Caught Between a Lie and True Love (Caught Between series Book 1) (7 page)

He didn’t. “Not till you tell me who this Lisa-Lee person is and why she upsets you so much.”

She sat up straight and glared at him, not caring in the least if she looked or sounded bitchy. Or maybe bitchy was the best way to keep him away from her heart. “You go first. Tell me something so private, it embarrasses the hell out of you.”

As he regarded her, a gust of wind swirled across the rooftop and swept strands of her hair into the space between them. He reached out and tucked the strands behind her ear, his touch a soft caress that sent a shiver down her spine.

“I have a teenage daughter too.”

She leaned away from him, breaking the physical contact, and reined in her lustful thoughts before she did something stupid. Like kiss him. Or maybe suggest they get naked. “You’re married?”

“No. Just the kid. One that currently hates my guts because I grounded her.” He raised one masculine eyebrow in a challenge. “Your turn. Who was that woman you’re avoiding?”

Paige hesitated.

Okay, so he had a daughter. She did too. And he wasn’t married. Neither was she.

They’d never had this type of relationship before. Equals in every way possible. The three year difference in their ages had ensured Brody had always treated her like a little sister.

Way back then, three years had seemed like a lifetime. But now their age difference was insignificant. They were adults, well beyond the age of consent. Both free to pursue anyone they wanted. And after watching him stare at her bedroom window last night, she couldn’t help but wonder…

She sighed and gave in to the desire to talk to
somebody
. “My mother. She left on my fourth birthday.”

Pity softened his dark eyes. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it did, but I’m over it, and now I’d really rather not discuss her.” She studied his solemn face. He was handsome in that drop-dead gorgeous movie star way, with the broad shoulders and hard body of an athlete. Too bad she was only here for a week. “So how did you get a teenage daughter?”

“Probably the same way you did.” Ear-shattering music screamed from the direction of his house and the edge of his mouth quirked up into a wry grin. “I didn’t know about her until four months ago when her mom died.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It was one night. A teenage mistake. We weren’t together.” He shrugged, his gaze intense and focused on hers as the music next door turned up a notch. “It’s her way of showing she’s pissed at me.”

She let out a big breath. “I suppose it’ll take time for both of you to adjust.”

“That’s not the worst of it.” His gaze shifted and he pointed to the house across the street. “Her grandma wants custody. She took me to court and although the judge ruled in my favor, one of the stipulations was that I live within ten miles of her.” He shrugged, and his broad shoulders tensed and relaxed. “I don’t think anyone, least of all Matilda, expected me to man up, take responsibility, and move to the island.”

He wouldn’t have had to, which spoke volumes about his character. Paige stilled the tiny shiver of pleasure that wound through the core of her body and grabbed her heart. She liked men who put family first. “So why didn’t you move to someplace on the other side of the island?”

He released a heavy sigh. “I thought if we lived close, we could get to know one another and become family. I realize now that it was a stupid idea.”

She snorted. “If it’s family you want, I’ll give you mine.”

A strangled laugh escaped him. “What’s wrong with your family?”

“Everything you can possibly imagine and more.” A movement next door caught her attention. “You have company.”

Brody angled his head toward the house next door, then slowly pushed to his feet, the tool pouch in his hand. “That’s her. Matilda Hannibal, Hope’s grandma.”

Paige followed him up, and as he towered above her, broad shouldered and sturdy, she had the sudden urge to step into him and discover if his body was as hard and soft and comfortable as it looked. Instead she stretched to look over his shoulder, surprised by what she saw. “She’s trying to break into your house.”

He bent and grabbed onto the nearest branch. “I better stop her before she commits a crime that puts her in jail.”

“That would only happen if you pressed charges.”

“Tempting.”

She watched him climb down the tree and wished she could burrow deeper into herself. Not be so vulnerable. Not want to press her face into the crook of his shoulder and never come out. “Please don’t tell Gram or Starr about this spot. Gram will board up the window and Starr…well, she’s a teen and she has enough ideas to get her into trouble.”

He stopped his descent and chuckled softly. “It’s our secret. Remember, I have a teen too. I know exactly where you’re coming from.” Halfway down the tree, he stopped and looked up at her again. “Olivia still has that old Chevy in her garage. I want to buy it from her, but she refuses to sell it because it won’t run. Maybe we could get together while you’re here and try to get that old baby fixed up. Like old times.”

She hugged her arms around her waist and smiled. “Yeah, that’d be fun.”

“Catch you later.” Without another word, Brody swung down the tree to the ground, then loped across Gram’s driveway to his own yard.

Paige watched him until a movement down the street caught her attention. She shaded her eyes against the morning sun and saw her dad going from house to house.

What was he up to?

And how long would it take before he pulled one of his old tricks?

CHAPTER NINE

Brody reached his yard, and resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder to see if Paige was still on the rooftop watching him.

The best thing he could do for his current situation was forget about her and the temptation to slide his hands into her hair and feel the softness of her mouth against his. Because, holy hell, she wasn’t the little kid from next door anymore. She’d grown into a beautiful, sexy woman, one that he wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

Except he already had his hands full with the women in his life. He didn’t need to add more trouble to the mix.

The music upstairs had gone silent, and he wondered where Hope was…or if she was even still in the house.

By the time he reached the veranda, Matilda had one foot on the porch and one foot firmly inside his house. Somehow he kept the anger out of his voice. “Is there something I can do for you? Or should I just call the Sheriff and have you arrested?”

The sixty-something-year-old woman froze, but if she felt any guilt for breaking into his house, she hid it well. Tucking a credit card into her purse, she stepped all the way inside and headed into the living room as though she owned the property. “I’m here to see my granddaughter.”

Brody followed her in. “Hope is grounded. She has to stay in her room until supper.”

“How dare you—”

Exasperation hit him square in the gut. He took a step toward her, effectively silencing her, hoping to intimidate her with his size, but she held her ground and looked at him stubbornly.

And hell.

He knew it. She knew it. Everyone on the island knew it.

She had him by the balls, squeezing so tight, he was surprised he wasn’t yet a soprano.

Frustration rose in Brody's chest. Despite the fact that she looked tighter than usual—tired, too, as though she hadn’t slept much the previous night, which made him want to ask
hey, are you okay
?—he had to fist his hands at his sides to maintain control of his anger. “I don’t want to keep her from you, Matilda. I’m more than willing to compromise and let her come and visit you whenever it’s convenient for the two of you. But she’s my daughter, and it was wrong of your daughter to keep her from me.”

The air hissed out from between her ruby lips. “Don’t you dare speak of my daughter.”

“She’s dead, Matilda. You have to accept it. She made a few bad choices, but we don’t have to fight like this. Hope is lucky to have the two of us.” He frowned. At this point, being a father was still brand new to him and he wasn’t so sure the girl was lucky to be in his care.

And on top of his new responsibility, the determined-to-find-something-wrong-with-him woman who stood stubbornly in front of him was driving Brody nuts when all he wanted was peace between them.

And maybe her help to figure out this parent gig.

He stuck out his hand, willing to make the first move for what had to be the hundredth time since he’d moved back to the island four months ago. “Truce?”

She looked at his hand as though he’d pulled it out of the muck. The seconds ticked off on the big grandfather clock in the corner of the front hallway until, with a resigned sigh, Brody dropped his hand and any pretense of good manners. “Get out of my house.”

“Make me.”

The Judge’s angry hiss came from the kitchen doorway. “What’s
she
doing here?”

Matilda bristled and lifted her nose higher in the air. “My duty. Which is more than I can say for you.”

Then she spun on her heels, stomped toward the front entrance, and exited the house.

The Judge’s footsteps thudded across the hardwood floor, and he slammed the front door after her.

Brody raised one brow. “Why are you mad at Matilda?”

The Judge headed across the living room and stopped in front of the liquor cabinet. “Now I understand why that weenie Herbert used to drink in the afternoon.”

Brody watched the older man reach into the cabinet and pull out a bottle of scotch. He took a step forward. “Harry, it’s not even lunch yet.”

The Judge grunted and stared at the bottle. “You don’t understand the way women think, son. You need to listen to me. If you want to be in control, you have to put down your foot. Otherwise, they’ll run all over your heart and stomp it into the ground.”

Brody felt his eyebrows raise.

The Judge set the bottle back in the cabinet and closed the door. “You’re right. This isn’t the answer.” With a heavy sigh, he let his shoulders slump and his chin drop to his chest. “Delores is in the kitchen. You better go check on her before she rearranges your cupboards. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

The Judge was still staring at the liquor cabinet, but whatever battle he’d been fighting, he seemed to have won. The older man looked out of sorts, tense and annoyed. Exactly how Brody felt every time he had a run in with Matilda.

At least Delores was someone he could deal with. Worried about the other man, Brody reluctantly left him alone and headed for the kitchen where he found Delores stepping out of the pantry, a half dozen cans balanced in the crook of one arm.

She pointed toward the noise upstairs. “Is Hope mad at you again?”

He raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the counter top. “I haven’t a clue what I should do about her. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Matilda informed me she’s taking me back to court.”

Delores smiled, and turned toward the stove and the pots on top of it. “The Judge and I have come up with a solution to all of your troubles.”

Harry walked into the kitchen, folded his arms over his massive chest, and leaned back against the cupboard. “I’m retiring, son.” Upstairs, the volume of the music cranked up. The Judge raised his voice to be heard over the din. “I bought myself a motorhome so I can travel across the Mainland.”

“Retiring?” The music upstairs went silent, but without the Judge in his court, it didn’t matter. He lowered his voice so it wouldn’t carry through the ceiling. “How’s that supposed to get me custody of Hope?”

“It’s not. But our Mayor had to step down and the councilors have decided to fill the position immediately.” The Judge glared toward the front door. “Matilda and I have an agreement. You become Mayor and she’ll back off.”

Brody straightened, surprised.

It was almost too good to be true and yet, he had no reason not to trust the Judge. But that would mean both Hope and him would be stuck on this island for the next four years, something that he was certain neither of them would enjoy.

Delores jumped into the conversation. “You’re a shoe in, Brody. Everyone on the island loves you. Everyone thinks you’re wonderful to have taken on the responsibility of raising Hope alone.”

“Everyone except for her grandmother,” he grumbled. He eyed the Judge, reluctant to take his words at face value because it just didn’t make any sense. “I don’t get it. Why would Matilda agree to back off?”

The Judge’s glower deepened as he grabbed a string bean from the counter. “You leave that woman up to me. Besides, it’s already a done deal. We nominated you for Mayor today. All you have to do is sign the papers.”

One of Delores’s perfectly penciled eyebrows rose. “Hey, I wanted to tell him the news.”

“Sorry,” the Judge mumbled around the bean, not appearing sorry at all.

She held a pot of peeled potatoes under the tap and turned on the water. “So you’ll run for Mayor, right?”

Resigned to doing whatever he needed to do, he nodded his head. “If it means getting Matilda off my back and gaining permanent custody of Hope, then I’ll do it.”

“You’ll need a campaign manager. I’ve already started on the signs.” She set the pot on the stove, opened the fridge door, pulled out a dish of butter, and added a scoop to the pot. “Having the Judge on our team is a stroke of good luck. He has so much influence over the people in town. But trust me. You
do not
want him running your campaign. Part way through, he’ll remember he’s retired and drive away in his motorhome, leaving you stranded.”

The Judge scowled. “I’m standing right here.”

Delores crossed her arms over her chest and faced him. “Well, what else should I think? You show up with that big monster of a travel-home—and don’t think people don’t notice these things—then make out like it’s not important.”

“It’s not,” he muttered as he focused on the signs on the kitchen table. “Fine. You can manage the campaign, Delores, but we run the show my way. Agreed?”

She opened her mouth. “But—”

He settled his glare on her which totally silenced her. “Agreed?”

A bit of a sulk appeared on her face. “Agreed.”

The Judge nodded, a smug smile on his face. “Let’s get after that signage, shall we?”