Picture Perfect Lie

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Picture Perfect Lie Page 12

by Marquita Valentine


  “You can always go to Mom’s,” Knight says sharply, but I feel him smiling into my hair.

  “Don’t worry. I will later.” She breezes past us, but not before tossing out, “You know, so you two can hump like bunnies during adult alone time.”

  My eyes widen, and my face heats. There is no way I’ll stop hugging Knight because if I do, then I’ll have to face him.

  “I’m pretty sure Quinn should have gone into acting.”

  I nod. “She would be famous, too.”

  “You’re going to have to look at me eventually, Cam,” he says.

  “I know.”

  “Also, my sister’s right. It is cold, and you’re wearing short-sleeves.”

  “I know.”

  “All right.” He picks me up off my feet and walks inside. “I hope you’ll take note that I’m not carrying you like a sack of potatoes.”

  I smile at the memory his words invoke. “And I hope you’ll take note that we’re going to have to eat dinner like this.”

  “Who wants to see her daddy?” Quinn calls out.

  Now I have to let him go. Reluctantly, I do and it’s so worth it when his face lights up. Hazel waves her arms at him, babbling a mile a minute.

  “She knows me,” he says, wonder suffusing his voice. “She really knows me.”

  “Duh. You’re her daddy,” Quinn says, handing Hazel to him.

  “And you talk to her three times a week on camera.”

  Knight kisses her sweet head and gently hugs her. “Man, I missed you.”

  Quinn sniffs. She has genuine tears in her eyes, which makes me want to cry, too. But not happy tears. I feel guilty for this. Guilty for allowing her to believe this is a true family reunion.

  Only...

  Knight’s playing with Hazel as if he truly is happy to be home, as if she’s truly his daughter and he truly did miss her.

  His silver eyes are shiny when he winks at me. “Best homecoming I’ve ever had.”

  My heart swells about three sizes in my chest. “I hope you feel the same way about my cooking.”

  Quinn makes a face, holding out her hand to wriggle it back and forth. “You’re a good cook, but best food he ever had, I don’t—”

  “Shut it, sis.” He pulls me into his embrace and the three of us—Hazel, Knight, and me—are squished together. “Don’t ruin my homecoming with my girls.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she says, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “You’re welcome, by the way, because earlier he smelled like a skunk left on the side of the road for too long in the middle of summer.”

  “There it is.” He steps back, releasing me. “She can’t help the snark.”

  “You love my snark,” Quinn replies.

  Unable to stop myself, I sniff Knight’s arm and look at her in confusion. “He smells yummy.”

  She points to herself. “Again, you’re welcome.”

  KNIGHT’S GOOD MOOD lasts all through dinner. He holds Hazel the entire time, eating with one hand while she tugs on his beard and attempts to steal noodles from his fork.

  Quinn hoists the diaper bag higher on her shoulder. “Anything else you need to put in here, like, uh, the kitchen sink, for example?”

  “Nah. I already packed it.”

  She smiles and turns to Hazel. “Wave bye-bye”

  Hazel does as she asks, then reaches for me. “Uh-oh. I think she’s ready for bed.”

  “Which is why I’ll take her with me.” Quinn tickles Hazel under chin. “Wanna come with Auntie Quinn? We can go shopping.”

  Hazel all but dives out of my arms. “Guess she wants to go shopping.”

  Knight kisses Hazel’s cheek. “Be good for Aunt Quinn.”

  Hazel gives him an openmouthed kiss back. He presses it to his cheek. “That’s it. She’s not dating until she’s thirty-five at least.”

  “Oh my gosh.” I give Quinn a look, then realize what I’m doing. I’m playing along in the madness of our made-up world. “Thanks for taking her. If she gets too fussy, just text me and I’ll come get her.”

  “With what car?”

  “Uber.”

  Knight looks at me oddly, but doesn’t say anything.

  And once Quinn leaves with Hazel, he disappears to the back porch. After a few minutes of putting away the last of the dishes he took the time to wash and dry, I join him.

  “Would you like some wine or beer? I’m not sure what you like after dinner.”

  “Neither.”

  “Okay.” I nod, moving closer to him so I can perch on the arm of his chair. “Any dinner requests while you’re here?”

  “Whatever is fine.” He won’t stop gazing at the ocean. I don’t blame him, really, because with the lack of man-made light on the beach, the stars are easily seen.

  “Quinn is a lot of fun. We’ve kinda become friends over the past four months.”

  “That’s good.” His mouth flattens.

  “Did I say something wrong at dinner?”

  That makes him look up at me, and I can see his expression in the glow of the light inside.

  Standing, he frowns and moves away from me. “No.”

  “Then why won’t you talk to me, now that Hazel’s gone? Like have a real conversation?” I ask, hating how weak and vulnerable I sound right now. “I don’t expect you to perform on command, but a little civility would be nice. Maybe even I’m happy to see you, or I missed you.”

  Knight looks away, his hands clenching into fists. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk, and I do miss you... I just... I can’t right now.”

  “But you could with Quinn... and Hazel.”

  “Not the same.”

  I step into his line of vision, refusing to allow him to shut me out. “Why is that?”

  “They’re not you. And Hazel’s not... she needs me to do things for her.”

  It dawns on me that he really has no idea how to act around me. I don’t need to be fed or held or... well, I need to be held, but not in the same way my daughter does. He had it easy with her, instant results, and an adoring audience of one.

  “I need you, too,” I whisper. “I need you so much.”

  He peers at me, his pewter eyes hard. “Don’t say what you don’t mean, Cam.”

  I take his hand and place it against my chest, right over my heart. “I need you, Knight.”

  Heat flares.

  Rushes.

  Burns.

  And before I know what’s happening, his lips are pressed against mine. Claiming every inch of my mouth as he cups the back of my neck and pulls me closer.

  His other hand sweeps down my back, molding me against him so we’re fitted perfectly together.

  I breathe Knight in, just feel him take my breath away.

  On a gasp, his tongue slides against mine. Seeking and touching.

  I shiver with want and desire, with all the months of pent-up longing.

  I grip his arms, my fingertips digging into the material of his shirt. This kiss is more than I dreamed it would be, more erotic and sweet.

  More everything.

  “Cam,” he says, dragging his mouth from mine. “I have to stop. I... I’m not ready for this.”

  Cold invades my body, giving way to a hot flush of embarrassment. “Yeah. I’m not... I just... it’s... actually, you know what? I am ready for this. I wanted you to kiss me.”

  “That’s not the problem, sweetness. I am the problem.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He exhales. “I think you might be offering yourself to me because you feel as if you owe it to me.”

  I jerk away. “I’m not some child, and I know the difference between a true want and need, and owing a favor.”

  He closes his eyes, then opens them. “That’s not what I mean. I have to be sure that what you want isn’t tainted by what I’ve provided.”

  “Who are you?”

  “The man you met in Atlanta.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t assume
the worst about me.”

  “The worst isn’t about you. I want to take advantage of what you’re offering.”

  “Of what I’m offering?”

  “Dammit, Campbell. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  “By pushing me away? By making decisions for me instead of with me?”

  “That’s not... fuck. I’m not doing this.” He brushes past me, heading down the beach. “I need some time alone.”

  “Haven’t you already had enough time alone?”

  Silence is his reply.

  Unable to reason with him and not wanting things to spiral out of control, I go back inside.

  Chapter 20

  Knight

  NEAR DAWN, I WAKE UP in a cold sweat. The sheets are soaked, tangled up around my waist and legs. I’m trapped and the more I tug, the less free I become.

  My body shakes, trembles, and I fucking hate how weak I am in this moment.

  Campbell lays her hand against my forehead, like she’s a mom checking for fever, surprising me.

  With the way I talked to and treated her earlier, I’m surprised she’s in here at all.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  She wipes my face with a cool cloth. “Taking care of you.”

  I don’t deserve it. “Why?”

  “Because that’s what I do for my husband when he has a nightmare.”

  “We’re not married.” And I was a complete and utter jerk.

  “I know, but I’ve been thinking and talking about you in those terms for so long that it feels like we are.” She smiles softly at me. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No...” I run my tongue over my lips. They’re dry. “Yes.”

  She holds the cup to my lips, but instead of coaxing me to drink, she slips a straw inside. “Drink as much or as little as you want.”

  Not quite humiliated, I do as she says, drinking until nothing’s left.

  “Better?” she asks.

  “Yeah.” I roll over, not wanting her to see me like this, but she curls up behind me. “I’m sorry for earlier, for after dinner. I was a jerk.”

  “Do you have these a lot?” she asks, the tips of her fingers on my neck, pushing in and massaging.

  It doesn’t escape my notice that she ignored my apology. “I still owe you a back rub.”

  “Yes, you do, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  I cave. “I have them more than I want to.”

  She kisses my bare shoulder, and I shudder. “What can I do to make it easier on you?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something harsh, but the rational, kind side of me wins out. “Everything you did tonight was good. Just don’t, uh, try to wake me up in the middle of it. I might hurt you by accident.”

  “Got it.”

  I look at her over my shoulder. “Just like that?”

  She nods, her chocolate-colored eyes soft and serious. “Just like that.”

  “One day, I won’t have them anymore,” I tell her, but we both know that’s wishful thinking.

  “I know, but until then, I’ll be at your side, Knight.” She kisses my shoulder again.

  In that moment, my perception of everything changes, shifts, and I realize I love Campbell. I love her enough to fight for her, and I love her more than I love to save her or any other woman I’ll ever meet.

  “Wake me up when you need me to go back to my own bed,” she says on a yawn.

  Not a chance in hell will that happen. Tonight, at least, I’m keeping her at my side. “Will do.”

  LATER THAT MORNING, Campbell and I get ready for Laird’s memorial service. I settle on a dark shirt, dress pants, and tie while she wears a navy-blue dress that hugs her curves. Her blond curls are pulled away from her face to cascade down her slender back.

  She looks innocent and lovely. Sweet.

  And if I only had last night to judge her by, then I’d have to conclude she’s just as innocent, lovely, and sweet on the inside.

  Giving and selfless, too.

  “Quinn texted to say she’d bring Hazel to the service, so we didn’t have to go get her,” she says as she emerges from the room she shares with Hazel to join me in the living room. I was more than a little disappointed to learn that she slept in there instead of in the master bedroom. My sheets didn’t smell like anything but freshly washed linens.

  “We should have gotten a sitter for her.”

  Campbell smiles faintly, stopping just short of me and reaching up to smooth the collar of my shirt down. Her touch rocks me, and I have to take a step back.

  Rejection and hurt flares in her eyes, but I gently grab her hand and cradle it in mine, then lift it to my lips. “You make me think of things I have no business entertaining right now, especially after how I talked to you last night.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly why you should think them.” She moves closer to me. “There’s nothing wrong with celebrating life, Knight. You’ve seen so much death that I think you’ve forgotten how.”

  “The memorial service won’t help,” I say flatly.

  “We’re going to celebrate Laird’s life, not mourn his death.”

  “Same damn thing, sweetheart.” My jaw ticks, old hurts flowing through me, and what does the sweet woman standing in front of me do? She wraps her arms around me, holds me as close as I’ll allow.

  All the hollowness inside of me, especially the one that’s shaped like my brother, fills up with rage, sadness, and... hope.

  Hands trembling, I cup her shoulders, intending to push her away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t push away the woman who’s comforting me.

  I need this.

  I need her.

  For the second time in twenty-four hours, I’m the one who needs saving.

  “Thank you,” I kiss the top of her head “Thank you for putting up with me.”

  “I forgive you, Knight. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

  “Maybe not, but I want you to know how I feel.”

  She looks up, her pink lips a temptation I won’t deny myself. I dip my head, capturing her mouth in a hot kiss full of need and want.

  She responds in kind, holding nothing back and giving me everything. My grip tightens on her shoulders, but she doesn’t shrug them away. Instead, she presses closer, sweeps her tongue in my mouth, and sets my world on fire.

  I let my hand coast down her arm, curve around her hip, and grab the material of her dress. Inch by inch, I drag it up, until my palm connects with her thigh. Her skin is soft and warm.

  Alive.

  I push inward, searching for the crease between her pelvis and thigh. She jolts when I find it. When I slip my fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, she whimpers in my mouth.

  She’s wet.

  Hot.

  Needy.

  And I need her just as much.

  I push her against the closest wall, teasing and stroking her clit.

  Soft. So soft.

  My fingers are hard, calloused by my job, but they must be exactly what she needs because she juts her hips out, moaning.

  “More,” she gasps.

  Close. She’s so close.

  I push two fingers inside of her. Blood pounds in my ears, and my cock is straining against my zipper.

  I want to be inside of her. I want to feel her come on my dick, feel each ripple as her orgasm takes over and milks me until I have no choice but to follow.

  She lifts her leg, hooking it on my hip and giving me better access. Her kisses are frantic now, biting nips at my jaw and neck.

  Then her fingers are working at the button of my pants, her hands shoving them down and taking my boxer-briefs with them.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  She nods, pushing her underwear down. “Now... I want you. Now.”

  I enter her in two thrusts. She’s so small and tight that my eyes water and my head feels like it’s going to blow off at any minute.

  I have to slow down.
/>
  I have to take my time and make it good... and holy shit; I’m not wearing a condom.

  Gritting my teeth, I pull out of her tight heat. “We can’t.”

  “Do you have—”

  “Maybe?” I kiss her hard and drag her to the master bathroom with me, afraid she’ll change her mind if I let her go. I search the cabinets and find a box in the back. “Thanks fuck,” I mutter.

  Within second, I’m sheathed, but instead of entering Campbell right away, I set her on the counter and go to my knees. I push her dress to her waist and find her clit with my tongue.

  She clutches my head, pulling me in so deep I can barely breathe. Except every bit of air I’m breathing is her.

  I lick and suck, bite and nibble at her, until she cries my name and beats at my shoulders. But not until she urges me to get up do I stop.

  I grip my cock, squeezing it. “Do you want me?”

  She nods. “Yes.”

  Gripping her plump ass, I thrust hard. She cries out my name, her head falling back. The smooth column of her throat works, and I lick it.

  My fingers dig into her skin as I work her like a crazed maniac. I can’t get enough. Can’t get deep enough. Can’t slow down.

  Can’t think.

  I can only feel her, smell her... she’s the center of my universe.

  Her brown gaze meets mine, love shining so plainly that I’ve been a fool to even consider she’d leave once everyone knew the truth.

  With a growl, I pour myself inside of her, holding nothing back as she tightens around me and moans my name.

  “You belong to me,” I vow.

  “Always.”

  Chapter 21

  Campbell

  I’VE NEVER BEEN TO a memorial service before and while Laird’s was beautiful, I have no desire to ever go to another one.

  Yes, it celebrated his life, but I don’t think that was much comfort to his widow, Ophelia.

  Then again, he and Ophelia had been together since they were children. Knight told me that Laird loved her from the first time he saw her, and that nothing and no other woman had ever come between them.

  They’d even gotten married young—right out of high school because they couldn’t wait any longer. I can only imagine a love like that. A love that seems to defy death, because as far as Ophelia is concerned, Laird will come back to her.

 

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