Fooled: The Cartwright Brothers Boxset Read online

  Print Edition

  Copyright © 2018 by Lilliana Anderson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Ember Designs

  Editing by Hot Tree Editing and Making Manuscripts

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  Book 1

  1. Best Night Ever

  2. I Didn’t Come Here to Talk

  3. Complete and Utter Fool

  4. Payment for Services Rendered

  5. Comfort Food and Family

  6. Duchess

  7. To the Man Who Steals Your Heart

  8. Reconnaissance Only

  9. Maybe You Drank Pee

  10. I’m Saving You

  11. There’s Always A Choice, Duchess

  12. Slave to Desire

  13. Air to Breathe

  14. Snitches Get Stitches

  15. It Might Work

  16. No One Touches My Wife

  17. A Sentimental Sod

  18. No Fucking Clue

  19. Begging Duchess

  20. At First Sight

  21. Don’t Leave Out a Thing

  22. A Loveable Rogue

  23. Teach Me

  24. Playing Angles

  25. An Olive Branch

  26. Don’t Keep Your Husband Waiting

  27. The Beast You Are

  28. All On Me

  29. Cash or Cheque

  30. Are They What I Think They Are?

  31. Me Over You

  32. Blanche and Stella

  33. I Know It

  34. Pinch Me

  Book 2

  1. At First Sight

  2. The Giant Fishbowl

  3. My Exorcist Impression

  4. Oh My My

  5. I Stole A Unicorn

  6. Kiss Me Again

  7. The Family Business

  8. I Get It Now

  9. Marriage By Default

  10. Good Enough

  11. Because You’re Family

  12. Get Yourself A Nicer Boyfriend

  13. She Doesn’t Get To Feel Sorry For You Anymore

  14. Her Horn’s A Little Bent

  15. Everyone Has Something To Prove

  16. Trying To Change Him

  17. Who The Fuck Are You

  18. Don’t Change Yourself For Anyone

  19. Samuel Cartwright 101

  20. Need

  21. The Good China

  22. Fucking Freedom

  23. Fight For It

  24. Perfect Job

  25. Despite Everything

  26. Starvation

  27. Swooping In

  28. Best Be On Your Way

  29. Fucking Selfish Bastard

  30. Worse Things To Be

  31. I’m Not Sorry

  32. Renewal

  Book 3

  1. MacGyver is full of shit

  2. None Of This Makes Any Sense

  3. All The Space In The Room

  4. Nothing To Lose And Everything To Gain

  5. Searching For Meaning

  6. You’ll Never Be Done With Me

  7. I Should Have Gone To Bed

  8. Two People Who Don’t Hate Each Other

  9. A Puddle Of Liquid That Can’t Even Speak

  10. Dog On A Leash

  11. The Woman You Need To Be

  12. It’s Been Weird

  13. Holy Fucking Pissflaps

  14. Castle Grayskull

  15. Do You Kill A Lot Of People?

  16. Knight In Stolen Armour

  17. Battle Cat

  18. Stand Here And Look Pretty

  19. All Hands On Deck

  20. A Completely Fucked-Up Kind Of Right

  21. Take It

  22. Born To Do This

  23. Criminals Are Like Cockroaches

  24. Hopeful Comfort

  25. The Cruellest Of Cruel

  26. As Green As Green Can Be

  27. Eight Hours

  28. The One Person Who Gives A Damn

  29. I’m Not A Cartwright

  30. Where Do I Sign?

  31. Let Me Be Your First

  32. A New Kind of Debt

  33. Band of Thieves

  34. Soppy As Fuck

  35. For A Girl Like Me

  Book 4

  1. Cartwright Property Management

  2. One Of The Boys

  3. Buds

  4. Just Sloane

  5. Drop Bears

  6. Pop a Mint

  7. Challenge Accepted

  8. Battle Of Wills

  9. Think of the Money

  10. The Devil’s Doorbell

  11. Wrong Brother

  12. Cat and Mouse

  13. Rogue

  14. No Girly Friends Shit

  15. Ace of Fucking Spades

  16. Just Friends

  17. Heads or Tails

  18. On The Clock

  19. Yahtzee

  20. Level The Playing Field

  21. Highly Inappropriate

  22. A Fucking Mess

  23. Mummy Issues

  24. Stick Around

  25. A Little Too Much

  26. A Twenty-First Century Woman

  27. Consequences

  28. The Last Word

  29. Something Worth Making It Back For

  30. Fucked-Up Shit

  31. Drowned In Secrets

  32. Perfection

  33. Fool Me Twice

  34. What If

  35. Security

  36. Promise

  37. Step One

  38. Red Towels

  39. Happily Ever After Goddammit

  40. Positive

  41. You Said To Call

  42. The Shit Hit the Fan

  43. War is Coming

  44. Willow

  Book 5

  1. Blissfully Alone

  2. And I’m Leaving

  3. Stuck On Things

  4. Hey Siri

  5. Sleeping or Passed Out

  6. Don’t Turn That Key

  7. Spill

  8. Don’t Call Me Daddy

  9. Babe?

  10. Always In Charge

  11. A Gentleman Too

  12. He’s a Devil

  13. Filthy

  14. Let’s Pretend

  15. Broken Together

  16. Pull Over

  17. A Lumbering Ballet

  18. The Monsters in my Mind

  19. Such a Baby

  20. Yours

  21. I’ll Hold Your Hand

  22. That Biker Could Really Bake

  23. My Fault

  24. A Terrible Man. Really Bad

  25. Failsafes

  26. Forever Yes

  27. Not Weakness

  28. My Paradise

  Epilogue

  Also by Lilliana Anderson

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  For the fools who dare

  Foreword

  This book was a dream. I woke up one night, laughing from the silliness of it, and the first thing I did was grab my phone and put everything I could remember into notes. I just had to write it. So it went on my list along with everything else I wished I had time for.

  This story had been itching the back of my mind, and I talked about it frequently, eager to work it into my schedule. I couldn’t really find time for it, then I thought fuck it, and shuffled everything to fit it in. And wow, did I have fun
writing this book!

  It’s supposed to be funny. It’s supposed to be silly. It’s supposed to be a little out of the realm of possible. The whole point of this story is to have a little fun and get lost in the crazy for a while and swoon a little while an expert lover behaves like the man every woman dreams off.

  If you finish this book smiling, then I’ve done my job.

  I’ll stop talking now. Enjoy!

  Book 1

  Fool Me Twice

  Chapter One

  Best Night Ever

  “I can’t believe your cousin themed her hens night pink and black. We look like we’re extras in a shitty stage production of Grease. Or worse, stewardesses on the Barbie Glamour Jet.”

  “Oh, Holland, it’s really not that bad.” Alesha sighed, leaning close to the worn-looking mirror of the club’s bathroom while she carefully touched up her bow-shaped pout. The colour she used was a shade of pink a little darker than the Barbie pink of our outfits. Pink looked great on her. It made me look like I fell in a vat of fairy floss while I got my snack on. Not pretty.

  With my mouth tight, I positioned my bleached-blonde locks over my shoulder and studied my reflection. My most striking feature peered back at me: two very big, round, honey-coloured eyes. In the warmth of the evening, my kohl eyeliner had smudged, giving them a slightly smoky look that I was unable to create on purpose. But I liked this happy accident, and decided to wear pencil eyeliner on hot nights more often. I sucked in my cheeks and turned my head side to side. The rest of my face was super-basic—round with a functional nose and some very average lips—nothing to write home about. I considered applying a fresh coat of lip gloss for something else to do while I waited for Alesha but chose not to. I was just going to drink it all off again, anyway.

  “I don’t know why we let her have outfit approval as well. We could’ve worn all black with pink earrings or something tiny like that to buck the trend.”

  Alesha laughed, moving on to powdering her nose. “Because we’re pushovers. And because it’s her wedding. We’ll get to boss everyone around and force them to wear unflattering colours too one day.”

  I scoffed. “Unlikely. We’re already in our thirties and haven’t even come close to a long-term relationship, let alone a marriage proposal.”

  Alesha and I had been best friends since primary school, when I moved in with my aunt who lived next door to her. She was practically my sister. In all that time, I could count our collective boyfriends on one hand—and that wasn’t even using all my fingers. We were perpetually single, a fact I’d grown accustomed to since my big three-oh. That was two years ago.

  She tucked her make-up into her purse, shrugging. “I still have hope.”

  She would. Out of the two of us, Alesha was by far the prettiest. She was tall and Olive Oyl thin, with light brown hair, chocolate doe eyes, and a heart-shaped face that she accentuated with a carefully crafted layer of make-up. Guys often approached her, but she was painfully shy and socially awkward. The last time a hot guy spoke to her, he asked if he could buy her a drink and she just looked at him, then blurted, “I put make-up on dead people.” Yes, Alesha was a beautician at a funeral parlour—a fact I kept advising her to save for at least the second date, but her awkwardness always beat out her common sense.

  I, on the other hand, was short and a little on the round side. Growing up, my aunt used to assure me that I was like a caterpillar, eating my way through all the leaves until I spun my cocoon and emerged a beautiful butterfly. She lied. I’m still a chubby caterpillar. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to embrace my curves and be unapologetic over my love of food—life’s too damn short to apologise for enjoying anything. I knew that better than anyone, especially since I was currently the exact age my mother was when she and my father died in a car accident. I was thirty-two and had hardly done a thing with my life. It was hard to imagine having it over already.

  The fact that my parents were gone wasn’t the reason I was still requesting a table for one. I wasn’t damaged in any way because of their passing; I’d been raised by an awesome woman who loved me so fiercely that I never once felt alone. Sure, I missed my parents, and I often wondered what my life would’ve been like if they’d stayed home that night, but I wasn’t defined by my orphan status. No, the only thing that defined me was a single word—big. Big booty, big personality, big boobs. I was larger than life in every way, and that wasn’t easy for a lot of men to take.

  I wasn’t always without male company, however. Every now and then, I managed to hook up with a chubby chaser. You know, those guys who just love the sight and feel of all that flesh. They were a riot for a short period of time. It just rarely went anywhere because I couldn’t handle that fetish long-term. I mean, what if I got sick and dropped all the weight? Would they leave because I didn’t fit their ideal anymore? At the end of the day, I just wanted someone who liked me for me. But at my age while attending the hens night for Alesha’s twenty-four-year-old cousin, I was pretty sure that particular someone didn’t exist for me. And I loved myself too much to settle for anything less than what a big beautiful woman like me deserved. I wanted a man who worshipped every part of me, inside and out.

  The bathroom door burst open, causing the previously muffled noise of the club to invade the room at full blast. Two giggling twenty-somethings rolled through the door and rushed for the stalls.

  “We should probably get back out there,” I said, dreading rejoining the black-and-pink, penis-straw-wielding gaggle of women. Hens nights typically stuck out like sore thumbs, but with us all dressed the same, it was even more obvious. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

  “One sec.” Alesha ran her fingers through her super-straight hair, neatening it even more than it already was. For someone who struggled to speak to the opposite sex, she sure spent a lot of time on her looks.

  Still waiting, I looked in the mirror and studied my face a moment longer. Maybe I should put a little more effort in too. Maybe wear a little more make-up, figure out what the hell all that contouring business was about. I was often told that I had ‘such a lovely face’. I didn’t know exactly what a ‘lovely face’ was supposed to be, but I did always hear the unsaid part of the sentence: ‘If only you’d lose the weight.’ Not like I hadn’t tried. I didn’t get why people needed to be so freaking judge-y; it wasn’t like they could catch my fatness from me.

  “OK. I’m done.” Alesha smiled, then tucked her purse under her arm. “Ready to sing some karaoke?”

  I laughed, following her out of the bathroom. “It’s literally the only reason I came.”

  * * *

  Most clubs have dark walls and a colourful light show to create the ambience. This particular one was all white: white walls, white floors, white tables and seating. The lighting glowed soft and blue, and the stage was a round platform directly across from the bar, big enough for a DJ, a microphone and the TV prompter. At full capacity, there was no shortage of warblers to take the stage. Some of them were OK, but others were nails-on-a-chalkboard terrible. I sat and listened, made conversation, sipped my margarita, clapped, and even whistled in all the right places. Then my patience was rewarded—it was my turn.

  “Holland, whooooo!” The hens girls cheered when my name was called, hooting and hollering while I made my way up to the stage. Once there, I waited for my song to start with a smile on my face as I adjusted the height of the mic. I could hear the murmurs in the audience, see people whispering to each other. I knew I harped on a lot about my size, but that was the world for a big girl—it was the sole focus of everyone who looked at you. Every time you stood up and tried to shine, everyone was judging and thinking the F-word—Fat. That’s why, whenever I got up to sing, I chose the most empowering song I could think of. My current favourite was Meghan Trainor’s “No”.