Caught Between a Lie and True Love (Caught Between series Book 1) (2 page)

Behind them, footsteps clomped up the driveway, and a deep familiar voice carried over the distance. “Step back from the door.”

Brody Jackson
.

For a heartbeat, she couldn’t breath, overwhelmed by the memory of teenage angst and first love. But it hadn’t been love, not back then, hadn’t been anything more than a girlhood crush for the older boy next door.

Paige glanced over her shoulder. Any further back and she’d topple over the porch rail. She squared her shoulders and came faced to face with the man scaling the porch steps.

“Olivia, is everything all right? Are you okay?”

As the deep tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, she forced her tense muscles to relax. “Hello, Brody.”

He froze, one foot on the top step, the other on the porch. A frown pinched his brows, and the intensity of his dark gaze swept over her face, down her body, unintentionally and far too easily warming spots that hadn’t been warm in far too long. “Little Paige Calhoun? Is that really you?”

She wrinkled her nose at the surprise in his voice. “Yep. Every inch.”

His dark eyes returned to her face, warmer now. “You grew up.”

She couldn’t help herself as she took in the breadth of his wide shoulders, the six-pack abs visible beneath his t-shirt, the biceps that looked…huggable. And the sensual, sexy curve of his mouth. In her youth, she’d spent hours upon hours dreaming about the day he’d sweep her into his strong arms and kiss her. “So did you.”

Beside her, Starr nudged her in the ribs and muttered, “Get a room.”

Heat flooded Paige’s cheeks, and as the screen door squeaked open, she forced herself to turn away from the man who had once consumed her every girlish daydream, and turned back to her grandma.

Because really, she was only here to rid the island of one Jeb Calhoun, and then she’d return to the hustle bustle of the city and once again get lost in the sea of faces. Just Starr and her against the world.

The old lady’s faded blue eyes were fixed on Starr. “Who’s this? Your pigeon?”

One of Brody's masculine eyebrows tilted up. “Pigeon?”

She ignored him, laid one hand on Starr’s shoulder, and upped the wattage in her smile. “This is my daughter, Starr. Starr, this is your great-grandmother, Olivia Calhoun, and her neighbor, Brody Jackson.”

The old lady peered around them. “Well, well, well. You have a daughter. Where’s her daddy hiding?”

“I don’t have a dad,” Starr replied in the surliest tone Paige had ever heard her use.

Gram’s thin eyebrows rose, crinkling her forehead into a multitude of lines and deep grooves. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Ain’t proper for an unmarried woman to have a child.”

In the distance, the ferry horn blasted, announcing its departure, and she considered grabbing Starr by the hand so they could make their escape before it was too late. If they were fast—and the Mini was very, very fast—they might be able to catch the boat before it departed.

The ferry wouldn’t be back for a week. Seven long days of being judged and found guilty, whether or not she really was. The guilt that normally consumed her whenever she thought of her grandma vanished.

What was she doing here? Gram didn’t need her protection. It was clear the old lady was as feisty and unmovable as she’d been thirteen years ago.

Brody's phone chirped, drawing her attention from thoughts of escape. With a glance at the screen, a frown settled across his brow. His deep voice rumbled from his chest. “I need to go.” His gaze turned back to Gram. “If you need me to stay—”

His gaze slashed to Paige.

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Despite the earlier warmth in his dark chocolate eyes, his meaning was loud and clear. And it pissed her off.

The man didn’t trust her any more than her grandma did.

“I’ll be fine,” Gram said. “You go take care of whatever you need to do.”

He took a step back and his gaze connected with Paige’s. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

Paige ground her molars together. “We’re not axe-murderers. We’re family.”

A grimness firmed the sensual curve of his lips. Had she really been daydreaming about kissing him? “In some families, those are one and the same.”

“Ha ha.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and his gaze dipped briefly. And when he looked back, and met her gaze, there was interest there, which caught her off guard. Because Brody had always regarded her as the annoyance next door, too young for his attention, too irritating to be allowed in his presence.

Except when he’d take time to help her fix the old truck in Gram’s garage.

Heat spiraled low in her belly. Ignoring it, ignoring him, she turned to her grandma. “May we come in?”

As Gram pushed the screen door open wider, Brody's departure redrew her attention. He loped down the steps and retraced his path across the driveway to the house next door, pausing once to turn back and call out, “I’ll be back tomorrow to fix the kitchen faucet, Olivia.”

Paige followed him with her gaze, taking in his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long sure strides. It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to get physical with a man. A long time since she’d wanted to. But Brody Jackson was definitely off limits. He had heartbreak written all over him.

Gram’s voice interrupted her lustful thoughts. “Too much like your mother, you are, liking men too much.”

Paige tore her gaze from Brody's backside to the judgement on her grandma’s face, and felt her cheeks heat. “That’s not true.”

Beside her, Starr muttered, “Seriously not true. A boyfriend might get her off my back.”

Gram shook her finger. “I saw the way you ogled Brody and the way he ogled you back. You stay away from that boy. He has enough trouble on his plate without adding you to the mix.”

“Gram, believe me, I’m not here to get involved—”

“Darn tootin’ rights you’re not.” Gram pushed open the screen door wider and waved them inside. “Hurry up now, before people see you. You look like a couple of starving hobos looking for a handout.”

Relief swept through Paige. As she passed the older woman, she bent to give her granny a hug. “I missed you, Gram.”

The older woman’s back stiffened. She didn’t hug Paige back. “Sure couldn’t tell so by the amount of visits you made to me over the years.”

Paige released her and stepped back. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

“The jury’s still out on that.” Gram eyeballed Starr as the teen schlepped past her into the house. “You don’t have any diseases, do you, girl?”

Starr smirked and reached out, wiggling her fingers at the grouchy old lady. “Touch me and find out for yourself.”

Paige pushed Starr the rest of the way into the house. While Gram closed the front door behind them, Paige took off her shoes, saw Starr do the same, then followed Gram through the narrow hallway to the back of the house and into the kitchen.

The familiar scent of homemade bread made her mouth water. Gram grabbed oven mitts off the countertop, pulled open the oven door, and waved as a blast of heat hit her face. As she bent to pull the loaf out of the oven, Starr’s stomach rumbled noisily.

Gram straightened and fixed Starr with a beady look. “You hungry, girl?”

Starr nodded once, the practiced teenage cool gone for a few blissful moments while her attention fixed on the food.

And any food would do. It seemed her daughter was a bottomless pit these days.

“Bathroom’s up the stairs, at the end of the hall.” Gram turned her back on them, pulled three glasses and three small saucers out of the cupboard, and shuffled across the room to set them on the table. When she turned back, her gaze landed on Starr and her voice turned sharp. “Get going, girl. You’re not sitting at my table till you’ve washed those filthy hands.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Starr dropped her backpack on one of the kitchen chairs and took off like a shot. The moment she was out of earshot, Gram’s mouth turned pinched and hard.

“How much money do you want?”

Straightforward and blunt, reminding Paige of why they’d disagreed all those years before. She crossed the room to wash her hands in the sink. “I’m not here for your money.”

Gram reached into the cupboard, grabbed a jar, and holding it against her bosom, unscrewed the lid. “You’re too much like your daddy, always looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

Paige turned on the tap to rinse the soap off her hands, and swallowed her annoyance, but a bit got loose. “That’s not true, Gram.”

“Too much like your mama, too. Liking men too much, you always did.”

“I believe you already pointed that out,” Paige said dryly.

Gram snapped the towel off the oven handle and handed it to Paige, then pulled out a fistful of bills from the jar and shoved it toward her. “Here, take it. Then be gone.”

Paige stared at the bills stuffed into the jar. “Gram, why isn’t this money in the bank?”

“Don’t trust no thieving banks. Robbers, all of them. Take my money. Do what you want with it. But never come back here again.”

Behind her, the kitchen door squeaked open. Paige turned and met Starr’s curious gaze.

The teen crossed the room to her side. “What’s going on?”

Gram grabbed one of Starr’s wrists and tucked the bills into the palm of her hand. “Take this money and be on your way. I washed my hands of your mother years ago. I don’t need more trouble in my life now.”

Paige gave a half-hearted attempt to defend herself. “Gram—”

“You don’t write. You don’t call. Suddenly, you have the urge to see your old granny?” With an angry mutter, Gram dumped everything in the jar onto the countertop and a few coins tinkled against the hard surface. “Do you need more? In a day or two, my social security check will be here. You can have that, too. Take it all and then be gone. I don’t need your kind of trouble in my life.”

Paige looked down into Starr’s upturned face. The teen’s eyes were wide with curiosity and something else.

Greed as she clutched the bills to her chest.

Somehow she had to convince Gram to deposit that money into the bank before it disappeared. And disappear it would. If she knew one thing about her father, it was that nobody’s money was safe in his presence.

She nudged Starr on the shoulder. “Put the money back in the jar. We don’t take money from other people.”

For a moment, the teen resisted. Then she shoved her fist into the jar, opened her hand wide, and let got of the bills. While Starr glared at her great-grandma in defiance and Gram glared back at her great-granddaughter in disappointment, Paige picked up the bills and coins off the countertop, and dropped them into the jar.

She twisted the lid back on and set the jar in the cupboard. “I’m not here for your money.”

Gram’s mouth flatlined. “Then why are you here? Don’t lie to me. What kind of trouble are you in now?”

“No trouble.”

Olivia turned her back on them, shook the loaf out of the pan, and cut a half dozen slices. She stacked them on the serving plate, her once nimble fingers bent with arthritis and old age. “I ain’t so old that I’ve forgotten what a lie looks like when it’s staring me in the face.”

Gram stomped away to slap the plate on the table, then sat down at her usual spot. Back straight. Expression like stone.

Paige eased onto the chair across from her.

The old lady glared at Starr and pointed to one of the chairs. “Sit.”

Starr slid onto the chair like she was sliding into first base, plunked her elbows on the table, and grabbed a slice off the tray. “I’m famished.”

The stiff upper lip on Gram’s face grew stiffer. “Ungrateful child. We give thanks in this house before we eat.”

Paige took the bread before Starr could cram it into her mouth, and set it on the plate in front of her daughter. “Elbows off the table.”

Giving Starr a narrow eyed look, she bent her head and put her hands together. While Gram said a prayer, Paige snuck a look at her grandma.

It seemed that nothing about the old lady had changed. She was still outspoken, determined to be right, and righteous as only the eternally right could be.

Outside the window, the roar of a motorbike drew her attention. She saw Brody steer the bike down the driveway and onto the street, and she envied his freedom.

The wind blowing through his hair.

And if he was lucky, no family responsibilities, no lies and secrets to protect the people he loved.

As Gram unfolded her hands, her sharp gaze fixed on her houseguests and Paige steeled herself for what was coming next.

“Bedtime in this house is at 8:30—”

Starr nearly choked on the bread she’d crammed into her mouth. “Are you
kidding
?”

“No lollygagging in front of the drugstore or pestering the neighbors.” Gram pointed a boney finger at her great-granddaughter. “And no sneaking out your bedroom window or I’ll nail it shut.”

Starr turned to Paige, all snarky, annoyed, independent teen. “Seriously? This is how you want me to spend my vacation? I’m gonna rot here.”

Paige reached out to grab Starr’s hand. “I’m sorry, baby. Gram’s house. Gram’s rules.”

The teen shoved back her chair, jumped up from the table, and without excusing herself, rushed from the room.

Gram covered her mouth with one hand and snickered. “One down, two to go.”

“Two?” Paige narrowed her eyes at her grandmother. This is why she’d returned to Serendipity Island. “Where is he?”

“When people ask if I have a family, I tell them no family that I ever care to see or cares to see me back.” Gram leaned forward, the cloudiness of her faded blue eyes now clear, and fixed Paige with a beady glare. “Your dad is trouble, girl. I’ve told you a thousand times to stay away from him.”

She’d be more than happy to stay away from him.

Unfortunately, Jeb Calhoun had the uncanny ability to sniff out the weakness in people, and Gram would be the perfect target for his nefarious schemes.

CHAPTER THREE

Delores Peabody heard the sound of Brody's motorbike leave his yard and a hum of excitement flowed through her.

Soon you’ll be mine
, she thought as the roar of the bike drifted down the street, but as it quickly disappeared into the distance, boredom returned.