Beautiful Deception (Lake Loveless Book 4)

by Addison Moore

  “Hey.” His finger pulls my chin toward him, his brows quickly twisting with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” A dull laugh rumbles through me, turning my tears, me, into the perfect dichotomy. “You were perfect.” I reach up and kiss him, pulling him to me as his heated arms encapsulate me in their granite-like fortress.

  His lips brush over my cheeks, his steady breathing warming the icy tracks left in the wake of my tears. “I’m so sorry, Zoey.” His voice breaks as his arms tighten their grip over me. Abel is holding onto me as if I were lying at the razor’s edge of a cliff, ready to roll right off into a fiery abyss. He wouldn’t be that far off if he thought that. The truth is, I rolled off a long time ago. Anybody with eyes could see that. Surely, he knows what damaged goods he was messing with. And if he didn’t, these drenched cheeks have exposed all of my secrets, or at least the tip of the psychotic iceberg. My God, why did I ever agree to do this sober?

  Abel dots my lips with his before pulling back. The moon glows over him, exposing the idea of a naughty smile on his lips, those unrepentant blue eyes showing off all their cerulean glory.

  “I would give you my arms, my legs, my heart, my soul, my car, and my money to see you smile right about now.”

  A laugh bucks through me as I perk back to life, and the relief on his face is palpable.

  “I guess you owe me quite a bit,” I say, brushing his hair off his forehead. “You are a saint with your words but a sinner of the highest caliber with that body of yours. Are you sure you’re not wanted in all fifty states for crimes against humanity? It’s perfectly criminal not to have you performing nightly with any and every woman. You, my friend, are a national treasure.”

  Now it’s his turn to laugh. Abel’s entire body shakes as his chest trembles. “I wish I could say that’s exactly why I’m on the run.” His lungs fill with his next breath, taking me for a ride right along with them, and I give his chest a playful scratch.

  “I like this,” I whisper. “I like the feel of your body against mine. It feels right.” My lips turn down hard as the urge to bawl presses over me once again, but I fight it. “Did it feel right for you?” I meant for it to sound playful, seductive, and instead, the words bleed from my lips pathetic, weak, and childlike. A part of me wants to pull the pillow up over my head and shout for him to go, but my eyes can’t seem to break his magnetic stare.

  Abel dips a kiss to the nape of my neck, his lids hooded once again, his lips curling at the tips. “It felt insanely right. It felt electric, perfect.” His demeanor shifts, and gone is that playful gleam in his eyes. “It felt like home. I can’t think of a better way to describe it.”

  “Home,” I parrot the word back to him, trying it out on my lips to see how it feels, and it indeed feels perfect. “I want to be your home,” I say it lower than a whisper, my chin dipping as I look up at him from my lashes. “You’re my home.” I give a shrug and he presses a kiss to my shoulder, and just like that, his lips are moving over me once again, roaming, exploring, finding my mouth in a heated appreciation of this new adventure we’ve embarked on. Abel says I feel like home. Home. The one place I have never known in another human being before. Abel feels like home and so much more. I’ve stumbled off the edge of that proverbial cliff. I’m free-falling, spinning through the sky with a laugh brewing in my chest, a smile I could never shut down on my lips, and all the while gravity is pulling me to earth, to the open waiting arms of Abel McCarthy, my knight in shining armor. He was the last person I would have expected to catch me. The last person I would have wanted to do just that.

  I may have started out cold as ice to the man who holds me sure in his arms, but every last inch of me is on fire to have him, to hold onto him forever.

  But if I’ve learned anything from my past, I know that forever never lasts. Abel and I are destined to wind up hurt or dead. And if my track record speaks for itself, then the answer is both.

  Abel

  All night I dream of Loveless, of the crystalline lake, smooth as glass, of peach sunrises, fiery red sunsets, of smoke pluming from the chimney of a cabin, of Zoey and me curled up on a chair watching the heavens trade blue skies for dark clouds pregnant with revenge, ready to unleash its carnage all over this mountain town. I wake with a jolt, my left arm hooked around a soft body, something even softer lying over my hand.

  Zoey. Those manic kisses from the night before unfurl themselves in one snippet after another. Zoey was a tigress over the mattress, over me. Her body was my playground, and I was more than happy to reward her eagerness to entertain. She was under me, over me, on all fours, bent over, standing up, against the wall, on the floor—that tiny kitchen table might never be the same again. A dull smile rises to my lips as I peck the back of her head with a kiss. Her back arches toward me as she rolls over, a sleepy grin already there to greet me.

  “Hey, big boy. Is this a stickup or are you just really glad to see me?” Laughter bubbles in her throat as she lands a kiss to my cheek. “Good morning. As much as I appreciate your salute, I’m guessing it has to do with the bathroom, but I’m going to beat you to it.” She bounces out of bed, and I don’t miss the show. Her creamy skin looks good enough to eat, and I do plan on making a meal out of her again before I leave. Leave. Hell, there’s not a place I’d rather be. She’ll have to kick me out if she wants to get rid of me. I toss on my boxers and start up the coffee maker, pulling open the fridge and frowning at the meager offerings.

  “I’ll have to take you to breakfast,” I say as she falls back into bed, naked, nothing but that wayward grin she always seems to wear for me.

  “Who says I’m letting you back into the wild?” Zoey’s blonde hair is toppled over itself, her mascara smudged just enough, and those lips look freshly painted red. There’s something permanently seductive about her, the forever Marilyn Monroe.

  “In that case”—I finish up with the Keurig and land a cup of coffee on the table next to her, dot her lips with a kiss—“I’ll be right back.” I grab my jeans before heading into the bathroom and pull out my phone in the event the firm chose today to begin harassing me again. I’ve overstayed my deadline in Loveless. I was due back at the office today, but as soon as we got back last night, I knew I would never leave this mountain. I’m about to shoot a quick text to my secretary when I see six missed calls. I tap over and freeze when I see the number. Elizabeth. Three calls yesterday, two this morning. It feels urgent but no messages. Strange.

  “Everything okay in there?” Zoey pounds on the wall. “You need me to show you what goes where?”

  “I’m good.” I bury the phone in my jeans again. It takes another five minutes before I’m back out, gliding over the bed, wrapping my arms around her heated body, still naked and waiting for me. I land a kiss to her neck, working my way slowly to her mouth, and stay there for a blissful eternity. Zoey tastes like sweet morning dew, sugar, a childhood summer spent on the lake, smoky and sultry all in one. I’ve never been one to partake in one-night stands. Every single woman that I’ve slept with has had some meaning to me, and Zoey most certainly has meaning. My entire body aches to have her again, and I do. One delicious bite at a time. Zoey and I go for it, unleashing an unbridled passion, painfully aware of the fact this tiny tin can acts as a megaphone given the right circumstances, and we most certainly give it the right circumstances. Zoey laughs, bites, begs, and lets out a delicious ear-piercing scream as I take her where she needs to be. I manage to produce another condom from my wallet and get me there right along with her. Zoey and I wrestle it out until late in the afternoon, our limbs blissfully tangled, her mouth never straying far from mine until we’re spent, lying in one another’s arms as the sun creates shadows in the room again, our bellies still empty, but we are satisfied in every other way.

  I press a heated kiss to her temple. “You ready to evict me yet?” I glance down, and my muscles freeze as I catch a slick trail running down her cheek. Zoey cried last night when we were through, and it looks as if our
act two has sponsored the same result. Shit. I scan my brain trying to figure out the psychology in this. In no way did she not want this. Unless, of course, my greed got the better of me and blinded me to the fact I’ve inflicted a grievous wound in this beautiful, sweet woman.

  Her fingers dig into my back. “You can’t leave. I won’t let you. You work way better than that pot-bellied stove.” Her legs wrap around me as she shivers, and I pull the comforter up over us.

  My lips brush over that wet track on her cheek. “What’s going on, Zoey? You’re scaring me.” I say that last part so low I’m not sure she heard.

  “A little bird like me scaring a big hulk like you?” She bats her lashes up at me, but there’s not a playful look about her. “I’m sorry.” She buries her face in my neck a moment. “I can’t help it. I’m broken, Abel. This is far more damage than a nice guy like you deserves heaped on him. How about we just forget about it and take a nap?” Her stomach growls loud and rambunctious, and we share a soft laugh.

  My thumb wipes away the remnants of her tears. “There’s not a single thing about you I’m willing to ignore.” I pull her in closer, her beautiful face just inches from mine. “Tell me about your pain. I’m here for you, Zoey. I promise I won’t say a word. I’ll be the ear you need to listen.” I hold my breath without meaning to. I’d do anything to pull the truth out of her. We all have our limits, and somewhere down the line Zoey met with hers. For whatever reason, her demons are revisiting themselves on our time, and I want to know why. This woman is too precious to be weeping on my arm, not like this, not after our bodies collided in the most beautiful way.

  Her eyes sharpen over mine, and it’s only then I can make out the faint traces of crimson bleeding out to the edges, her baby blue eyes on fire. “You first. I want the truth. What chased you to this mountain? I already know about the ex. Is she still that big a thorn in your side?” Her fingers brush over my lips. “Tell me everything.”

  My lips press tight as I shoot an accusatory look to where my phone lies silenced. “I told you. I have an overwhelming urge to write the great American novel.” I shed a shit-eating grin because we both know I just spouted a lie. Ironically, it’s the lie I fed myself.

  “I haven’t seen you doing too much pecking at the keyboard.” She tilts her head, her curls spilling to the side, cheery, as if they were happy to see me.

  “It’s called research.” My lips move over hers, slow and lingering until I move over to her neck and begin a little of that pecking she claims to never see.

  A deep belly laugh builds in her, and I press her body close to mine just to feel her reverberating off my chest. Zoey is a paradise all to herself, and I’m lucky enough to have her share it with me.

  Zoey pulls back, her fingers scratching at the scruff on my face. “And what kind of research would you call this?”

  “Field research.” My thumb pulls over her lips. Zoey is beautiful, but she doesn’t comprehend the power she wields with it. She can bring nations to their knees with a lift of a smile. It’s entirely unfair. “I’m exploring heaven right now,” I whisper, my eyes bearing hard into hers because I want her to hear it, feel it, understand how absolutely serious I am.

  “Heaven?” Her brows hike as if she were amused. “You do realize you have been graciously laid. No reason to butter me up, sweetheart.”

  I shake my head. “It’s the truth. You’re special, Zoey. The second I laid eyes on you, I knew I was in trouble. You had me at a smile, but you tied me up with your heart.” I trace a line down over her chest. “You rendered me useless as soon as you kissed me. How am I ever going to leave?” We hold strong to this hypnotic gaze. “What are you doing to me?”

  Her cherry-stained lips part as she struggles to speak. “I guess I’m going to have to keep you.” Her lips curve with the offer. “You’re mine, Abel McCarthy, and I don’t give a damn what anyone on this planet thinks about it. You understand me?” Her demeanor grows serious again, and I give a slight nod. “Good.” She pulls me in by the back of the neck. “Now give me a kiss and then make me yours in every single way. I’m going to please you, Abel, like no other woman ever has or will again. There will be no one else for you but me,” Zoey says it like a fact, a given, and I can’t help but agree with everything in me.

  “You belong to me.” I nod as if this were the only truth. But Zoey is right. I belong to her completely.

  “I’m yours.” Her body bucks with the idea of a laugh. “Get busy and make me happy. You’re taking me to dinner in an hour.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” My mouth covers hers, and I get busy doing exactly that, making Zoey happy. But once we’re through, I kiss her tears, taste the salt as they wet my lips, and I still don’t get where they came from.

  Zoey is hiding something, a secret so dark it has the power to unspool her at the most inopportune times. Somewhere in her heart lies a dark truth that prods at her, eats away at her vulnerability, and drowns her in tears. It won’t let her go, and she doesn’t dare share it. I’m determined to pull it from her, tease it from her soul so I can help her make sense of it. Baby steps. Zoey is opening up to me, owning me, making me hers in every single way. There’s no way I’m getting off this mountain until I’ve tackled her demon and beat the living shit out it. I’d bet good money its name is Holder.

  Zoey and I shower and dress and head outside to a night full of stars just like the one that ushered us into this bliss to begin with. But tonight the magic of the lake, of the baby blue moon above is smeared with the remnants of Zoey’s secret. Perhaps the next step in getting her to open up to me is to open up to her. I think it’s time I tell her how I really feel about her about us. I can feel those words bubbling up inside of me. When the time is right, I’m going to spill them at her feet and hope she doesn’t run.

  I help Zoey into the truck, and just as I’m about to do the same, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a text from Elizabeth.

  I’ll be coming to Loveless soon. We need to talk.

  I text right back.

  Don’t come. We have nothing to say.

  Take Me Home

  Zoey

  There is nothing like summer at Lake Loveless. Warm breezes, heavy blue skies, and the water—my God, the water changes color before your very eyes, a Monet that shifts its canvas with each hour, red in the morning, Caribbean blue in the early afternoon, auburn and gold as the sun dips into the horizon, then in a blaze of glory, the water is on fire once again, ending the day just the way it began in heated flames that emanate off the walls of granite that surround us, burning us alive with all of its beauty. Burning red.

  Abel and I have been burning—burning the sheets, burning the water, burning at the falls, in my bed, in his, in the back of his Rover, behind the Blue Crab, at the edge of the pier at midnight. Abel and I are burning red, shooting into the stratosphere with our heated affection, those three little words trembling over my lips each time he touches me. I can see them dancing in his eyes, though, and a very greedy part of me demands he says them first. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, so dangerously heated, filled with enough lust to rocket to the moon. Abel is tragically handsome, dreadfully intelligent, an appealingly well-rounded person and perfectly out of my league. A part of me is waiting for the big reveal, a shoe to drop, both shoes. I fear, I suspect our summer fun will come crashing to an end. I don’t think my heart can take it. But this is too good, too settled, too perfect, and nothing of that nature ever lasts with me. I’m a curse, and I’ve touched this.

  But for the last few weeks, Abel modeled for me freely, in my bed, at the lake near the wild reeds, at Forbidden Falls after dark under the candescent light of the moon, and not one sacred moment felt anywhere near cursed. It felt abnormally blessed. Beautiful beyond measure. And the aftermath produced not one but twelve gorgeous sketches that I poured my heart and soul into. Abel glows as he protrudes right off the page, and I mean that in the most sensual way.

  “A baker’s dozen,” Kennedy mar
vels as I set up the prints on the elongated table draped in black velvet dedicated to my work for the auction tonight. “Oh my living God,” she gasps as she takes them all in. “Should I be looking at these?” A laugh bucks from her chest. “He is my brother-in-law, after all.”

  The shoreline has been transformed into something just this side of a ballroom. Kennedy has festooned the vicinity with lavender tulle, trellises covered with twinkle lights, an entire canopy of lights that string from twelve-foot posts, affording us all the magic we’ll need on this balmy night. The caterers have already set up, filling the air with the scent of fresh burgers, grilled chicken that threatens to melt in your mouth. The subtle hint of something sweet is layered just underneath as it flirts with your senses. There’s a live band cuing up, and the sound of the electric guitar strums right through my solar plexus, enlivening me, making every cell in my body stand up at attention. There are some nights in your life that stand out above the rest, and I can tell tonight will be that night for me.

  I tuck my elbow in Kennedy’s rib. “Oh, come on. If you squint your eyes, it might as well be Caleb.”

  “You’re so right!”