees around my waist. I struggled and scratched, but he caught my hands and forced the shirt over my body. By the time he got it to my waist, we were both panting and out of breath with his hands pinning mine beside my shoulders.

  “Get off me, jerk,” I spat, twisting my hands beneath his.

  He didn’t move. He just kept staring at me, drinking me in, the fury in his eyes slowly fading and being replaced by something else: hunger. A heat seemed to build in the air between us, crackling with electricity, growing thicker with each ragged breath. My heart thumped solidly. This was far too intimate. And to add to the insanity, my mind dared him to lean closer and do more than just pin me.

  “Kris!” The fro
nt door slammed and he jerked back, blinking a couple of times like he was coming out of a trance. I sat up and shook the moment from my head, scowling. I don’t want him. He’s nothing but a jerk, same as all the others.

  “In here,” he said. Holding his hand out to help me up.

  I slapped it away and stood up on my own, pulling the shirt in place and walking straight past him into the bathroom. He didn’t stop me this time. He knew what it would have looked like if Abbot saw the state we were in.

  “Where is she?” Abbot asked, his voice coming from the bedroom now.

  “Bathroom.”

  I turned on the tap and splashed cool water on my face before cupping my hand under it and taking a drink.

  “She give you any trouble?”

  I heard him blow out his breath. “Nah. None at all.”

  “Good. I’ve got some food in the kitchen. Tobes said he’s comin’ by with some shit for her.”

  “Sure,” Kristian said, sounding a little detached from the conversation.

  “Come on then.”

  “Give me a sec.”

  “Why? Did I interrupt you fucking?”

  I heard a thud then a chuckle mixed with the word, “Ow.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realise she was so special.”

  “Fuck off, Abs. She’s not,” Kristian said, and for some reason that declaration caused a slight pang in my gut. “I just need a fucking minute.”

  There was quiet for a moment then Abbot’s footsteps receded until I was sure he left the room. Once the sound of a chair scraping reached my ears, I turned around, ready to go back into the bedroom and put my dirty uniform back on so I wasn’t wearing this fucking shirt anymore. Of course, Kristian was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his giant body taking up all the space in the room.

  “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

  I folded my arms across my middle and met his eyes. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. As far as I’m concerned, nothing happened.” The other half of my problem was that I was too proud. I didn’t want a single thing from anyone—not even an apology. My mother used to call me ‘Blue’ because I was always fighting over something, even when there was nothing to fight about.