No Laughing Matter: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy

by Hunter, Talia

  “Our families will spend every holiday together. And if we have a daughter, we’ll name her Trixie. Your granddaughter will be Trixie Watson-Lennox. A beautiful meld of our two happy families.”

  “Okay, stop it, Mason.” Kade raised his hands with a laugh. “You’re going to give Dad a heart attack for real. Tell him you’re joking.”

  “That would help,” Asher said. “Only Mason’s not joking.”

  I opened my mouth to tell Asher he was wrong. I’d just been biting back against Dad’s stubbornness, winding him up because there was no way I could get serious about Carlotta, even if I wanted to.

  But the words wouldn’t come out.

  All the things I’d said to provoke Dad? Maybe I was starting to resent the fact I couldn’t have them. My time with Carlotta was about to run out, and soon there’d be no more funny text messages, no more hospital gowns, or crazy photographs, or horizontal kisses. No more moon rockets, or peanut butter ice cream, or Chuck Norris jokes, or beautiful almond-colored eyes that always looked like they were smiling.

  Asher was right. I was head over heels for Carlotta.

  But I couldn’t have her. Not if I went back to Houston. And if I didn’t go to Houston, I couldn’t bring down Diamond. However many people Diamond hurt and killed, I’d always know I could have stopped it. I could have saved those lives.

  “You’d better be joking,” growled Dad. “I won’t have anything to do with the Watsons, and neither will you.”

  My anger rose along with my frustration, and I narrowed my eyes at Dad. “Trixie told me you put all the blame on her for your affair. Is that true?”

  His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he managed to form words. “It was all the fault of that harpy!”

  “Take responsibility, Dad. You owe her an apology.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  Kade frowned. “Not very gentlemanly.”

  “At least end your feud with her,” said Asher.

  Dad glared around at the three of us. “Oh, so you’re all against me now, is that it? You’re going to take her side?”

  “If you treated her badly, you should admit it and make amends,” I told him.

  “Never.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Kade the peacemaker spoke first.

  “Let’s change the subject. We’ve made our point, and now it’s up to Dad to do the right thing.”

  “I refuse to apologize to that—”

  “Dad, did you know there isn’t any meat in the meatballs?” Asher interrupted.

  “What?” Dad dropped his fork, his face jerking down to his plate.

  Kade gave an exasperated huff. “Don’t listen to Asher. What else would I have put in the meatballs? Soylent Green?”

  “Soylent what?” Dad’s hairy eyebrows dove together. “Is that a type of broccoli? Did you know some of the new genetically modified foods are being designed for remote brain manipulation?” He only had a small amount of spaghetti left, and he peered suspiciously at it, as though it might start giving him orders.

  I took a breath, forcing my muscles to relax and pushing my anger away. Kade was right. I couldn’t force Dad to do the right thing, it was up to him.

  Asher dished more spaghetti onto his plate, then turned to Kade. “When are you going back to LA?”

  “On Tuesday. It’s just a flying visit, unfortunately.”

  “I’ll probably be leaving around the same time,” I said.

  “That quickly?” Kade frowned. “I thought you were taking more time off.”

  “Got a call from the chief. He wants me back right away.”

  “How long will you be in Houston this time?”

  “Maybe a year or so.”

  Kade exchanged a glance with Asher, their dismay obvious. They knew my work was dangerous. But if they had any idea how bad my next assignment would be, they’d probably refuse to let me go.

  A year with Diamond. It would be an eternity.

  Could I ask Carlotta to wait for me? Or would that make the torture worse?

  “We’ll miss you,” said Dad, who didn’t seem to have realized I was going back into a dangerous situation. Though he claimed to have unraveled some of the world’s most intricate and sinister conspiracies, he had only the vaguest idea of what I’d been doing all these years in Houston.

  Arranging his knife and fork together on his empty plate, Dad leaned back with a sigh, one hand on his stomach. “Nice meatballs, Kade. I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite. Unless you made something sweet?”

  “Homemade chocolates.” Kade got up to grab a bowl out of the fridge and after the four of us devoured the delicious treats, Asher and I moved into the kitchen to do the dishes. We tried to ban Kade from helping, but keeping him out of the kitchen was all but impossible. Apparently there were specific ways pots should be cleaned, and Asher and I always did it wrong.

  There was really only room in the kitchen for one large male at a time, so the three of us jostled for space, elbowing each other and getting in each other’s way. If Kade hadn’t been clowning around, making Asher and I laugh, I would have thrown in the dishtowel and joined Dad who was reclining at the table with his hands folded over his stomach and his head starting to nod.

  Damn, I was going to miss this.

  I’d never enjoyed being back in San Dante anywhere near as much as I had this time. Mostly thanks to Carlotta, but there was nothing like spending time with my family. Listening to Kade’s antics and Asher’s dry humor, I wished I could freeze time. And that Carlotta could be here to join in. She’d love the way my brothers joked around. She’d fit right in, and no doubt have them in stitches.

  My phone rang. A call from the agent who’d replaced me in the surveillance operation.

  “We just intercepted a call from a possible courier,” the agent said. “There’s a good chance the shipment will arrive tomorrow morning. Thought I should warn you so you can stick close.”

  I swallowed a sudden hard lump of disappointment. Who’d have thought I’d ever take Frankie’s imminent arrest as bad news? But the sooner it happened, the sooner I’d have to leave. And there was nothing I wanted more in that moment but to stay in San Dante.

  “You okay?” asked Asher, his gaze as sharp as ever.

  I took a moment before I answered. “Looks like the arrest could happen tomorrow.”

  “Can I be there?” Kade sounded eager. “I’ve never watched drug dealers get arrested before.”

  “Nope.” I shoved my phone into my pocket.

  “It’s my house, so I get to watch it happen,” said Asher.

  “Neither of you will go anywhere near it,” I told them.

  Asher looked at Kade. “You want to hang out at my place tomorrow? We could remain legally inside our lawful place of residence, like the law-abiding citizens we are.”

  Kade made both hands into guns and thrust them into invisible holsters. “Hell yeah, I’m ready to be law-abiding.”

  I shook my head at them both, but I knew what they were really doing. After taking the call, I must have looked like my best friend had just died. Now I was too busy rolling my eyes at them to be depressed.

  But as much as I appreciated their efforts to cheer me up, I needed a more permanent solution. Taking my phone back out of my pocket, I studied it for a moment, hesitating over whether I was doing the right thing.

  Then I made up my mind.

  “I need to make a call,” I said, heading outside onto Dad’s back porch. The night air was crisp, and from the porch I could see the Watson’s house and imagine what Carlotta might be doing. She was probably in bed. Maybe she was reading, or watching a show. She could be sleeping.

  I wanted to be lying beside her, to know what she looked like when she was asleep. To kiss her awake, and see her smile. To tell her I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  I dialed Griffin’s number and he answered on the second ring.

  “It’s me,” I said. “I’m not coming back.”
r />   “Lennox? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not coming back to Houston. I need more time to think things through. You promised me a few weeks off, and I’m taking them.”

  He was silent for a moment. Then, “What do you want? More pay? A fat bonus? Name it, and I’ll make sure it’s done.”

  “It’s not about the money. I’m seeing someone and I’m not going to suddenly disappear. If I could really have something with her, I need to know.”

  “This is about a woman? Fuck that, Lennox. This is our chance to bring Diamond down, and it needs to start now. You of all people should get how goddamn important that is.”

  “Sorry, Griffin. I’m not going to change my mind. I’ve given you six years, now you can give me some time. I need six weeks. Maybe longer. I need to decide whether I’ll come back at all.”

  “You’ve got a week. That’s it, Lennox. That’s the most I can give you, and even that’s too much. Seven days, then you get your ass back here.”

  “Six weeks. Then we’ll see.”

  I hung up and smiled into the night. It really was a beautiful evening. Shame Dad’s house didn’t back onto the ocean like Asher’s, because the moonlight on the water would be stunning tonight. And I had at least six more weeks to enjoy it.

  When I went back inside, my brothers were sitting at the table with my father. I opened another beer, then took my seat. “Change of plan,” I said. “I’ve decided not to go back to Houston right away. I’m sticking around for a while.”

  Asher lifted his beer, tilting it toward me. “Good news.”

  Grinning, Kade leaned forward to clap me on the back. “That’s great, bro. What made you decide to stay?”

  “I decided someone else can save the world for few weeks. And I have a date with Carlotta on Monday night. Don’t want to miss it.” I took a sip of my beer, trying to hide my smile. But it felt like I’d opened the door on a whole new future.

  I hadn’t felt so good in a very long time. Suddenly, anything was possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Carlotta

  My twenty-four hours of doctor-prescribed rest was officially behind me, and I was driving a metallic-blue Porsche SUV up the Interstate at a little over the speed limit with the window down and the music blaring.

  Santino had been understanding about the delay in picking up his car, and I’d caught an early morning bus across the Mexican border. I dozed in my seat until I got to Tijuana, then followed Santino’s instructions to the auto paint shop where I found Santino’s newly-painted Porsche, just as he’d promised.

  Before getting in, I checked the trunk and back seat, doing a careful search to make sure the car was totally empty.

  Then I shook my head at myself. My brain had definitely been warped from being fed so many of Mom’s fantasies. I needed to get her out of my brain and plant myself in the real world where businessmen weren’t gangsters or smugglers, and there was no reason to be suspicious.

  Santino’s car had a delicious new car smell of leather, rubber, and money. The dashboard was silver, with cool, shiny dials and a speedo that went way beyond what my Toyota could only dream of. The black leather seats were trimmed with red, and the steering wheel had flaps for changing gears.

  When I’d started the car I couldn’t help the smile that crept over my face. When would I get another chance to drive a Porsche? May as well enjoy it.

  I hadn’t thought it would take long to get back to San Dante, but there were plenty of cars waiting to cross the border, so I played music and warbled along to sappy love songs for hours. I couldn’t even pass the time by sexting Mason. Even if sending messages while driving wasn’t illegal, my phone’s battery was dying.

  Besides, I was worried. My plan to keep Mason behind a wall of detachment had clearly failed. As much as I kept reminding myself that he was about to dump me to head back to Houston, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, or wanting to message him, or wishing I were with him.

  How come the man who was exactly wrong for me could feel exactly right?

  When I finally made it through the border, I opened the car up on the freeway, trying to leave my troubling thoughts behind.

  I couldn’t stand the thought that Mason would soon be leaving, and had said he wouldn’t see me again. Surely he hadn’t meant never. If I visited him in Houston, there was no way he wouldn’t be able to take a few hours off work, was there?

  Or maybe I could stop myself trailing after Mason like a love-sick fool by booking myself into some sort of detox. There might be an aversion therapy that could help. Like if I pricked myself with pins every time I thought about him.

  Only I’d be a walking pincushion.

  And with the amount of aversion therapy I’d need, there probably weren’t even that many pins in the world.

  At least the engine’s throaty roar was a distraction. If I wasn’t careful, Santino’s Porsche would ruin me for my Toyota, and I’d never be happy driving under the speed limit again.

  With San Diego behind me, it was an easy drive to San Dante. As I pulled into Santino’s driveway, his garage door rolled up. A moment later, Santino appeared at the door, directing me to park the car inside. My legs were stiff from sitting for so long, so I got out slowly.

  Santino was all smiles. “You made it.”

  “Lovely car.” I handed him the keys. “I may have driven it just a little over the speed limit, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “Car like this, it’d be a crime not to open it up.”

  “That’s what I told the cop who pulled me over.” I grinned to let him know I was joking, but he still gave me a weird sideways look, as though he didn’t find it funny.

  A big, blond man appeared through the door that connected the house with the garage. He was heavy set, and wearing a black polo with a thick gold necklace over it like a Russian mobster. Santino didn’t introduce me, and the mobster went straight past me and opened the car’s trunk. Which was weird, seeing as I’d made sure it was empty.

  “Come in. I’ll pour you a glass of champagne.” Santino walked me into the house and down the hallway. “We’re celebrating.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “A very lucrative business deal.”

  We reached the living room and my heart sank. Four men I didn’t recognize were sitting around drinking. And Frankie, the bumbaclot from the party, was with them, holding a full glass of something that looked like whisky.

  “Hi, baby. It’s nice to see you again.” Frankie’s smile looked like a creepy shark.

  “Oh no.” I tried to back away, but I stepped into Santino and he caught my arms.

  “It’s okay, Carlotta,” murmured Santino into my ear from behind me. “Frankie will be nice. He’ll even apologize for the rude way he treated you at my party.”

  “I just remembered something urgent I need to do somewhere else,” I twisted out of Santino’s grip. “Anywhere but here.”

  “But baby, I still want that dinner at Pierre’s.” Frankie got up from the couch. “Loosen up and we can have some fun.”

  “Kicking you in the nuts would be fun.”

  Santino stepped between us, holding up both hands to get Frankie to step back. “Carlotta’s good for business, Frankie. She delivered my car safely, and with Faith out of action I need her. So back off.”

  Frankie scowled. “Back off? You don’t get to tell me that. We’re partners, remember?”

  “Yeah, we’re partners. Which means you need Carlotta too.”

  I swallowed hard. They needed me? But all I’d done was pick up Santino’s car.

  Unless that wasn’t all I’d done.

  “We’re good,” interrupted a man’s voice. I turned to see the mobster coming back in from the garage. In spite of the way he looked, he didn’t have a sinister Russian accent.

  Santino smiled. “See?” he said to Frankie. “We’re good. That’s all that matters.” He turned to me and pulled an enormous wad of bills out of his pocket. “Than
k you for your work today, Carlotta. Here’s that bonus I promised you.” He peeled off a couple of Benjamins and offered them to me.

  I stared at the thick roll of notes still in his hand. Would a legitimate businessman carry that much cash? My heart was beating too fast and I was getting a terrible feeling. What if there was something illegal hidden in the car and I’d just transported it over the border?

  But no, that had to be Mom’s voice in my head. In real life, I didn’t work for criminals. The sick feeling in my stomach was thanks to my over-stimulated imagination.

  Still, I couldn’t force myself to reach for the money. If I didn’t take it, I definitely hadn’t done anything wrong. Right?

  “Keep the bonus,” I said. “I don’t think I want to work for you—”

  A loud crash made me jump. The front door flew open and men poured into the hallway. I froze, gaping at them. Then I saw their guns.

  “Police,” yelled one of the men. “Nobody move.”

  Too late. I was already launching myself at the floor.

  As I hit the ground, a loud crack rang out, like a gunshot. No, it wasn’t like a gunshot. That was a gunshot.

  I wriggled like a fish, pushing myself across the floor as I frantically searched for something to hide behind. But I was at the entrance to Santino’s minimalist living room and there wasn’t so much as a hat stand within scrambling distance.

  More gunshots cracked, impossibly loud.

  Raw, sharp fear flooded through me. I covered my head with my hands, flattening myself against the floor, willing my body to melt into the floorboards.

  Heavy boots thundered across the floor. Men were shouting, ordering Santino and his friends to put their hands up and their guns down.

  Someone was cursing loudly, stringing together rude words and spitting them with pure venom. It sounded like Frankie.

  A shout rang out over the top of the noise. “Clear at the front!”

  “Clear at the back,” shouted someone else, his voice muffled.

  “Hands above your head, lady,” growled a loud voice from just above me. “Take it slow.”

  I lifted my head and looked into the barrel of a gun. My limbs turned to water. I was weak and shaky. My hands trembled as I lifted them awkwardly into the air, staying put on my stomach.