No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (8 page)

“You don’t like it?”

“We are not going clubbing!” He inhaled, but not enough air entered his burning lungs. He might have been having a mild heart attack. “You have handprints covering your
breasts.”

“Oh, these?” She covered her breasts with her hands to show him. “They’re my hands, see? Since I couldn’t wear a bra I thought—”

“Stop!” He raised a hand with the word, then shoved shaking fingers through his hair. “I . . . I can’t. . . .” He swallowed, then dropped his eyes to the ground.
“The grass is the safest place to look right now.”

She smiled and grabbed her breasts again, squeezing. “You think I look hot. Is that why you’re as red as these handprints?”

“Jesus.” He cursed under his breath and took a huge step back. “Please, if you have any shred of mercy, stop touching your breasts.”

“Good to know.” She laughed. “Let’s go. You wouldn’t want to be late for this garden party of yours. Daddy dearest might get mad.” She headed toward the
car.

Running on autopilot, Caleb turned on his heel and overtook her. As he opened the door, he made sure he kept his eyes firmly on the ground. She laughed some more.

“Not funny,” he muttered, throat dry. After shutting the door, he hurried to his side and slid into the driver’s seat. Then his gaze flicked to her lap. Another curse dropped
out of his lips. “Can you please pull your skirt down? I can’t be held responsible for crashing this car if you don’t.”

As if she had taken pity on his obvious discomfort, she tugged. But, of course, adjusting the hem meant the lowering of the scooped neckline. It exposed the upper curves of her breasts. Caleb
gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather made a crunching sound beneath his hands. He couldn’t tell if he was the luckiest guy in the world to have a girl like her sitting beside him or
if the universe was messing with him.

She hummed, enjoying herself way too much. “Is that your cell phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Her question jerked him awake. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone he was sure she hadn’t really meant to mention. He swiped his thumb over the screen, tapped several
times, then brought the receiver to his ear.

A couple of seconds later, the guy at the other end picked up, and Caleb spoke quickly. “I have her.” He slanted a glance her way before returning his gaze straight ahead. Yup,
looking anywhere else was safest. Not waiting for a reply, he said, “Stay there. I’m driving her over.”

In his periphery he noticed her raise an eyebrow.

He hung up and started the car. Over the rumble of the engine, he said to her, “Buckle up, I’m about to break a couple of traffic laws.”

Fifteen tense minutes later, during which Caleb didn’t speak, didn’t even glance her way, Didi leaned half her body out of his car window to get a better view of
the massive stone mansion with ivy-covered walls they were driving toward. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels as he skirted a huge fountain that served as a rotunda. She let out an excited
hoot.

“Will you get back in here, please?” he begged.

A tugging on the hem of her dress forced her back into her seat. “Is this your house?” she asked, a silly grin on her face. “It’s a castle.”

Sighing through his nostrils, he said, “This is my cousin’s house.”

Remembering the call from earlier, she asked, “What’s his name?”

“Nathan.” Caleb parked the car by the front steps and killed the engine. Even before she could unfasten her seat belt, he was already opening her door. He reached in and helped her
out. Heat climbed from where he touched her all the way up her arm, culminating as tingles in her belly.

Needing something to focus on besides how warm his hand was, she let go and yanked the stubborn dress down. The stretchy fabric had ridden up her thighs during the drive and subsequent leaning
out of the window. When she looked up she locked gazes with a guy who could have easily been Caleb’s twin, except with a slimmer build. He walked down the front steps to meet them in white
pants and shirt with a seersucker blazer on top.

“Jesus.” He let out a low whistle. “You were right, Caleb. Looking at her is certainly a religious experience.”

“Nate,” Caleb said with clear warning in his voice.

“Hey.” Nathan raised both hands in surrender, “I’m just repeating what you told me about her. Hello.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m Nathan
Parker.”

His smile was so open and gentle she couldn’t help but smile back. Unlike his expressive yet often guarded cousin, Nathan seemed like the type who kept his emotions on the surface. Very
much like she did.

“Diana Alexander.” She shook his hand. “But they call me Didi.”

Nathan and Caleb shared a look before Nathan said, “They?”

Caleb shook his head, then glanced at his watch. “I’m already running late. Can you help her?”

Nathan glared as if Caleb had just stabbed him. “You didn’t seriously just ask me that.”

“Nate.” He gestured toward Didi. “As you can see, I have my hands full with this one.”

“Should I be insulted?” she asked Nathan, who granted her another one of those brilliant, almost-all-knowing smiles.

“Don’t mind Caleb. He was raised by wolves.”

She caught the tail end of Caleb giving his cousin the finger when she glanced at him, and she laughed. She liked them together. The air Nathan carried around him seemed to relax Caleb. They
gave her the impression of being close. Being an only child and not knowing what it meant to have family other than her mother, loneliness pinched at her heart.

Must be nice to have a cousin to count on
, she thought.

“I have to go,” Caleb said, drawing her attention. He was already backing up toward his car.

“I called Preston,” Nathan told him. “He’s fielding for you with Michael. You’re lucky JJ’s in court today.”

“Just get her there as quick as you can.”

“Give me an hour.”

Caleb stopped at the driver’s side and scowled, sending new waves of shivers through her. For that look alone she didn’t mind that he was leaving her with a relative stranger.
Emphasis on the word
relative
.

“Thirty minutes,” he warned, then got into his car and drove away.

“What does he mean?” she asked the equally handsome boy she stood alone with in the driveway of the biggest house she had ever seen.

“How does a makeover sound?” He took her hand and led her up the steps.

“Is that your way of saying what I’m wearing isn’t right for the event?”

“Oh, honey”—he patted her hand—“remind me to sit down with you and give you the basics of thrift store shopping. Will save you a whole bunch of trouble in the
future.”

“Okay, now that’s insulting.”

“It’s meant to be. Cute clutch, though. We might be able to work with that.”

How could she hold on to her building annoyance with the way he smiled at her? Caleb had asked her to attend these events with him. She didn’t want to break his rules. If she did, it would
mean the end of her summer adventure and the chance of him posing for her. How many girls got the opportunity to enter his world? She had always been curious about how the other half lived, ever
since she started working at the club. If he thought what she was wearing didn’t suit the event and that Nathan could help, then she would give herself willingly to the experience.

Maybe
willingly
wasn’t the right word.

In a stylish bedroom bigger than her house, Nathan sat Didi in front of a vanity mirror bordered with lights. She wondered who the room’s occupant could be and wanted desperately to meet
her. It was such a beautiful space. One wall was cream with metal wall letters in teal that spelled out
LOVE
, framed pictures of fun memories and smiling faces hung on
another wall, and a third wall had these different-sized mirrors with funky metal frames. But her favorite part had to be the bed. She had never seen one so big, overflowing with throw pillows that
had funny quotes on them. She wanted to steal the one that said
I
’
M NOT A LADY BEFORE
10
AM
.

She let her gaze wander to the table of the vanity. It was filled with colorful bottles of perfumes, lotions, and makeup. Several different brushes sat in a crystal container at one corner. It
reminded her of when she used to watch her mother get dressed for a night out with her dad. Her mom would sit in front of a mirror like the one at which she did now, but with only one light at the
top, and begin “putting her face on,” as she had called it. A sense of warmth and comfort spread all over Didi at the memory from a time when everything in her life seemed perfect.

For the last five minutes Nathan had been staring at her reflection and running his fingers through her hair. Nerves bundled in her stomach. She was having reservations about the experience
already, and they hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Um . . . Nathan,” she said when the silence got too intense.

“I’m about to become very intimate with your hair. I think that’s earned you the right to call me Nate.” He took the ends of the limp strands and examined them with a
thoughtful frown. “What have you been using for shampoo? Detergent?”

“I just use whatever’s in the bathroom. Usually the latest no-name brand my mom brings home for five dollars a gallon.” She chuckled at Nate’s absolute horror.
“Poor-people problems.”

He clucked his tongue. “I cannot have you walking into that party with hair stiffer than a broom.” He picked up a pair of slim silver scissors and
snipped
,
snipped
at the air.

She flinched at the sound the blades rubbing together made. “I’m suddenly not so sure about this.”

Nathan leaned down until they were at face level in the mirror together. “You’re in good hands, I promise. If only we had time I would have brought you to my sister’s stylist.
Reynaldo is simply the best. But since we’re pressed for time, I’ll have to do.”

She swallowed and nodded before closing her eyes.

Five inches of hair later, she stared at her reflection as if she were looking at a different person. Nate had given her a messy bob that floated just above her shoulders. Her hair actually
framed her face instead of just hanging lifeless around her head. “Wow!”

“Oh, honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He handed her a wet wipe he had tugged out of a plastic container. “Clean off that ridiculous caked-on makeup. Your face is
not a wall that needs plastering. Then pay attention. What I will teach you will last you from day to night for the rest of the summer. Maybe even for the rest of your life.”

She nodded dumbly. No one had ever taken the time to teach her anything about primping. She learned by copying the girls at school. If Nathan could make her hair look awesome by chopping off the
length, then surely he could transform her face just the same.

In minutes, like watching a fast-forwarded video tutorial, he did indeed transform her face. He applied foundation with a deft touch. He curled her eyelashes and swiped on mascara like a
magician waving a wand. He used eye shadow and blush brushes the way she did paintbrushes. One after the other, Nathan applied makeup without any hesitation in his movements.

They had already passed the half-hour mark Caleb had set for her make over when Nate led her into a huge closet found at the far side of the bedroom. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull
when she took in the entire space.

“You have your own mall?” She stepped in without touching anything. All the racks were color-coordinated and organized. Skirts on one bar, dresses on another. Blouses on the upper
level while pants were directly below. There were even special places for sweaters, coats, and shoes. Oh, the shoes. The soft lighting made everything sparkle.

“No,” Nate said in response to her question. He moved toward the summer dresses and sifted through what looked like fifty of them. “But I think Natasha’s closet comes
close.”

She shrank into herself. “Won’t she mind me borrowing one of her dresses?”

Nate gave her a look over his shoulder. “Please. At the rate she’s going, she won’t even notice one missing. Plus, she’s currently on vacation, so she’s not here to
complain. Not that she ever would.”

“Is she younger or older?”

He sighed. “Older by two minutes and lording it over me ever since.”

“Twins?” She raised her gaze to meet his. Caleb’s were a shade darker, but from the way Nate looked at her so seriously in that moment, there was no doubt they were related.
“She must be so pretty.”

“The prettiest.” He turned back around to face the dresses and pulled out a lemon-yellow halter that flared below the waist.

For the longest minute all she could do was stare. It was straight out of the pages of the magazines her mother brought home. She always told Didi that, even if they couldn’t afford any of
the stuff featured, they could still dream. It was poring over pages and pages of fashion magazines that helped her understand just what kind of dress Nate was lending her. Then she stepped forward
and took the skirt of the garment in her hands. The fabric was soft; it had weight to it without sacrificing movement. With her height, the length would come just below the knee.

“So this is what fabric made of money looks like,” she said in awe.

Nathan laughed. It was a clear and honest sound. “Caleb was right. He has his hands full with you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” she asked.

With sincerity that mimicked hers—at least that was what she would have liked to believe—he shook his head. “I think he’ll enjoy the challenge. We may have just met, but
I’m on your side, honey.”

“I think I knew that the moment you chopped off my hair.”

His toothy grin returned. “If I didn’t enjoy pecs more than breasts, I honestly would give Caleb a run for his money.”

“You’re gay?” she teased, giving him a mock eyebrow lift that he mirrored.

“What gave it away?” He brought the dress to his chin and twirled around with it.

She laughed a full belly laugh. “Do you think that will fit me?”