Caught Between a Lie and True Love (Caught Between series Book 1) Read online

  CAUGHT BETWEEN

  a Lie and True Love

  SHEILA SEABROOK

  STORY SYNOPSIS

  Paige Calhoun has spent years concealing the truth about her family. She’s got a new life now, centered around her daughter and her career, and there’s no room in it for anything—or anyone—else. But when instincts honed at the side of her con-artist dad warn her that her grandma is in trouble, she returns to Serendipity Island…where the web of lies she has told are in jeopardy of being uncovered.

  Brody Jackson always thought of Paige Calhoun as the little girl next door. Three years her senior, his sights were set on a football scholarship, and fame and fortune as a pro quarterback. But now he’s back home, his career down the tubes, battling the grandma from hell for permanent custody of his teenage daughter…all because of one careless mistake.

  Brody’s got no time for one hot woman who’s messing with his mind and his future. And Paige can’t afford to let one gorgeous man distract her from saving the residents of the island from her dad’s latest scam. All they both want is a life free from the past. Instead, they’re caught between the truth and true love…

  This book includes a family-phobic heroine, a hunky hero whose luck—and love life—are about to change, lies, humor, romance, chocolate chip cookies, nighttime shenanigans, a con-artist who swears he’s gone straight, teens with their own agenda, and a battle-of-the-sexes secondary romance.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to Grace and Darlene, the best day-job buddies a girl could ever have.

  Your friendship has brought me more joy than you’ll ever know, and your encouragement and support mean everything to me.

  DEAR READER

  Welcome to book one in the Caught Between series!

  First off, I want to thank authors Linda Style, Susan Vaughan, Ann Voss Peterson, and Virginia Kelly for their patience during our two day search for the perfect island name. I started out with a really blah name for my fictitious Caribbean island, and with their help, ended up with one that totally rocks.

  Serendipity Island…it was one of the very last suggestions, which meant I was getting pretty worried that I’d never find the ‘right’ name. At first, I discarded it. Although I can spell it, my tongue gets tangled up in all of those vowels and syllables.

  And to be perfectly honest, I really didn’t know what it meant. So I finally looked it up in the Scrivener dictionary:

  serendipity |ˌserənˈdipitē|

  noun

  the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way: a fortunate stroke of serendipity | a series of small serendipities.

  ORIGIN 1754: coined by Horace Walpole, suggested by The Three Princes of Serendip, the title of a fairy tale in which the heroes “were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of.”

  It turned out to be the perfect word for the theme of this series. None of my heroes and heroines go looking for love. They’re too busy living life, dealing with family, and trying to stay sane in a world filled with complications. But when love falls in their lap…

  Seriously, do you want me to ruin the story? Just turn the page and start reading already!

  CAUGHT BETWEEN

  a Lie and True Love

  CHAPTER ONE

  When Paige Calhoun’s past popped up on Serendipity Island, there was only one choice she could make. Return to the only real home she’d ever known or wanted, and rescue her grandma.

  Unfortunately, the last time she’d been on the tiny Caribbean island, she’d made one teeny-tiny mistake, and the obstinate old woman had disowned her forever.

  The thought of another sleepless night worrying about her grandma was worse than the inevitable rejection. And if something truly bad had happened, she’d never forgive herself for taking the easy way out and staying away.

  If Olivia Calhoun had one consistent trait, it was that she didn’t easily forgive and forget. No, the eighty-seven-year-old woman clung to her grudges like a lifeline. A very long lifeline.

  As she sat in the driver’s seat of her Mini Cooper and waited for the ferry gate to open, she glanced over at her thirteen-year-old daughter.

  Starr slumped on the seat like a rag doll, and listlessly flipped through the portfolio of Paige’s latest wedding dress designs. “These are awesome, Mom. Before you know it, your designs will be at the top of every bride’s wish list.”

  “Thanks, baby. Your support means everything to me.”

  The teen huffed out a dramatic sigh and kicked at the dash. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you for dragging me out of bed. You forced me to leave town in the middle of the night. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to my friends.”

  Paige wiped at the smudge left by the sneakers and through dark sunglasses, eyed the surly teen. “It wasn’t the middle of the night. It was six in the morning.”

  “You could have left me at home. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

  “Not likely.” Paige remembered what it was like to be a teen and to be bad. Oh, so very bad. She forced a smile and prayed her normally intuitive daughter didn’t notice the worry in it. “Besides, I like having you with me.”

  “What about what I want?”

  What either of them wanted at the moment was insignificant. Her instincts were never wrong. In fact, the one time she’d ignored them—the one time she’d listened to her heart instead of every cell in her body scream no—she’d lost everything, including a future here on the island.

  Paige pushed away thoughts of the past and tried another tactic. “It’s only for a week. It’ll be over before you know it. And when we get back to the city, we can do something fun. Your choice.”

  Starr closed the pad of drawings, set it on the backseat, and scowled. “You’re not planning to ask her to come live with us, are you?”

  Her grandma would never leave the island, but Starr didn’t know that, and Paige couldn’t help teasing the out-of-sorts teen. “It would be fun, wouldn’t it? You could share your bed with her and change her diapers.”

  Horror contorted the teen’s face, and Paige had to work at containing the first smile she’d felt since she’d heard that her dad had returned to the island.

  But then the teen settled down. “Ha ha, Mom, that’s so not funny.”

  She let the smile escape. “I thought it was.”

  “That’s because you love to torture me.”

  “Only because you’re so gullible.”

  Which she wasn’t, Paige silently acknowledged as the ferry bumped against the dock and the teen turned her glare on the island.

  Two years ago, Starr had still been childlike and innocent, a pleasure to be around. And then—almost overnight, it seemed—those teenage hormones had kicked in, and the near-stranger she was living with worried her more than she let on.

  Starr tugged at the bill of her baseball cap, all teenage attitude and misery.

  With her short dark hair stuffed under the baseball cap and an overlarge t-shirt hiding the beginning of feminine curves, the girl looked like she was going on nine instead of thirteen. But behind that deceptively innocent demeanor was a budding con-artist.

  The girl was too much like her grandfather for her own good.

  “I want to go home,” Starr grumbled as the ferry gate opened, and the cars in front of them began to move forward.

  Home.

  Gram’s house had been the closest place she’d ever had to a home…until she’d screwed things up and Gram had booted her to the curb.

&nbs
p; For a long time, Paige hadn’t understood why the determined old woman had been so angry.

  And then she’d had a daughter of her own, which had forced her to see beyond herself and her tiny world, and made her realize how important it was to want to protect someone from their own bad decisions.

  A horn honked behind them, and as she put the car into gear and pressed down on the gas pedal, she glanced in her rearview mirror.

  The humongous motorhome loomed dangerously close and could probably run over the Mini without much more notice than a speed bump. As she put distance between the two vehicles, she saw the driver, a distinguished looking older gentleman with salt and pepper hair who looked like any other tourist on the island.

  Paige steered the Mini off the ferry, and Starr sat up straighter, her natural curiosity taking over. “Where’s Olivia’s house?”

  “Don’t call her Olivia. She’s your great-grandmother.” Ignoring the stoney silence beside her, Paige pointed down the road. “It’s just a few blocks from the beach. Really, you’ll love it here so much, you’ll never want to leave.”

  Starr snorted, but didn’t say another word as Paige maneuvered the Mini through the narrow streets.

  All around them, palm trees danced in the gentle ocean breeze. To Paige, the island always seemed to smell of coconut suntan lotion and mangoes. She inhaled deeply, and some small part of her that she’d buried deep, relaxed and mellowed. But the good feeling would only last until they reached her grandma’s house.

  She could feel Starr’s gaze drill into her profile. “What?”

  “So why are we here?”

  Paige looked over at her precious daughter. “We’re family, Starr. We always take care of our own.”

  The teen snorted and kicked at the dash again. “Right. Which is why I’ve never met your grandma before. What about your dad? Why can’t he take care of her?”

  Her dad. The man who believed there was a silver lining in every dark cloud. “He’s always on the road. That’s why I lived with my grandma during the school year.”

  As they pulled up to the two story house where her grandma lived, the tightness in her stomach returned full force.

  She hadn’t talked to the stubborn old woman for thirteen years. What would they say to each other now?

  Paige followed her daughter out of the car, and stopped on the sidewalk to stare at the house.

  Beside her, Starr booted a rock chip onto the road. “Well, are we going in or are we going to stand on the street all day?”

  “Right.” Paige pulled open the gate and stepped into the yard. Tension moved from her shoulders up her neck, into her head, and settled in the pinched spot between her eyebrows.

  As they approached the front steps, Starr asked, “So why did you leave the island?”

  “We disagreed about everything.”

  “That’s not saying much. We disagree about everything, too, but you don’t see me leaving.”

  “No, thank goodness If I couldn’t see your smiling face every day, I don’t know what I’d do.” It was time to tell the truth, or at least enough of it to satisfy the girl. They were stuck here until the ferry came back to the island in a week, and somewhere along the line, Starr was sure to weasel at least part of the truth out of someone. “I left because I got into trouble.”

  Her daughter’s interest perked up. “You? In trouble? What kind?”

  “What kind doesn’t matter now. I was sixteen. I made a mistake. I got caught and paid the price.”

  Starr bent to scratch the back of her calf. “So why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “Because it was a long time ago, before you were even born. I put it behind me and moved on.”

  Starr stomped up the front steps, all surly teen, which didn’t bode well for first impressions, and rapped loudly on the screen door. “Good thing. This island is boring. I want to go back to the city to see my friends.”

  Would her grandma even let them past the front door? She glanced at her watch. If not, there was still time to return to the ferry. “I want you to be on your best behavior. No ruffling Gram’s feathers just because you’re bored.”

  “What if she tries to ruffle ours?”

  “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind that she will. All I’m asking is that you be polite and mindful of your manners. Don’t give her a reason to turn us away.”

  “I’ll try,” the teen muttered as the inner door swung open. “But I’m not making any promises I can’t keep.”

  Gram stood in the open doorway, small and frail and so much older than Paige remembered.

  “Who’s there?” she asked in a weak, wobbly voice, wariness clouding the blue-gray of her eyes.

  “It’s me, Gram.” At the elderly woman’s blank look, she added, “Paige. Your granddaughter.”

  The old lady blinked and frowned. “Ain’t got no granddaughter that I recall.” And then she opened her mouth wide and screamed, “Robbers.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Shocked by the healthy volume of her grandma’s voice, Paige grabbed Starr’s t-shirt, and dragged her back from the door in case a baseball bat followed the scream. “Gram, it’s me. Jeb’s daughter. You kicked me out and told me never to come back. Remember?”

  Her grandma squinted through the mesh of the screen door, the fear on her face replaced by a stiffening of her jaw and a thinning of her lips. An expression Paige was all too familiar with.

  “Paige? What are you doing here?”

  She let go of the breath she’d been holding. They might not be welcome, but at least they wouldn’t get arrested—she hoped. “We were in the neighborhood and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

  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 J
ackson.”

  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.”