Fool Me Twice

by Lilliana Anderson

  “It’s not. It’s just that Nate plays his own game outside the family. A game I don’t agree with.”

  “What game? I don’t understand. Are you talking about his investments?”

  He laughed at that. “Yeah, his investments. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “What do you mean? Is there something I’m not aware of that I should be? What investments does he have?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to take up with him. But if you ask me, it’s probably better if you don’t know.”

  Better if I don’t know? Those words resonated deepest. Toby was a thief, just like Nate was a thief. But if Nate was into something that Toby didn’t agree with, then what the hell was it? What could be worse in another criminal’s eyes? Guns? Black-market organs? It was something I was going to take up with my husband. I barely coped with the idea of him stealing, Lord knew what I’d do if it was something worse.

  When we got out of the car, I was more confused than ever. I’d been angry all day about our argument this morning, and now I was questioning exactly how loose my husband’s morals were.

  “Come on, Holland,” Toby urged when I didn’t move right away. “He’s waiting.”

  “Do you like your job, Toby?” I asked as he followed me up to the apartment. I kept running our conversation through my head and wanted to know what he meant by ‘legitimate dreams’.

  “If I answer truthfully, will it stay between us?”

  “Of course.” I was a firm believer that a person’s secrets weren’t to be shared with anyone except the people they chose to share them with.

  He stopped on the staircase, and I turned to face him. With our height difference, we were basically eye to eye. “I hate it. Always have. Always will.”

  “Have you ever tried to be something else?”

  “Jasmine won’t allow it. Let’s go.” He gestured for me to keep moving. I obliged, but I had more questions.

  “Toby,” I started, but he cut me off before I could say anymore.

  “Your husband’s waiting for you, Holland.” He was obviously done talking.

  When we got upstairs, Toby pushed the front door open to reveal an apartment full of furniture and a champagne-wielding husband.

  “Welcome home, duchess,” Nate said. Despite my troubled mind, I melted. He looked like he was fresh from the shower, wearing the jeans I loved because they hugged his arse just right, along with a soft cotton T-shirt in dark grey. Other than that, he had a sparkle in his eye and nothing on his feet. He looked like a wet dream.

  The stress of the day slid from my body and I fell into his arms, deciding that my questions didn’t need to be an angry confrontation. I didn’t want to attack him and sound ungrateful when he’d just given me back a massive piece of my life. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it until I walked through the door.

  “I’m sorry for biting your head off this morning,” I said, resting my head against his chest.

  “Don’t even mention it.” He kissed the top of my head, then handed me champagne. Taking it, I turned around to offer some to Toby, but he was gone.

  “Where did he go?” I looked back to Nate.

  “Toby? He left once he walked you to the door.”

  “He’s a strange man,” I noted, taking a seat on my couch—my original couch, not the replacement one. I’d forgotten how comfy it was—and let out a sigh. It was good to be home.

  “How so?” Nate asked, coming to sit beside me. I wasn’t going to say he was a pussycat like Alesha thought, I wasn’t there yet. But he hadn’t been as cold or cruel today. Weird.

  “He was talking about living in the same house as everyone else because he was renting out his own place for extra cash. Made a comment about not being as well off as you, then said something about you playing your own game?”

  Nate released an amused burst of air and slid his arm around my shoulders. “He’s just pissed about his own life choices.”

  “It sounded a lot like he didn’t agree with the way you’ve invested your money.” I touched lightly on the subject to gauge his reaction.

  “He was given the same opportunities that I was. He just chose not to take them. But there’s a lot of history there. Toby’s always hated risks. Which is why he tends to be the driver and lookout. I trust him more than anyone in my life though.”

  “More than me?”

  He chuckled, then kissed the side of my head. “It’s a different kind of trust. You, I trust with my heart. Toby, I trust with my life. He’s always had my back. It’s why he was the one who went and got you today—you’re a part of that life.”

  Sipping at my champagne, I thought about his words and wondered if that meant that he didn’t trust his other brothers, and what about his mother? Did he trust her? With a sigh, I rested my head against Nate’s shoulder. My brain had begun to ache with the complexities of his family dynamic. I’d probably never understand it, but I was going to keep trying, question by question, puzzle piece by puzzle piece until I had the full picture.

  With a sigh, I took in my full apartment. It felt good to be back home. “Thank you for doing this. I’ve missed this place.”

  “Me too. Goliath and I have a lot of fond memories within these walls,” he said, looking around and nodding.

  Smiling at his response, I looked up and sucked gently against his throat. “Want to make some more?”

  “Let me check with Goliath first,” he joked, looking inside his pants. “Yeah, he’s up for it.”

  I giggled, watching the bulge in his pants grow. “Quite literally.”

  When I saw the glint in Nate’s eye, I knew he only had mischief on his mind. “He said he wouldn’t mind filling you out like an application.”

  I laughed at the euphemism, loving that he was such a loveable rogue. “You sure he doesn’t want to park his car in my garage?”

  He took my glass and set it on the coffee table before guiding me so I was straddling his lap. “Well, he is partial to a game of hide the sausage.”

  Laughing, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. “I love you, Nate,” I whispered as his hands roamed over my body.

  “I love you too, duchess,” he replied without a second’s hesitation. It was the first time he’d said it outright. My heart danced about in my chest. He loved me.

  I kissed him deeper. Despite everything I wished I could ignore, everything I still didn’t know, I was completely smitten by this man.

  But alongside love in a marriage is honesty. There was a lot I didn’t know, and probably a hell of a lot I didn’t want to know. Could love teach me to turn a blind eye and accept what he was? Or would his profession—his other life—become a cancer that slowly ate away at our relationship?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Teach Me

  “Do you still pickpocket?” I asked one night when I was lying on Nate’s chest. We’d made love and were having that post-coital talk that women loved and men wished would end so they could just go to sleep. He’d been playing with my ring and I wondered if he could remove it without me feeling it, the way he’d removed my earring the night he proposed.

  “Rarely. We did it a lot as teenagers, but we only do it out of necessity these days.”

  “When is it a necessity?”

  “It’s easier to get in when you have keys.”

  “I see. So you’ve quit robbing lonely women and are pickpocketing keys to let yourselves into someone’s house?”

  “You know we quit that scam. You are the last woman I ever went home with. On or off the job.” I grinned and blushed in response. I couldn’t even try to explain how happy that made me. “Our marks of late have been of both sexes and at work when we hit them.”

  Half of me wished he wasn’t telling me. The other half was eager to know more. “And how do you choose your marks?”

  “People on the inside.”

  “Like, in prison?”

  “No. We have people in a couple of insurance and security
companies. They give us information, and we pay them for their time and their silence.”

  “Aren’t you worried these people will talk?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not in their best interest to talk.”

  “I see.” I imagined they’d been threatened the same way Alesha and I had in the beginning. Do or die. “So you get your information and then what? You just steal their keys and go inside their house?”

  “If we were junkies, sure.” He smirked and tucked an arm behind his head.

  “Obviously I’m wrong.” I ran my fingers through the light smattering of hair on his chest. “OK then, expert thief, explain it to me.”

  “The more you know, the more you’re stuck with me.”

  “I’m already stuck with you, remember?” I flashed my ring at him and he chuckled.

  “Recon. We get the name of a mark, and then we watch them for a while, work out their movements, their habits. Then we formulate a plan based on that information and the items we’re planning to take. We don’t act until we have every detail down pat.”

  “Is that what you did with me?”

  “No.” He laughed while he said it. “It’s what we were doing with Alesha. Then Goliath messed up that plan and I followed him home with you, so we had to wing it. You see where that gets us.” He tapped his wedding ring against mine.

  “Happily married?” I batted my lashes at him.

  He kissed me. “Best bad decision I ever made.” His comment gave me butterflies.

  “So, is that why you took everything? Because you didn’t have a plan of what to take?”

  He nodded. “There’s normally more finesse to a job. Although, the second time, I was just messing with you. I was a little pissed that you kicked me out after our moment in your kitchen.”

  I thought back to said moment, remembering how he’d clenched his jaw when I’d told him we could never be.

  “That’s when you slipped something in my drink.”

  “Not my proudest moment.” That was right before he’d made the toast, “To the man who steals your heart.” In that moment, I never guessed it would be him.

  “Show me how you do it.”

  His brow knitted. “Slip people drugs?”

  “Pickpocket. I want to learn.”

  A smile curved his mouth. “All right. Get dressed and I’ll show you.”

  When we were both wearing clothes, Nate placed items in both our pockets: phone, wallet, envelopes, jewellery. Then he explained what I had to do.

  “It’s basically the art of misdirection,” he said, standing across from me in the living room. “Working in a pair is most effective, but with practice, you can do it on your own and your mark will have no clue until it’s too late. First, I’ll teach you a quick smash and grab. This is best done in a crowd because then it’s less obvious.”

  “I’m guessing by the title that you’re going to bump into me and take something.”

  He smiled. “Exactly. But there’s a technique. One, you have to know where the item is, and two, you need to lift it so they can’t feel it. Ready?”

  “Go for it.”

  We walked into each other and he bumped me like a rude pedestrian. When we were at opposite ends of the room, we faced each other again.

  “Without checking, what do you think I took?”

  I thought back to the way he’d knocked me and the things he’d slid into my front and back pockets. I decided he’d stolen from my back pocket, that had contained a mobile phone. “You took my phone,” I replied with confidence.

  He lifted his brow. “Your phone. You sure that’s the right answer?”

  I thought again. “Well I was, but not anymore.”

  He held up his left hand, my necklace dangling from his middle finger. Immediately my hand flew up to my neck.

  “How in the world?”

  “A ridiculous amount of practice.” He smiled. “Pockets are easier. Why don’t you try me?”

  We performed the pass again, except that time I knocked into him and attempted to take his wallet from his back pocket. It got caught and I got busted.

  “Again,” he said, moving back to our starting positions. “But this time, make sure you lift at the same time as the crash.” I tried several times, attempting each of his four pockets, but each time I either fumbled or he felt it.

  “This is really hard.”

  “It’s not meant to be easy. There’s an art to everything.”

  “So I’m beginning to see.”

  After many attempts and pointers on positioning and handwork, I got hold of something and grinned triumphantly as I stood across from him.

  “My wallet?” he asked.

  My grin broadened and I shook my head, holding up his phone. Pride overwhelmed his features moments before he crossed the room and lifted me in his arms, crashing his lips against mine. “I knew you had it in you, duchess.”

  “Now you’ll have to check your pockets every time I’m around you.”

  Thinking that was funny, he kissed my nose, then carried me back to bed and made sure I felt every touch.

  Over the coming weeks, he became my practise dummy. I’d decided that I wanted to master the art of emptying his pockets, and almost every hug was an opportunity to hone my skills. You’d think it would piss a man off to have his wallet, keys and phone lifted at random times throughout the day, but every time I called Nate back and showed him what I had, he was nothing less than impressed, even offering to teach me more.

  As I grew more competent, each successful grab brought me closer to understanding why Nate did what he did. It felt good, plain and simple. And it was a fun game. Well, until I came home one day, sick to my stomach over something I’d done.

  “Don’t teach me anymore,” I whispered once we were enclosed in the privacy of our own apartment and he’d asked what was wrong.

  Nate narrowed one eye. “What happened?”

  Reaching into my bag, I closed my eyes and retrieved what I took, holding out my shaky hand. It was a Mont Blanc pen. I’d stolen it. “I didn’t even think. I just saw this woman use it and slip it in her purse. Then I walked past and took it. What have I become?” Harried, I let the pen drop to the floor.

  Immediately, Nate wrapped me in his arms. “Duchess,” he whispered, pressing kisses against my head. “It’s OK.”

  “No,” I cried. “It’s not. Just don’t teach me anymore. Don’t tell me anymore either. I don’t want to know. I’m not equipped to carry the guilt.”

  “OK,” he whispered, his lips in my hair. “OK.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Playing Angles

  “Do you mind if we stay in the city this weekend too? I have a wedding I’m booked to sing at. It’s the last one for the year. I haven’t even had a chance to book anything else since meeting you, so this is kind of a one-time thing.”

  Nate and I sat across from each other at the breakfast table eating muesli, yogurt and fresh fruit. I was also sucking down a very strong coffee. I hadn’t been sleeping particularly well lately.

  “I’ve got some work this weekend.” He gave me a wary look, as if he expected me to explode. As far as I knew, he hadn’t been out on a job in weeks. As requested, he’d been keeping his illegal activities away from me, and I had refrained from asking.

  I swallowed my food and cleared my throat. “I see.”

  “I was kind of hoping you’d stay at the house with Jasmine and Alesha.”

  “Just us three all weekend?” I actually laughed. “Considering your mother barely tolerates me, and Alesha has become her doppelgänger twin, I’d rather not.” It had been nearly four months since our weddings. In that time, my best friend had completely ceased to be the person she once was. It pained me when she sided with Jasmine over me. And worse than that, I felt lonely without having a girlfriend to talk to. I missed her ridiculously. It was like she’d move from being under her father’s thumb, to being under Sam’s. As if she didn’t know how to function without a firm
boundary governing her behaviour. It saddened me and annoyed me at the same time. “I think I’ll just stay here on my own, thank you very much.”

  He pulled his lip back a little, wincing. “That’s not gonna happen, duchess.”

  I put my spoon back into my bowl. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not staying here by yourself.”

  “Why not? Just leave me a car and I’ll get myself to the wedding and back. It’s not like I haven’t driven myself places before. I did just fine taking care of myself for the thirty-two years before you came along to chauffeur me everywhere. Unless….” His eyes met mine, his jaw set tight. Oh. “Unless I’m not allowed to be unsupervised for extended periods of time.”

  He didn’t say anything, just dug his spoon into his bowl and shoved a mouthful of cereal past his lips.

  “Oh my God. That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t trust me not to run or go tell the cops everything I know. I’m still a fucking prisoner, aren’t I?” His eyes were dark and hooded as he stared back at me. “How was I too stupid not to see this before now?” I pushed my bowl to the side, suddenly not hungry.

  Nate dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter and wiped his mouth. “It’s for your own safety. You’re not a prisoner, Holland. You have your own phone, and you go to work and out shopping all the time. However, I do need to know where you are and who you’re with at all times.”

  “So, this is The Truman Show? I have the illusion of freedom, but I’m constantly being watched and monitored, is that it?”

  “I give you everything you want and then some. But there are also limitations that come with a life like ours. We didn’t get where we are without being careful. This life is new to you, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to take precautions to keep you and everyone else safe.” I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

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