No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (3 page)

“I can’t say it was nice meeting you, Caleb, considering the silly chain of events that led to this stellar first impression I just made.” She threw a thumb over her shoulder.
“But thanks for the assist back there. I appreciate it.”

“So you’re admitting I did save you.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a creepy, suggestive way that caused her to snort-laugh.

“Rich boys and their hero complexes,” she said as she stalked off, not willing to destroy what she considered an already perfect moment.

“Are you seriously going to leave without giving me your number?” he asked. “I say you owe me dinner for saving your life.”

When she looked over her shoulder he was still leaning on his elbows, a cocky grin on his face. She blinked, committing the magazine-worthy sight to memory so she could paint it later.
“Good-bye, Caleb.”

RIDING SHOTGUN IN
Nathan’s cherry-red roadster, Caleb leaned heavily against the door. With the top down, the afternoon
breeze helped ease some of the pounding that had begun between his temples after he’d made the trek back to his car. The pumping beats of “Moves Like Jagger” played in the
background. Maroon 5 made his ears bleed, but Nathan was obsessed with Adam Levine, so he tolerated his cousin’s abhorrent taste in music as they sped up the winding road that led to the
Parker Family Estate.

Breathing in, he said on a sigh, “Thanks for picking me up. I’m too high to drive.”

A snort was Nathan’s response, in addition to, “And apparently you decided taking a swim fully clothed was a good idea. No more weed for you, buddy.”

Caleb slanted a wry glance at his cousin in his green sweater-vest and khakis. Nathan possessed the dark hair and baby blues that came with being a Parker. A devastating combination wasted on
the ladies since he had been batting for the other team since grade school. Nathan never hid his sexuality, but Dodge Cove being what it was, most of its residents chose to ignore it, or maybe they
were just downright dense. Cases in point: their fathers. Both men kept setting Nathan up with anything in a skirt. Good thing his mother was all for his choices.

“You know I’m pretty much dry, right?” A grin tugged at his lips. “But if this is your way of trying to get me to pay for your car’s cleaning, then you don’t
have to worry. As soon as I get home, I’ll make the call.”

Instead of taking the bait, Nathan said, “What happened at the country club that inspired your afternoon dip? Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Amber today?”

The beginnings of his humor disappeared. So much for some light banter. He had completely forgotten that he’d told Nathan about his lunch plans.

“Amber fell in love with me,” he said simply.

“Considering the meat market we live in, you, my dear, are a porter house steak. How could she not want a taste?”

“And you’re prime rib.”

“I see myself more like filet mignon,” he replied with a laugh. “And I’m fabulous.”

“That you are.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

But when Nathan sighed, Caleb knew he was in for some lecturing. He braced himself by sitting up and resting his elbow on the door frame so he could lean his thrumming temple against his
fingertips. Closing his eyes and sending a silent prayer that his buzz would last, he gestured for his cousin to proceed with the flogging.

Instead Nathan said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His eyebrows rose. “What? Nothing on how I should stop dicking around and find a girl to settle down with?”

“Hell no. We’re way too young for that. I say Amber had it coming. You know I never liked her.”

Relief came on swift wings. Caleb would have taken a bullet for Nathan. Having him in his corner had saved him from the deep pit of misery the death of his mother had plunged him into that first
year. Being an only child, Caleb hadn’t had anyone else to count on. At least Nathan had his sister Natasha and their parents. When Caleb’s father had traded common sense for defensive
walls so impregnable he had no time for his kid, there had been days their fridge had nothing in it but cheese and ketchup. His uncle hadn’t hesitated to bring Caleb home like a stray pet
after discovering what he was living on.

The twins and their friends had been responsible for keeping him sane. Saying he owed them was an understatement. Nathan and company had come to his rescue so many times he had stopped
counting.

“I say good riddance,” Nathan added.

“Good to know,” Caleb mumbled as his eyes drifted to the rearview mirror, where he could see his Mustang, driven by their friend Preston, following closely.

“Speaking of filet mignon, let’s move on to better, more productive topics of conversation.”

At this, Caleb sat up, because he knew what that grin on his cousin’s face meant. His freedom. If he reached out, he could almost touch it. “I read your e-mail last night. The list
of places is growing.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Nathan’s brow furrowed as he sent a scrutinizing glare Caleb’s way. “You asked for a European adventure, and I will give you the
best damn European adventure any guy can have. I don’t do things half-assed.”

“Balls to the wall, and no looking back.”

“The continent won’t know what hit it. The Parker cousins are on their way.”

“I say a week per country and no less.”

Nathan tilted his head as if considering it, but Caleb knew better. “I say leave the option of extending to two in case we enjoy ourselves too much. The legal drinking age is eighteen,
after all.”

Caleb threw his head back and howled. “I like the way you think.”

“Shame if you didn’t. We start in the UK, landing in London—”

“To say hello to the queen,” Caleb interrupted, feeling his excitement from the gut.

Nathan laughed. “That we will. Then we make our way up to Ireland and Scotland and make a U-turn back to London before France. . . .”

Twenty minutes into the trip planning, Nathan drove down the tree-lined driveway of their family estate. The stone monstrosity had been one of the original structures built
during Dodge Cove’s infancy. The place had history, passed down to the eldest Parker child of every generation. This meant Caleb’s father took ownership of the sprawling property with
its twenty bedrooms, multiple-function rooms, balconies, terraces, an expansive garden . . . Simply put, if the States had a Palace of Versailles, it would be the Parker Estate. To Caleb, the house
was nothing more than a tomb.

Exhausted from all of Nathan’s big ideas, Caleb got out of the car and headed straight for the front door. He promised to give his cousin a call in the morning without looking back, while
Preston eased the Mustang into the detached garage off to the side of the main building. Caleb needed a nap. Too much had already happened in the span of a handful of hours. He just wanted to sleep
everything away and start fresh.

The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house. He didn’t move from the black-and-white-tiled foyer with its massive crystal chandelier. It took the staff a week to clean the
thing—that was after his father rehired everyone he had fired the first few months after the funeral. Caleb closed his eyes and waited. He ignored the usual sounds of activity the staff
made—maids cleaning, the butler puttering about, the gardeners cutting grass—and focused on the sounds his father would make. A barked command or the shuffling of papers or the clomping
of expensive shoes on marble. When a minute passed with nothing, hope that his father was spending another late night at the firm blossomed in his chest. He let another minute pass before actually
making a run for the curved staircase to the second floor.

He was halfway up when the words “Caleb, get in here!” stopped him.

Tight fists at his sides and shoulders heavy, he cursed under his breath every step of the way to his father’s study. Of course the bastard wouldn’t have been anywhere else. From the
iciness of his tone, it seemed his father wasn’t having the best day either. Great. What could the man want?

The door to the home office was ajar. Beyond it he imagined where Jordan Joseph “JJ” Parker, Esq. would be. Probably behind his desk. It was the barrier that had defined their
relationship over the years. The hunk of wood had been passed down too, from his father’s father all the way back to the first Parker. Caleb had played underneath it while JJ worked,
sometimes even falling asleep at the man’s feet. Now he hated it with a passion.

“What are you waiting for?” came the stern question from inside.

Squaring his shoulders, Caleb pushed the door open. He only went as far as beyond the threshold. No need to get any closer than he had to. The air crackled with mounting anger. He felt it like
static on his skin as he inventoried what could possibly have caused his father’s ire.

Despite the windows, the wood paneling lent gloom to the space. The chairs and sofa were all dark masculine leather. Law books covered every shelf. And a twelve-point buck head was mounted above
the empty fireplace. The thing never failed to give him the creeps.

“What took you so long?” JJ asked from behind his imposing mahogany desk in a gray three-piece Brioni suit and silver tie, his hair slicked back. Was it too much to ask that he defy
Caleb’s expectations by standing beside the minibar? Would it be wrong for the man to relax with a glass of the best scotch money could buy once in a while instead of reserving it for his
clients?

His gaze drifted to his mother’s portrait, which hung on the far wall. Her dark curls fell over one shoulder. The light blue of her gown emphasized the paleness of her skin. An ache
settled in his chest. His father had commissioned the painting right after they had gotten married. His mother had been three months pregnant with him at the time. The smile on her face killed
Caleb.

But for the painting, the house didn’t have any other pictures of her. It was the only clear image in Caleb’s mind. With every year that passed, his memories grew fainter, like the
eventual fading of a photograph exposed to sunlight. It shamed him that he couldn’t even remember the sound of her laugh anymore.

As if reading his mind, his father said, “Margaret was always such a vibrant woman. She had a smile that could light up a room. Every time she entered a space the air grew
lighter.”

Caleb finally let his gaze take in the man who looked like an older version of himself. He prayed day and night that he wouldn’t turn out like the soulless bastard his father was. All he
did was work, leaving room for nothing else. If losing someone he loved meant Caleb would have to endure this kind of pain, then he would rather not love at all.

“Father,” he said like a curse instead of an acknowledgment.

“I got a call from Richard not an hour ago,” JJ said, gaze narrowed.

Amber’s father. Shit. Of course daddy’s little girl would run straight to him.

“He said you broke his little girl’s heart.”

“She crossed a line,” Caleb said in a clipped tone. “We were just having fun. It was time to move on.”

“Margaret would be very disappointed to hear that, were she alive today,” came his father’s equally clipped reply.

Mention of his mother snapped Caleb’s tentative hold on his control. “Like she would be proud of you? That’s precious. What would she think if she saw you now?” The
instant rage in his father’s gaze should have warned him off, but he kept on talking. “Don’t you remember what having fun is like?”

“It’s time you take responsibility for this ‘fun’ you’re talking about and clean up your act.”

Taken aback, Caleb blurted out, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve allowed you to run wild long enough. Your callous disregard for the feelings of others almost cost me an important client.” JJ leaned forward, placing both hands on the
damn desk. “You can kiss your gap year good-bye. At the end of summer, you’re heading straight to Yale. No more fun and games.”

Of all the days for his parental instincts to kick in—when for years his father had been content to neglect him—why now? Dread washed away all of his anger like a cold shower. The
tips of his fingers grew damp. “You agreed. You said if I got into Yale and two other universities I could defer admission. Nathan and I already have plans for Europe at the end of the
summer.”

“Consider all your plans canceled.”

“All because I broke up with Amber?” He ran his fingers through his windswept hair, not completely understanding what was going on. Stifling the urge to pace, he locked his knees and
stood his ground. “I’m not going to Yale.”

“You’re going to Yale. Or I’m cutting you off.”

Caleb sucked in a breath. Without his father’s money he had nothing. He thought fast. There had to be some way of salvaging the situation. Then he realized who he was talking to.
High-powered lawyers were always up for a negotiation. So he said, “There’s nothing I can do about Amber, but you have to at least let me make it up to you. Let me earn the gap year
back.”

JJ pushed away from his desk and moved to stand by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, a pensive expression on his face.
“You’re willing to do anything?”

“Yes,” he said without thinking of the possible consequences of his immediate agreement.
Always read the contract before signing
, was what his father used to say. At the
moment, Caleb was ready to make a deal with the Devil himself for the return of his precious gap year.

Turning away from the window cast his father in shadow, giving the man a sinister appearance. “All right.”

“All right, what?” Caleb asked hesitantly. What exactly had he gotten into?

“For the return of your gap year . . .” JJ lifted a finger for his first condition. “You’re taking a summer internship at the firm—”

“But—”

“Do you want this gap year or not?” He interrupted Caleb’s interruption.

Backed into a corner, all Caleb could do was nod.

“Good.” A predatory glimmer crossed his father’s icy gaze. “Along with the internship, I want you to attend all the firm’s summer events and be on your best
behavior.”