My Best Friend's Brother: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Lauren Wood

  We sat on comfortable lawn chairs on her wooden deck, looking out over the backyard and the setting sun. She liked wine, as most Italians did, and never failed to have it on hand. “If you’re worried about Izzy,” she said without my telling her what was wrong, “don’t.”

  “You don’t even know what the issue is.”

  Nell sipped her wine, watching me over the rim. “I know you, and I know her.”

  “You think I’m trying to get her into bed,” I accused, taking a drink of my own wine. Nell sure has good taste in the stuff, I’ll give her that.

  “I know you aren’t,” Nell replied. “If that’s all you wanted, you wouldn’t be here with your panties in a twist.”

  “They are not in a twist.”

  She flapped her hand. “Whatever.”

  I drank my wine, trying not to let her goad me. She always did have a way of poking me in the right spot, and that may be one reason I tormented them both as kids. A sort of get her before she gets me reasoning. “I like and respect her too much to simply just – you know.”

  “And?”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “She won’t let me get close to her.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Nell commented, staring out over the yard. “You were a jerk, an asshole, and whored yourself all over creation. There were times I was ashamed you were my brother.”

  I know I blushed, for I felt my face heat up like a blast furnace. “Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

  “But I’m not now,” she went on, looking at me. “I’m damn proud to be your sister. But Izzy is touchy, Jack. While you were in Europe, she had two boyfriends. Both screwed her over, and now she’s as prickly as a cactus and defensive.”

  “I had no idea,” I said, awed. “That poor kid.”

  “No, she won’t tell you, so if you ask, she’ll clam up,” Nell continued. “The only reason I’m telling you is that if you want to get close to her, you have to back off.”

  I nodded. “Let her start to trust without any pressure.”

  “I always knew you were smart.” Nell laughed.

  “I always was a womanizer,” I retorted. “I do know a few things about you girls.”

  “But not enough, my dear child.” She smirked, then went on. “Izzy never talked about you, never asked, and I never pushed her to it. I honestly have no idea what her feelings are toward you. She may hate your guts, and you’ll find that out the hard way. She needed the job, or she wouldn’t have accepted your offer. So what do you need to talk about, now that I’ve told you everything I know?”

  “I think you already did,” I replied. “That she’s afraid of getting hurt again. You already know that I had a crush on her back then.”

  “I know you did. And I never told her that.”

  “Well.” I cleared my throat, then drank more wine. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her.”

  Nell nodded slowly. “I guessed that by how quick you were to offer her the job. Had you harbored bad feelings, you wouldn’t have. This company is too important to you.”

  “You do know too much,” I complained. “I’m gonna start keeping secrets.”

  “Please. You can’t hide anything from me.”

  “I can if I put my mind to it.”

  We sat in silence for a time as the sun dipped behind some clouds, making the sunset tolerable. “So if you came here for advice,” Nell said finally, “then I gave it to you. Just have some patience with her. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I love her, Jack.” Nell turned to me, her eyes fierce. “You hurt her, and I will never forgive you.”

  I couldn’t get Izzy out of my mind.

  Smart, funny, personable, and a real credit to my business. The clients would love her, wish they could fuck her, but hey – if that’s what helps to make them spend their money, then great.

  Now that was real nice, Jacky boy. Aren’t you a real prince. Using Izzy’s fine looks to bring the customers in.

  Regretting my chauvinistic and lewd thoughts, I drank my beer while watching the game on the tube. As it was the weekend, the office was closed, but as a realtor who must be available at the whims of the clients, I was working. Thus, when my cell buzzed, I felt no surprise at all.

  I felt it none the same when I saw the caller was Izzy.

  “Happy Sunday afternoon to you,” I said cheerfully.

  “Jack.”

  The tension in her voice hit my ear hard across the invisible airwaves. Slightly alarmed, I lifted the remote and turned the volume down on the big, flat panel television. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, maybe, I don’t know.” While she didn’t sound near tears, I heard the definite crack in her voice. “I told Nellie, and she insisted I tell you. I don’t know why.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Part of me feared something had happened to her Mom, and now she would be forced to quit her job. Another part of me thought that if that happened, she’d come straight out and tell me. But this hesitant uncertainty was not at all like the tough, straight talking Izzy I knew.

  “Jack, it’s so stupid,” she went on and took a deep breath. “I got sexted.”

  For a moment I stared at the silent game, completely flummoxed. “Sexted? Surely you don’t think I –”

  “No, I know damn well you wouldn’t do this,” she replied, her tone hot and defensive. “I never even thought it, nor did Nellie.”

  “What is it that you got?”

  She laughed harshly. “A photo of a guy’s very hard pecker.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t recognize the number, but it’s a local area code.”

  I cleared my throat. “I hate to ask this, but – did you recognize it?”

  “Jack!”

  “No, no, wait, don’t be mad.” I wondered how to say it, then simply blurted, “Nell told me about a couple of past boyfriends, Izzy, I don’t mean to get into your personal life, that’s not it. I’m just wondering if one of them is behind this.”

  Izzy sniffed. “Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. But no, it’s not one of theirs. And to be truthful, neither cared enough about me to want to play games. And they’re both gone. One’s in Denver, the other somewhere in California, I think.”

  “I’m sorry, I hated to bring up a painful past.”

  “You were right to think it, though. I didn’t realize Nellie had told you about them.”

  “Not in any detail, just that they weren’t very nice.”

  “Jack, I called because I don’t know what to do. Whoever sent this is a real sicko.”

  “Did you delete it?”

  “No.”

  “Then the first thing we do is show it to the cops and make a police report.”

  “We?”

  “You think I’m gonna let you walk into the cop shop with a pecker picture all by yourself?”

  Izzy laughed, a far healthier sound than earlier. “You don’t have to. I can make the report by myself.”

  “No way.” I glanced at the time. “I have a showing in a few hours. I can come pick you up.”

  Izzy hesitated, then said, “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  “I know I have your address somewhere, but give it to me again and I’ll Google it.”

  Izzy gave it to me, and I memorized it to plug into my phone’s navigation. Hattiesburg might be a small town, but a few things have changed. “I’m on my way.”

  “Thanks, Jack.”

  “No prob.”

  I clicked the game off and got up from the couch. Since my return to Hattiesburg, I rented a decent enough house with plans to purchase or build another outside of town in the country. I wanted several acres for privacy, a pool, and a very large deck. This one, a three-bedroom, two bathroom in a quiet neighborhood would serve until I had the company bringing in good cash.

  I shoved my wallet into my jeans pocket, grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter, and went outside. A few kids played in the street under the watchful eyes of a parent, laughi
ng and yelling to one another. Sprinklers watered lawns, the silver spray twinkling under the late spring sunlight. I waved to the parents, then climbed into my truck.

  Nell had told me that Izzy lived in a cheap apartment on the poorer side of town, but I had no idea her building resembled something from a New York or Chicago slum. Izzy waited out front, sitting on the stoop in jeans and a tank top, and no kids played outside. Here the parents keep an even closer watch on their children.

  Izzy strode toward me as I pulled up to the curb, not giving me the chance to show off my gentlemanly skills and open the door for her. She climbed inside, smiling, but her expression was taut, tense. I didn’t know if that was because of me or the nasty text she got.

  “Hi,” she said, putting her seat belt on.

  “Hi, back.” I eyed her stiff posture, the faint flush in her cheeks, the way she watched me warily. “Are you okay?”

  Izzy nodded. “This has me spooked,” she admitted, pulling her phone from her pocket. She tapped a few times, then showed me the picture.

  It was a man’s erect cock all right, sticking straight out from its thatch of pubic hair, and in comparing it to the hint of a paunch above it, it wasn’t even four inches long. I grimaced.

  “How can Debbie think I’d be attracted to that?” I asked. “That’s not enough to satisfy a rabbit.”

  Izzy laughed and shut down the picture. “You do have a way of putting things into perspective.”

  I drove toward the sheriff’s station and glanced sidelong at Izzy. “You have a right to be spooked,” I told her. “There’s nothing normal or right about this.”

  “I hate to sound bitchy,” she replied, her voice tense, “but why me? Why do I attract the creepy ones? I’m sorry to complain, I don’t want to, but this is ridiculous.”

  “I know, right? I hear what you’re saying. But just know I’m here for you.”

  I kept my eyes on what little Sunday traffic there was, but felt Izzy studying my profile. What conclusion she came to, I had no idea, but she said, “Thanks, it means a lot,” and sounded as though she meant it.

  “Too many of us guys think they’re God’s gift to women,” I said lightly. “This guy obviously thinks far too highly of his schlong.”

  “Schlong?” Izzy chuckled. “I haven’t heard that word in forever. And yeah, it’s not even very big and thin as a pencil.”

  “Now, take mine for instance,” I said with a meaningful look at her, waggling my eyebrows.

  “Oh, don’t even go there,” Izzy cried, laughing. “I do not want to know.”

  “I think I have something to boast about.”

  “Jack, we are not here to compare dicks, okay?”

  “I’m just saying.”

  By her genuine smile, and the lack of tension in her expression, I had succeeded in jollying her out of her worries. “This will probably turn out to be a one-time deal, and when he gets no response, this ape will turn his attention to someone else.”

  “I hope so.”

  Parking in the sheriff’s office parking lot, a building combined with the district courthouse, I got out. Again, Izzy didn’t wait for me to open the door for her but walked close beside me as we headed for the main doors. They were locked, and a uniformed deputy behind a counter buzzed us in. We crossed the very small lobby to him, and he spoke from behind a thick glass wall.

  “How can I help you folks?”

  7

  Izzy

  Feeling stupidly embarrassed, I found it difficult to tell the cop about the texted picture I received and felt extremely grateful for Jack’s steady presence beside me. “I, er, got a vulgar text from someone I don’t know,” I told the cop. “I want to report it.”

  The deputy gestured with a pen toward a small row of plastic chairs. “Have a seat, and I’ll send someone out to you.”

  Jack sent me a quick wink as we turned back to sit and wait. He leaned toward me and whispered, “I bet this is a first for this hick town. A huge sexting ring.”

  I shouldn’t laugh at his jokes, but I couldn’t help it. I realized why Jack made his outrageous comments – to make me feel better. And it worked. Once I saw what this joker sent me, I was mad, scared, disgusted, and knew I had drawn the attention of a real sick bastard. And that really had me worried.

  But Jack helped my negativity enormously, and I was glad I called him. I grinned at his little joke and brushed my shoulder against his. “The cops will have to ask all the suspects to drop their pants,” I whispered back.

  “Pencil dicks to the fore.”

  Now that really got me going, and I laughed into my cupped hands, trying not to make the cop wonder what we were up to. “Now that’s just wrong.”

  Jack grinned, his dark eyes lighting up in that way I had seen before – and liked very much. When he looked at me like that, I felt he was seeing me, a real person with a brain and emotions and a soul. Not a blonde who happened to be born with the right bone structure.

  Before he spoke, a door opened and a big deputy stood there and beckoned. “If you’ll come – hey, Jack, is that you?”

  Jack stood up, chuckling, and went to give the cop a quick embrace. “Dennis, you bitch. I didn’t know you joined the force.”

  The cop laughed, and I stood up as well, following Jack. “I heard you were back in town, but I haven’t had a chance to come by and say hello.”

  Jack turned toward me. “You remember Isabelle Naveau, don’t you? Izzy, I played football with this moron. Dennis Rader, like the Wichita serial killer.”

  Dennis rolled his eyes as he shook my hand. “Shit, man, don’t say that. Yeah, I remember you, Isabelle. The prettiest girl in school.”

  While I didn’t remember Dennis’s face, I did remember the name. The poor guy never got any peace by having that handle attached to him. I smiled. “Been a while, Dennis.”

  “Come on back, I’ll take your report.”

  Jack and I went with him into the sheriff’s station, observing the Sunday afternoon quiet of a small town. A couple of other deputies sat at desks staring at computers, and Dennis led us to another one. He gestured to a pair of chairs, then sat behind the desk.

  “Okay,” he said, typing on his computer. “What’s going on?”

  I glanced at Jack for support, then pulled my phone out. “I got a text from someone I don’t know.”

  I pulled up the picture, then passed my phone to Dennis. He glanced at it, then grimaced in disgust. “He doesn’t have much to boast about, does he?”

  Jack laughed. “Neither do you, from what I remember.”

  Dennis sent him a pained look and the finger. “You don’t know this guy?” he asked me.

  “No. Nor is it a past boyfriend coming back to haunt me.”

  Dennis typed on his computer. “You’ll have to send that to my phone, as much as I hate to say it. That way I can get it into my report.”

  He asked me a few other questions regarding who might have sent it, my disgusted thoughts about it, and my worries. “Unsolicited sexting is a crime,” Dennis commented, his eyes on me. “You didn’t solicit this, Isabelle?”

  “Hell, no,” I snapped. “The last thing I need is some wacko sending me pictures of his hard on. I’m very happy in my singlehood.”

  He typed more into his computer. He asked me where I lived, where I worked, his brows rising when I told him I now worked for Jack. “Jack, you wouldn’t be harassing your new personal assistant, now would you?”

  “Should I drop my pants and prove it?”

  “Eww, no thanks. The sight of your hairy nuts will kill my appetite. Okay, we can rule out Jack. He liked boys, anyway.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No, I like girls, but thanks for thinking of me. Now Isabelle, is there anyone else who might have hassled you lately?”

  Dennis might have dropped a bomb in my lap with the sudden bright light that exploded in my head. I turned to Jack at the same moment he turned to me. “Oh, shit.”

  Dennis hiked his brows.
“Oh, shit?”

  “An employee of mine,” Jack said, the fun and games out of his expression, “now a former employee, had pinned Izzy against her car Friday.”

  His eyes now narrowed and intent, Dennis glanced between us. “Pray tell. Isabelle, you first.”

  “His name’s Roger Andrews,” I said. “I didn’t like him, but he was always staring at me, hitting on me. Friday, I went to my car, and he asked me out.”

  Dennis typed. “I’m guessing you said no?”

  “Yeah. I had dropped my keys, and he wouldn’t give them back.” I rubbed my face, remembering how I had planned to knee him in the family jewels and decided I’d better tell Dennis that. “As I felt threatened, I was going to kick him where it hurts guys the most, then report it. Keeping me against my will.”

  “That’s a felony. Then what happened?”

  “Jack showed up, threatened to fire him, then blacklist him among realtors. And also threatened to help me sue him for sexual harassment.”

  “Jack, your turn.”

  “I did plan to fire him for not just what he was doing, but also for his shitty attitude,” Jack replied. “He quit on the spot, then took off. I expect he’ll come to the office tomorrow to pack up his shit.”

  Dennis picked up my phone and peered at it. “Is that your guy’s number?”

  Jack opened his own phone and compared the numbers. “No.”

  Looking at Izzy’s phone, Dennis copied the number into his report. “I’ll see what I can find out about the owner of this number.”

  “Think it’ll show Andrews’s name?” Jack asked.

  “Don’t know. If I wanted to cyber stalk someone, I wouldn’t use my own name. So, right now we don’t have real proof that this guy is behind the sexting.” Dennis continued to type. “Unless I can get a search warrant to search his phones and his pants, which is doubtful, there isn’t anything more I can do.”

  He leaned back in his chair, the badge on his left shoulder winking in the light. “But, you filed a police report, and if there is any more of this, Isabelle, you give me a call. Okay?”