Oh, shit. I didn’t think of that. “Hang on. I might have something that will work.” Grabbing my rucksack, I rummage through it and pull out a blanket wrapped in plastic. I rip it open, take out the cover, and spread it beside her. “How’s that?”
She raises a brow. “Is that Army issued?”
“First-class issued. Four people gave up their seats for us.”
“That was nice, but I don’t think you’re supposed to keep those.”
I grin. “When you’re done with it, I’ll ask the guys at the counter what we should do.”
She lays Hazel in the middle. After rearranging the piles of blankets to her liking, she sits again, legs crisscrossed. Her shoulders are rigid, and that stubborn chin of hers hasn’t softened at all. “Thank you... again.”
“Welcome... again.” I nod at the bags of food. “Ladies first. Take your pick. Neither contains onions, peppers, or caffeine.”
She grabs the one closest to her, along with a bottle of water. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know, but I needed the distraction.” My grin slips a little. “Eat up. No telling how long we’re going to be stuck here.”
Chapter 2
Campbell
Knight is a stranger.
A stranger who needs me as a distraction and said I’m his wife.
He’d be a complete, albeit sexy, stranger had it not been for his introduction. I’d heard of the Kings of Castle Beach.
How they lost their fortune.
How they lost their father.
Back in high school, my best friend’s sister had dated a King and talked incessantly about them. It drove me crazy enough that I remember to this day how she gushed over one King in particular. “Are you related to Deacon King?” I ask.
“Matter of fact, I am. He’s my brother.” Suddenly, his brows dip, his gaze going straight to Hazel. I want to groan in frustration. Perfect. He thinks Hazel is his brother’s daughter.
“My high school best friend’s older sister dated Deacon for a while. I figured with an unusual name like yours and his, you must be related.”
He laughs, his curious gaze turning friendly. He has nice eyes, the color of the ocean in winter. “Yeah, my mom had, actually still has, this obsession with royalty. The Royal family... all things British and Scottish, really. Imagine the possibilities with six kids.”
His laid-back manner puts me at ease, something I haven’t felt for a very long time. “I can’t imagine anything more... royal than Knight.”
“If royal means odd, you’d be right.” He leans against the row of chairs, one long leg straight while the other is bent at the knee. “Prepare yourself—there’s Duke, Barron, Deacon—he keeps us humble, me, Quinn, and... and Laird.”
I don’t miss the catch in his voice, but I do choose to not ask about it. Instead, I settle on a safer question. One that can be asked of anyone without seeming like the beginning of an intimate moment. “Quinn?”
“It means fifth born and as close to queen as Dad would allow my momma to get. He picked all of our very sensible middle names, with Momma’s approval.” Knight shakes his head. “Growing up, we got so much crap about our names from other kids. I didn’t care really. I liked having something that connected me to my siblings.”
I glance at Hazel, wondering if I want her to have siblings. Her rose-colored lips are parted, and her eyes are closed. Dark lashes are starting to grow. She is the most precious person in my life. Too bad her dad didn’t even want her to be born. Well, too bad for him, not me. I don’t regret having my baby at all.
I do miss sleep and ... yeah, mostly sleep.
“I named Hazel after my grandmother.” I toy with the edge of Hazel’s blanket with the hand that hasn’t touched the food. Greasy cheeseburgers are not friends when there is no access to a washer and dryer. “She was the kind of grandmother every kid should have.” And she was a hell of a lot better than my own mother.
My heart pinches. I miss my nana so much.
“Campbell isn’t that common. Any special meaning behind it?” He takes a bite of his burger, his expression expectant. “Brothers? Sisters?”
Have I opened a can of worms by talking with him?
Will he expect me to give him something in return?
Stop painting him with the same brush as your exes. Would you want to be lumped in with the stereotypical dumb blonde or slow southerner by a guy?
“Campbell is my mother’s maiden name, and I have a younger brother—Caine. However, the only thing my momma is obsessed with is her social standing.” I grimace a little, then resume eating my lunch. “Sorry for the TMI.”
“You’re good.”
When I don’t try to keep the conversation going, he doesn’t press for more. Instead, he continues to eat and starts up a conversation with a guy two seats down, who is playing Tetris on an iPad.
Has Knight ever met a stranger?
While he bonds over the game, I finish eating and check my phone for any missed texts.
Who am I kidding?
There won’t be any. In fact, there aren’t any. Not even one of my so-called friends back in Los Angeles has spoken to me since I had Hazel. Actually, if I’m honest, it started before then. It started as soon as Donovan and I broke up. Once I didn’t have access to one of the biggest Hollywood producers on the planet, those same girls who called themselves my best friends on Insta and Snapchat began to ghost me.
Except I feel more like the ghost. It’s like I’ve ceased to exist.
Until Knight noticed me.
I peer at him from under my lashes, hoping he doesn’t catch me ogling him. I mean, I’m not interested in anyone right now, but Knight is mighty fine on the eyes with his light brown hair and grey eyes. From his sharp cheekbones to his full, sexy lips, he is incredibly man-candy worthy.
“Dude, I was on level eighteen and my phone died. Straight up crashes and burns. Lost my points... had to start over,” Knight says with a laugh, and butterflies flutter low in my stomach. “Good luck with level twenty. I heard it’s ridiculously fast.”
“Thanks, man. And thanks for your service,” the guy replies.
Knight ducks his head a little, his cheeks heating even as his eyes get an uncomfortable look to them. “Yeah. Anytime.”
As soon as the guy puts on headphones, I clear my throat. “Do you feel weird when people thank you?”
“Am I that obvious?”
I shrug. “Most guys don’t blush when they’re thanked.”
“Don’t like the attention. Bad enough I have to travel in this.” He pinches his t-shirt and pulls it out before letting go. “When we travel together, it’s a bit easier. Alone... and I feel like all eyes are on me.”
“Welcome to my world,” I say, nodding at Hazel. “Try traveling with a baby. Everyone wants to touch her, ask me about my marital status... Basically, it’s like there’s a neon ask me anything sign over my head.”
He eyes me for a moment. “What is your marital status?”
Is he... hitting on me? “You should know,” I remind him.
“Ah, that. Fine. We’re not married anymore, which would make me single.” He tilts his head to one side. “What about you?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Asking for a friend.” He winks, and I bite back a grin. “Feel free to tell me to tell my friend to shove it.”
“I’m single, but I’m not... I’m focused on her right now.” I check on Hazel. “She’s my entire world.”
The sound of microphone feedback echoes before a woman begins to talk. She lists what seems like every single outbound flight to points north and east as cancelled or delayed until further notice.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Knight mutters before he raises his voice a little. “Campbell, where are you headed, honey?”
“Back home.”
“RDU or...?”
“RDU. What about you and your buddies?” I ask, hoping he’s at least delayed. Silly, I know, but he’
s kind. He bought lunch, and I feel safe around him.
“La Guardia.”
I cheer on the inside. “Too bad.”
“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” he says. At that moment, I yawn so big my jaw cracks. He eyes me, then says, “Take a nap. I’ll keep watch.”
Too good to be true. Knight has to be, or he has a hero complex. “You’ve already done enough.”
He leans in, the scent of his aftershave mouthwatering. “Honey, I got this. You and Hazel sleep. I’ll keep y’all safe. I swear on my father’s grave I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”
Tears well up in my eyes.
Stupid tears that have no business showing up. “You didn’t have to go that far,” I whisper, exhaustion hitting me like a battering ram. My defenses against it are so weak it nearly breaks me into pieces. “I...” Biting my lower lip, I get my emotions under control as much as possible. “Okay.”
“Let me get you another blanket.” Quick as anything, he rummages through the other rucksacks that look like his and pulls out two more blankets. “Score.” With a triumphant grin, he rips them out of their packages and helps make my bed.
I sit there dumfounded and amazed at his efficiency, as well as his willingness to help me in my time of need. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love my momma. When she finally got the help she needed, I saw the difference it made.” He tugs at the collar of his t-shirt. “But it was almost too late.”
I touch his arm, the heat of his skin scorching as sparks of desire flare. “Knight, you weren’t too late. In fact, I’d say you were right on time.”
Chapter 3
Knight
MY OFFER TO WATCH OVER Campbell and her baby is nixed by none other than Hazel herself. As soon as her momma’s head hit the blanket, she woke up and let out a bloodcurdling scream that was loud enough to wake the dead and make me think of mortar attacks.
Campbell fusses over Hazel, checking her diaper, trying to nurse her, burping her... No matter what she does, the baby won’t be soothed.
And by the look on Campbell’s face, she’s going from exhausted to straight up desperate and embarrassed.
“Okay, sweet girl. We’ll walk around again.” Her words end in a whimper, and I can’t sit idly by a second longer.
“Let me.”
Chocolate-colored eyes meet mine. “Knight, I—”
Hazel wails louder, her arms flailing as the rest of her stretches out in a hard line. “I’ll stay right here.”
Biting her lip, she nods and allows me to take Hazel. I snuggle the baby against my throat, just like I used to do with my niece, and start to walk with her.
Campbell makes a sound of distress.
“Right here, sweetheart. Not going anywhere,” I assure her.
Hazel’s cries grow weaker, but in a good way. Maybe she likes the sound of my voice.
“Hey, sweet girl,” I say, stopping in the middle of the aisle. “Want me to tell you a story?”
Hazel lets out a high-pitched wail in response.
Nope. My voice isn’t helping.
“Pat her back while you walk,” Campbell suggests, worrying on her bottom lip so hard I’m sure it will end up bloody soon. “That’s what she wants, I think? I don’t know anymore.”
“Yes, ma’am.” At first, it’s a little awkward to hold Hazel and pat her back, but I somehow get the hang of it. Soon, Hazel is only letting out little whimpers. “See, we got this,” I say to Campbell. “You knew exactly what to do, Momma.”
Campbell’s cheeks flush pink, her dark eyes starting to shine. “If I knew what to do, you wouldn’t have to hold her.”
“Nah, I have more experience than you.” I nod to the right. “Let’s go for a longer walk.”
She joins me. “Do tell me all about your experiences with babies.”
“When my niece was little, I helped raise her. Her momma ran off, and Duke was trying his best to keep what was left of the business going. He was... at the end of his rope. Quinn and I were the only ones living at home old enough to help. Well, Laird kind of helped. He mostly stayed out of the way because he was afraid of shitty diapers.” I laugh, the pain in my chest easing and constricting as memories of my family come to the forefront. “Can’t say I blame him. Personally, I think taking care of a baby helped prepare me for the Army. There was nothing they could ask me to do that was any worse than being simultaneously covered in vomit and shit. River had food allergies, still does, but uh, she’s ten now and got things under control.”
“Wow. You’re... You’ve always been rescuing people, haven’t you?” she says.
“That’s your takeaway?”
She shrugs. “I figured you had a duty to live up to your name.”
“I like helping people. Never looked at it as something I had to do,” I counter. She grins, a teasing light entering her eyes. “Oh, you got jokes huh?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” She touches Hazel, gently stroking the side of her face with her fingertips. “I think she’s asleep again.”
“How old is she?”
“Two months.”
I run my gaze over Campbell. No fucking wonder she’s exhausted. She practically just gave birth. “Where’s the dad?”
Campbell looks away. “Not in the picture.”
“When did he leave?” Yeah, it’s not my business, but I need to know these things because, honestly, I am a liar. I do feel a need to help people. It’s in my DNA, and I can’t change that any more than I can permanently change the color of my eyes.”
“As soon as I shared the good news,” she smiles bitterly, “He gave me cash to take care of the problem. When I didn’t, he kicked me out of his place. I... eventually ended up in a women’s shelter.” She lets out a shuddering breath. “When we broke up, no one would hire me for modeling jobs. The only ones I could get paid the minimum. I couldn’t afford transportation, an apartment... food. I stayed with friends on and off until I started to show. Suddenly, hardly anyone was returning my calls or texts. My mother would say I got what I deserved for running away from... everything.”
“I take it going back home isn’t going to be pleasant?”
She shakes her head. “They won’t be throwing a party for me.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
“What about you? Headed home or somewhere else?” she asks.
“Somewhere else.”
“Dangerous or safe?”
I could be all bravado and badass—act like it’s nothing where my buddies and me are going, but that’s not me. “Dangerous.”
She frowns. “How long will you be there?”
“Five months, then back to Cali for the final countdown.”
“You’re getting out?”
I nod. “It’s time to move on.” And I’m fucking tired of the nightmares, of the unending missions, and the inability to form roots. “Not sure where I’ll go next.”
“Not Castle Beach?”
Hesitating, I sort through my thoughts. “I haven’t decided if the good outweighs the bad.”
“What’s so good about it?” she asks.
“You don’t want to know the bad?”
“It’s not the bad you need reminding of. The bad is always with us. At least until we remember the good.”
“When you put it that way...” I stop patting Hazel on her tiny back, rubbing in small circles instead. “The ocean, the sand... catching a wave at sunrise. The constant wind over the dunes. Watching sea turtles make their way to the ocean. The food... Blackbeard Days.”
“Blackbeard Days?” she asks. Apparently, she didn’t notice I left out my family, or she noticed and doesn’t want to pry. This woman is careful with her words. So careful it makes me wonder how she threw all caution to the wind and ran away from home.
“The Kings are Blackbeard’s descendants. One of many, seeing as how he was rumored to have thirteen wives.” I wriggle my brows at her, and she snorts. “Anyway, the Princes and the
Kings put it on. We have mock battles, an oyster-eating contest, pirate queen and king... basically, all the things that make small-town festivals fun.”
“You have a family with the last name of Prince in the same town as y’all?” Disbelief colors her tone.
“Nah, they live over in Royal Bay. Supposedly, they’re the decedents of Maynard.”
“The guy who beheaded Blackbeard?”
“The one and only.”
“Sounds like something you’d read in a book.”
I grin shamelessly. “You know what they say about the truth.”
“Well, you are strange, Knight King.” She bumps my hip with hers, and I chuckle. “Why don’t either of y’all have the last name of Teach or Maynard?”
“At the time, our ancestors were dealing with people who were not happy with what happened with Teach or with the one who did it. Supposedly, we became Kings first to spite the Maynards. Later, when their family took over Royal Bay, they became the Princes. It’s all a little fuzzy, but I’m sure they have their own family lore that explains it. Mine, however... we’re the Kings of the sea and the Princes have always eaten our bunker fuel.”
Until they kicked our asses when King Global Shipping nearly went under.
I frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I walk a little faster, and Campbell has to jog a little to keep up. Fuck. I need to slow down. “Sorry.”
“Bad memories?” she asks, no censure in her voice.
“A few.”
“If it makes a difference, I’d love to visit Castle Beach and meet the decedents of the one and only Blackbeard.”
“Sold you on it, huh?”
“You’re like a real estate pro.” Her smile lights up the airport terminal.
This woman... how easily she can make me feel like laughing. How easily she can make me feel normal, like my brother’s not missing at sea, and I’m not going off to war.
“Ready to attempt to sit down?” I ask.
Picture Perfect Lie Page 2
