No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (15 page)

She laughed again. He would never get tired of that sound, he found himself thinking. He opened his eyes just so he could see the playfulness brightening hers. The urge to pull her into his arms
again was so strong it was all he could do to stay still on the stool.

“Just sit there,” she said. “You don’t need to do anything else. You’re handsome enough.”

“I knew you were only after what was on the outside,” he teased with a self-deprecating smile.

“Just be grateful I’m not insisting on you being naked.”

“How benevolent of you.” He reached behind him for the collar of his shirt and in one tug it was off and on the floor.

Didi’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.

It was his turn to laugh.

“Good God.” She gasped, pinning him with a stare so direct he couldn’t help but stay still. The heat he felt only when he was around her crept up the column of his neck.
“I’ve never seen abs ripple before. Do it again. Laugh!”

Suddenly self-conscious, he said, “I’m not your trained monkey.”

“Would it help if I give you a banana?”

He shook his head in dismay. “I’m not going to win against you, am I?”

She winked and gave him the finger pistol. “You’re learning. Now sit still and hush before I forget all your rules and jump you.”

Instead of complying he struck a pose, making sure to flex so he had definition in his arms, chest, and the abs she seemed to like. Then he said, “Draw me like one of your French girls,
Jack.”

“What?” She stared at him, mystified.

His eyebrows shot up. “Jack and Rose? From a little movie called
Titanic
?”

“I haven’t been to the movies in a while.”

“We were still kids when it came out. It’s more than a decade old.”

“Then why mention it?”

“It was my mother’s favorite. . . .” He paused, catching himself at the admission. He hadn’t thought about his mother in a while. “Every movie night at our house,
when it was her turn to pick, she’d always choose—”

“
Titanic
.”

The word struck him directly in the chest. The atmosphere in the room shifted. He could actually feel the air molecules tighten from the tension. As he studied her through hooded eyes, Didi
picked up her palette, squeezed a dollop of a flesh tone from a tube onto it, and dipped the business end of the brush into the paint. She considered the blank canvas for a second before the brush
landed. Her hand moved with precision and confidence, not a moment’s hesitation. He found himself transfixed. Reluctantly he caught himself admitting Didi affected him more than he’d
ever thought possible. It scared him. Yet in the pit of his stomach, a thrill mixed with his fear. What was happening to him?

Watching her work was fascinating. One second she would be smiling at something she had done. Then she would frown, pick out a new tube of color or switch out her brush, and continue. Once in a
while she would swipe her thumb against her cheek or chin and leave a streak of paint there.

Every time she flicked her gaze at him, his stomach muscles clenched. It was similar to that moment of suspension before the roller coaster plunged down the first hill. He anticipated her looks,
but when they came they still sent a thrill through him.

About fifteen minutes later, Didi’s frown hadn’t stopped. She looked from the canvas to him, then back again. Something must have dissatisfied her, because she removed it from the
easel, making sure he hadn’t seen the painting by turning it away, and picked up a fresh one.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

She studied him again. “You’re distracting me.”

He smiled, stretching. “Want me to put my shirt back on?”

Tearing her eyes away from the motion, Didi suggested, “Maybe we just need to talk.” She picked up a thicker brush from the set she had bristles down in a jar. “Tell me
something about yourself.”

“I work out at least four times a week. Anything else you want to know?”

“What’s your deal with love?”

His mouth dried up and his throat closed. “You’re not pulling any punches, huh?”

“Well . . .” She squeezed a new dollop of paint onto the collection she already had. “You’re the one who gave me free rein. Next time set parameters.” She pursed
her lips at the canvas, then flicked the brush over the center. “So, what’s your hang-up with love? I figure something must have happened for you to make not falling in love your number
one rule. What, someone break your heart or something?”

Squeezing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. “Something like that.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?”

“My mother.”

The brush paused midair. She looked at him for a brief instant, then continued painting. “Oh?” was all she said, and yet that one word seemed to have flicked some sort of switch in
him, because he started talking.

“I witnessed firsthand what love can do to a person.” Grabbing the lip of the stool between his legs, he allowed his shoulders to slump forward. He picked a spot on the floor and
kept his gaze there, letting himself remember. “My mother killed herself when I was twelve. It was a shock to everyone because she was the happiest person in the world. Never a smile out of
place. I think it was most shocking for my father. JJ loved her. It was in the way he looked at her, like she was his entire world.” He swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat.
“Once, I caught them kissing in the kitchen. My mom had been in the middle of flipping pancakes. The house smelled of cinnamon. I remember waking up to their laughter, and when I got to the
kitchen there they were in each other’s arms. Even when they knew I was there sticking my tongue out, because yuck—kissing.” Distantly he thought he heard Didi giggle. “Even
after they’d stepped out of each other’s arms, my father kept looking into my mother’s eyes like he was seeing her for the first time.”

“What happened?” came Didi’s whispered question.

“I honestly don’t know. One day she was there, and the next she wasn’t. I tried asking my father about what had really happened, but he refused to talk about it. He still does,
actually. He’d rather drown himself in work than face the loss of my mother. And he grew . . . cold. Distant. Not even his brother could get through to him. Trust me, my uncle tried. If it
didn’t have to do with work, he didn’t care about it. There were days when we didn’t have anything to eat because he’d fired all the staff, and there was no one to go
grocery shopping. That was when I started spending more time at Nathan’s house.”

“Caleb . . .”

He breathed, even though it didn’t seem like any air entered his lungs. “That was when I realized all love does is hurt people. It lulls you into a false sense of security, and then
bam
! You slam into a brick wall of pain. A shit ton of pain. Love destroys people to the point where they don’t even care who else they hurt in the process.” His knuckles
turned white, he was gripping the stool so hard. “I promised I would never allow myself to suffer the consequences of falling in love. Never turn into someone like my father because of the
pain of losing someone.”

Soon after he stopped speaking, fingers pushed into his hair, bringing his head to lean against her. He released his grip on the stool and wrapped his arms around Didi’s waist. He buried
his face against her belly. If the front of her overalls happened to get wet, she didn’t complain.

They held each other like that for what seemed like the longest time. Yet he didn’t care. He wanted the moment to last forever. If only to live within the relief she provided. Her touch
was a balm to his pain.

With the resurgence of his grief for his mother and the unconditional comfort Didi gave, one thing became clear. . . .

“My birthday,” he murmured after an eternity of silence.

“Your birthday?” she asked back, as if making sure she had heard him right.

He looked up at her. In that instant she seemed unreal. Like an angel sent from heaven to save him. “It’s not part of our agreement, but . . .” The words caught in his
throat

“But?” she whispered, taking his face in both hands and drying his tears with the pads of her thumbs.

He swallowed. “I would very much like it if you came.”

In response, a soft smile graced her lips before she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Then she whispered the three little words he had been waiting for: “Count me in.”

THE EVENT FOR
the Fourth of July involved games. Couple-centric games. Set against the pretty backdrop of Dodge Cove’s
man-made lake, with its tall pines and luxury homes surrounding the perimeter. The day couldn’t have been more geared toward romance if it were Valentine’s Day and not the middle of the
year. Standing side by side with Caleb, Didi looked up at the perfect concentration on his face—brows drawn tight and all.

“You sure about this?” she asked with equal seriousness.

He nodded once, then hooked his arm around her waist to grip her hip. The strength of his hold gave her the confidence she needed to grab the back of his shirt. Someone yelled “Go!”
In one heave, Caleb lifted her against his side and they took off at a gallop in the three-legged race he had convinced her to join.

Squealing in delight, she let him do most of the work, content to hang on for dear life. The spectators cheered, including Preston, who was jumping in place. He cheered for Nathan and Natasha,
their only real competition—according to Caleb. The excitement in the air spurred him to kick faster with the leg currently tied against hers.

Laughter boomed out of her when they reached the finish line at the same time as the twins. They all tripped over one another, but before she could fall, Caleb wrapped her in his arms and
twisted so she landed on top of him. Curses and giggles abounded.

She pushed up against his chest, her eyes immediately locking with his. Like standing beneath the eye of a storm, a pause happened between them amid all the excitement and congratulatory shouts.
Beneath her hand she could feel the rapid beats of his heart. He sucked in a breath, and in a quick move heaved them both to their feet and began untying their legs.

“Do you think we won?” she asked.

“Yes, we did,” he announced.

“I object!” the twins said in unison, already untied.

She still got a kick out of seeing the female version of Nathan. Her femininity put their family’s signature dark hair and blue eyes to devastating effect. The female Parker argued with
Caleb for the win animatedly, a gleam in her eyes, hands in the air.

“We clearly won by a toe!” Natasha pointed out.

“I have longer legs than you,” Caleb rebutted. “So if anyone’s winning by a toe, it would be me.”

“Yeah,
you
.” Nathan poked his shoulder. “Don’t think I didn’t see you doing all the work, hauling Didi like a sack of potatoes.”

“Hey!” she joined in, unable to help herself. Everyone was having so much fun.

Nathan grinned at her. “A pretty sack of potatoes.”

She executed an exaggerated curtsy. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

“That’s still cheating,” Natasha challenged, loud enough for everyone gathered to hear.

According to the mix of jubilation and objection, the crowd was clearly divided. The energy in the air sent tingles of excitement over Didi’s skin. She had never enjoyed herself this much.
Maybe she had been wrong about these DoCo elites.

“Preston!” Nathan called. “You be the tiebreaker here.”

“Boo!” Caleb said through cupped hands. “You know Preston is biased.”

“Let’s call it even,” Natasha suggested, having been reduced to giggles.

“Never!” both Caleb and Nathan shouted at the same time.

Preston suggested a pie-eating contest. This went over well with the mob. In under a minute, Caleb and Nathan sat beside each other on a picnic bench with a pie tin on the table in front of each
of them. Natasha walked among those gathered to watch, taking bets, of all things. Didi put herself down for ten on Caleb.

“All right,” Preston said. He stood at the other side of the table in front of the competitors, who bumped shoulders with each other. “The rules are simple. No use of hands.
The first one to finish eating the pie wins.” Then he gave the floor to Didi.

Biting her lip, she glanced at Caleb, who gave her a wink and grin. The combination evoked flutters in her belly. “Ready,” she said. Caleb and Nathan shared a look.
“Set.” She raised her hand and dropped it at “Go!”

The Parker cousins plunged their faces into the pies. Cherry for Caleb and blueberry for Nathan, going with the red, white, and blue color scheme of the party. The crowd cheered for their
respective bets.

She danced on her toes, egging Caleb to chew faster. She clapped when half his pie was gone in what seemed like seconds. He moved his face around the tin until nothing was left, then pushed off
the table and raised both arms above his head and roared. Half his face was red.

Everyone screamed with him, including Didi. She caught the naughty spark in his blue eyes too late because he was already on her, smearing cherry sauce all over her face. She shrieked and
laughed at the same time. His arms around her waist kept her from getting away. In her struggle, Caleb tripped, sending them both to the grass. The breath in her lungs came out in an
oof
and giggles.

Thirty minutes later, with faces washed, she and Caleb entered another game. They came away from the egg toss with second place. Nathan and Preston had joined that one and won uncontested. By
the third game, which involved a version of blind man’s bluff, where a guy was blindfolded and had to find his girlfriend in a group of girls by listening for her calling his name, Didi had
gotten a sense of just how competitive the Parker cousins were.

Caleb had bet Nathan a thousand dollars he could find her in less than five minutes. Nathan took the bet and doubled it. Her head spun from how careless they were being with money. At first she
had wanted no part in the silly competition of theirs, but when Caleb had said he would use the money to buy her art supplies, she quickly agreed. If she wanted to give him a painting for his
birthday, she needed the supplies. She was running low on canvases. Two grand’s worth could keep her painting for the rest of the year. Hell if she wasn’t going to take that.