Picture Perfect Lie

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Picture Perfect Lie Page 13

by Marquita Valentine


  And she didn’t simply say it for her or their family’s sake. She truly believes it. For her, the ocean is the bitch that stole her man. A jealous lover who wanted Laird for her own.

  Those words spoke to my heart, made me think of what I would do if I suddenly found myself completely cut off from Knight. If we were separated by distance, or worse... death.

  “You look so serious right now,” Knight says as we lay in bed. Hazel is between us, gnawing on the necklace he bought for her not so long ago in the Atlanta airport. Her feet are in the air. She wriggles them around and giggles.

  “Just thinking, is all.”

  It’s night time, almost Hazel’s bedtime, but she’s as wide awake as we are. I have to wonder if she can sense my mood, if she can feel how much the thought of losing Knight cuts all the way to my soul.

  Hazel rolls over, lifting her head and inching toward Knight. He pats her diaper-covered butt. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, before picking her up and lifting her above him. He grins, his teeth so bright under his dark beard as she soars above, trusting him to keep her safe. To not let her go.

  “Man she’s heavy,” he says to me and lowers Hazel to his chest. She turns her head to one side as he rubs her back. Slowly, so slowly, her sweet, little eyes close. Fat, little cheeks bloom with healthy color while her tiny rosebud mouth puckers.

  “Let me take the necklace off.” I unfasten it quickly, before the movements can wake her up.

  “Does she need anything before I put her to bed?”

  “Usually, I dance for her, but you took her on an airplane ride, so... she’s good.”

  He cocks a brow at me. “You dance?”

  “Told ya I have new moves to teach you.”

  He twists his lips. “You mean the ones you showed me earlier today?”

  My cheeks heat. I’m not ashamed at all, but I feel shy. Silly. Basically, I feel like Knight is my first crush and I don’t know how to act around him when he talks about kissing or sex. “Like those, yes.”

  “Can’t wait to see more.” He gets up from the bed, holding Hazel carefully to his bare chest. It’s lightly covered with hair, just the way I like it... and heavily muscled, also just the way I like it. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here.” I stretch out in bed, listening on the baby monitor as he walks in the room and puts Hazel down.

  “Night, sweet girl.” He says prayers with her, the same ones that my brother and I used to say at night.

  My lips quiver. “Stop being such a girl.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t since that’s what I’m attracted to.”

  I look up and Knight’s leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest and his pajama pants low on his hips.

  “Sorry. I’m all emotional.”

  “Don’t apologize for having feelings, Cam. Anyone who could sit at Laird’s memorial and not be moved is made of granite.”

  “I’m made of jellyfish.”

  “That’s a new one.”

  “Figured I’d go with a beach theme.”

  He moves to the bed, placing a knee on it and leaning down. His breath is minty and the scent of his soap is mouthwatering. I swear my nipples tighten in response.

  “Is there anything I can do to you to make you feel better?” he asks. He dips his head, his lips moving along on the tops of my breasts. “Anything at all?”

  “That’s nice.”

  He bites one of my nipples through my tank top and I let out a squeak. “Was that nice?”

  I shake my head.

  “Want me to do it again?”

  “Yes, but nicer.”

  A flash of a smile and then his mouth is on me, tugging and nipping. Gently biting and sucking until my fingers are clawing at the sheets.

  “You taste so sweet,” eh says.

  “Breast milk,” I remind him.

  “Not just that.” He climbs full on the bed and braces his elbows on either side of me. “Your lips taste sweet, too.”

  He kisses me, lingering until I’m gasping for air.

  “And right here.” He slides his hand under my thigh and moves it lower until his fingers can dig into the back of my knee. “I bet this tastes sweet, too.”

  He follows his hands with his mouth, naming almost every part of me, even down to my toes.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been handled this reverently, ever kissed so thoroughly, or ever been held so possessively like I’m made of precious jewels.

  By the time he enters me, I’m shaking.

  I’m gasping.

  Moaning.

  Needing him to give me more.

  He’s right there with me, hands roaming and gaze hot before he flips me on my stomach, pulls my hips to his and thrusts into me.

  His palm coasts down my back while his free hand dips between my thighs to lightly stroke me.

  I fall apart beneath him, my legs giving out because my orgasm is too strong.

  Tenderly, he turns me over again, Lifting my legs so that they wrap around his waist and he leans over me, his lips on mine.

  Heat and desire twine together, incinerating my body so that when he groans and finds his own release, there’s nothing left of me.

  There’s only us. Only Knight and Campbell, and one can’t exist without the other anymore.

  “I love you,” I whisper. There. It’s out in the universe. Knight can take my words or leave them. Put me back together with them, or take pieces of me when he rejects all I have to offer.

  He smiles and my heart pinches. “Not as much as I love you.”

  Chapter 22

  Knight

  I HAVE TEN DAYS LEFT to spend in Castle Beach, and I make each one count by spending almost every second with Campbell and Hazel.

  They’re a package deal, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who is the recipient. Right now, we’re on our way to The Grille for dinner. Unlike most nights, it’s just the three of us instead of half my family, and since the restaurant is rather close to my house, I drive the golf cart.

  “How did I not know you have one of these?” Campbell says. She turns to check on Hazel, who is safely buckled in her car seat, which is attached to a base I installed on the second row.

  “I tried to tell you, but you said you liked walking.”

  “Pretty sure you were offering me a car.”

  “In Castle Beach, golf carts are synonymous with cars.”

  Campbell eyes me.

  “Fine, I was offering the use of my car. But in my defense, Bertha needs to be driven regularly.”

  “You name your car?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” I wink at her, then make a pit stop at Bloom. I put the golf cart in park. “Be right back.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Campbell calls out. “Except maybe to dinner without you because I’m hungry.”

  “You can wait.”

  “I’m starving.”

  I jog back to the cart and kiss her swiftly. “I feel like you’re not talking about dinner anymore.”

  Her dark eyes glitter in the late afternoon sun. “While I feel like you’re taking too long.”

  I nuzzle her neck, and she laughs. “I think I’ll hang out here for a bit longer.”

  “Knight,” she breathes my name like a prayer. Her hands come to my shoulders and pull me closer. “I want dinner and then I want dessert. I feel like you’re the dessert.”

  “I can be your main course, sweetness.” Another kiss and I make myself turn away. “Promise I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  And now I’m wondering if we really need to go to dinner at all. There are leftovers in the fridge and fish in the freezer. I could probably talk her into—

  The door to Bloom opens and my brother Deacon comes waltzing out, holding a large bouquet of wildflowers. I would say it’s a shock to see him here, but he practically lives at Bloom—due to the fact he’s a serial lover of scorned women.

  “Here,” he says, thru
sting them to me. “These are yours.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He nods at the sign. “Buying flowers.”

  “For who?”

  He tilts his head to one side, wheat-colored hair gleaming. More than a few ladies stop dead in their tracks as they shop just to stare at him. Tourists... they don’t know any better because if they did, then they would know that Deacon King only loves three things in this world—his family, surfing, and himself.

  “Not sure. Hollis knows. So it’s all good.”

  “Hollis Monroe is a saint to deliver your apologies.”

  His blue eyes narrow, as if I’ve implied he doesn’t deserve to have a woman like Hollis do anything for him. “She’s well compensated for it.”

  “I love the flowers,” Campbell calls out, and I can’t help but smile and grimace.

  “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

  Deacon glances over my head and waves at Campbell. “Then you should have had them delivered by Saint Hollis.”

  I don’t have time for his grumpy ass. “I’ll be sure to do that next time.” I hold up the flowers. “Thanks.”

  Turning my attention to Campbell, I cross the small distance between us and hand them to her. “These are larger than I expected, but they are full of your favorite flowers.”

  “Too hard to pick just one.” She buries her nose in the middle of them. “They smell wonderful.”

  “But not as wonderful as surf and turf.”

  Biting her lip, she grins and shrugs. “Sorry. I really do love the flowers, though.”

  “Then that’s all that matters.” I swing around the front, hop inside, and smack my foot against the gas pedal.

  She clasps my hand with her smaller one. “I wish you didn’t have to go back.”

  “Me too.”

  “But we’ll get through it,” she says.

  “Whatever it takes,” I agree.

  I’M A GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT.

  That’s the only reason I can think of as to why I accepted a Skype call from Boston.

  Okay, so it’s not the only reason. I really do want to know how things are going and if any progress has been made since I left.

  Campbell sits beside me, painting her toenails a bright pink color.

  “Your lady friends miss you,” he starts off by saying.

  Campbell snickers. “How are the goats doings?”

  “Oh man, you told her about your secret loves?” He cackles like a witch at Halloween. “I thought I’d get you with that one, Campbell.”

  “You totally did.” She winks at me.

  Boston puffs up his chest. “Knew it.”

  “Anyway, tell the goats I miss their faces, but I’m more interested in how things are going with the humans living there.”

  “Things are going very well.” He scratches the side of his nose. “Two of the leaders are encouraging the rest of the village to give our ideas a chance.”

  “And the hostiles?”

  “The usual.”

  Which means sneak attacks at night with no casualties. “Does command want us out there much longer?”

  “Dude, anyone can hear our conversation.”

  “I don’t need coordinates. It’s a legit questions since I’ve been out of the loop for the past fourteen days.”

  Boston rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, dickwad.”

  Campbell gets up. “I think you two need some alone time.” She walks out of the living room on her heels.

  I don’t miss the way Boston tries to watch her go from his side of the screen. “You can’t see that far.”

  “My imagination can.”

  “Dude, that’s my wife.” The lie still slips so easily from my lips that I don’t notice Boston’s shock until it’s too late.

  “I won the bet.” He fist pumps the air. “I won the motherfucking bet. Didn’t know you had it in you, man.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I look around the room, feeling guilty when I shouldn’t, but who knows what the hell Boston will say next. “Mind if we talk about this when I get back?”

  “Sure, but first. Tell me what made you commit. I mean, I know you dig the single-mom types, but damn...”

  “Shut up.” I try to turn the volume down, but it’s stuck and Boston has no natural volume control. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s always been like that. You couldn’t help yourself, falling all over those women in need. Speaking of which, I heard through the grapevine that Marisa divorced her husband and has been asking about you.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “I thought you were married.”

  “Not for me. I meant for her and their son.”

  “That little boy loved you. I thought for sure the two of you would settle down. Eight months is a long fucking time, man. “

  “For the last time, I didn’t love Marisa. Her kid, yeah, I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t treat him like he was my own, but what was I supposed to do—pretend he didn’t exist?” I shake my head. “That’s not me. I always do the right thing, and you need to stop betting on that.”

  “Hey,” he says, an offended look in his eyes. “I bet on you this time, not against you. That’s how I won so much money.”

  “This conversation is over.”

  “See you when you get back. We’ll celebrate the marriage I never thought would happen.”

  Irritated as shit, I slam the laptop closed and scrub my hand over my face. I lean my head back against the sofa and exhale. “Join the Army, they said. Travel the world, they said. Meet idiots like Boston, they didn’t say.”

  Campbell clears her throat, and my eyes fly open. “I left the bottle of polish,” she says, not quite meeting my gaze as she plucks it from the side table.

  “Tell me you didn’t listen in on my conversation.” My stomach retracts, like I’ve just been kicked in it.

  “It would be impossible for me not to, unless I went to your momma’s house.”

  “Fair enough.” I brace for her accusations, for the righteous anger, because I deserve it. I know I do. “Do you want to talk about what Boston was yammering on about?”

  “Should I?” She rolls the bottle between her hands. “I mean, if it’s not true, then why would I take issue with anything I overheard?”

  I swallow. “Some of it’s true.”

  “Which parts?” Her chin turns stubborn. No, not stubborn, protective. “The one where you seem to have a thing for helping women, especially ones with kids, or the part where he didn’t think you had it in you to commit to this level?”

  “I don’t have a thing for... I don’t have a thing.” I run my hand through my hair. “Look, my last serious relationship was with a woman who had a kid. It’s not like I’m a serial dater, and I’m not hard up to be somebody’s daddy.”

  Her brows shoot up.

  “That didn’t come out the way I meant it.”

  “What way did you mean it?”

  I get up from the sofa, holding out my hands because I have to take her in my arms. I have to make her understand that she has nothing to worry about, nothing to fear, and that I don’t need to be anyone’s hero but hers.

  “I’m irritated you found out about Marisa that way, okay? That was a couple of years ago, and—”

  She sighs thickly, avoiding my hands by wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not mad because you have a past, Knight. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I did? What hurts is the fact there was a bet about me, about us, and you knew about it.”

  “I didn’t think it was important, and I swear to you I had no part in it.”

  She licks her lips. “So this other woman... now that you know she’s free, do you want her back? There’s nothing really holding you back but your sense of duty to Hazel and me.”

  Her voice cracks, and I feel lower than low. I’ve hurt her, made her doubt my love and loyalty to her. Made her feel like I’m only with her because that’s my thing.

  There are one
of two ways I can deal with this right now. I can argue with Campbell until I’m blue in the face, or I can let her get everything off her chest that’s bothering her and answer any questions she has with total honesty. I can listen, really listen for once, and stop being the guy who knows how to fix everything.

  “I don’t want Marisa back. Even if we weren’t together, I still wouldn’t want her back. I never loved her.”

  “Did you tell her you did?”

  “No,” I reply, hoping like hell she can hear the truth in my voice. “Never.”

  She gives me a skeptical look. “Have you ever been in love?”

  I nod slowly. “Yeah, but things didn’t work out. You, ah, you’ve met her mother.”

  “The last time you were in love was in high school?”

  I shrug. “Ask Quinn if you don’t believe me. Ariel broke my heart, but her mother thinks I was the one who left her for no reason at all.”

  “How did she break your heart?”

  “Cheated on me with a guy she went through chemo with. I get it now—they went through a lot together, but at the time, it hurt a lot.”

  Her face grows soft, understanding. “I remember how it felt to be cheated on. Rejected.”

  Stepping closer, I take the risk of touching her, gently cupping her shoulders and bending my knees a little so I can gaze into her pretty eyes. “I’m all in with you, honey. So in that I want to make you my real wife. I want to be your real husband and Hazel to be my real daughter.”

  Brown eyes round. “You’re only saying that.”

  “Damn straight, I’m saying that. I love you. I love Hazel, and I can’t see myself with anyone else but my girls. Forever.”

  “This is too good to be true,” she whispers. “And I hate the fact I think you’re only saying this so you won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “I can think of other ways that don’t involve the word ‘forever’ to avoid hurting your feelings.”

  She lets out a shaky laugh. “Just like before, you make it sound so easy. And just like before, I’m terrified it won’t last.”

  “Then let me prove to you that it will.” I kiss her cheek, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Marry me, Campbell. Right now. We’ll take Hazel with us, and we’ll get married in South Carolina.”

 

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