Discreet: The Discreet Duet: Book I

by French, Nicole

  But they always came back. I couldn’t hide from them anymore. Not in New York, and certainly not here.

  “I’m going to get started on the lower cabin demo,” Will said with a dark look at Lucas. “Think about it. That’s all I ask.” He squeezed my hand once and walked down the stairs.

  I turned to Lucas, who was watching the doorway like he wanted to take his sledgehammer to it. Then he turned to me. “Who the hell is that guy? Why does he call you that?”

  I sighed. This had been coming for a while, but I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

  “It’s just a nickname,” I said.

  “A nickname,” he repeated. He hissed through his teeth in clear frustration. “I don’t like it. I don’t like him.”

  “Lucas—”

  “He’s weird. He dresses like a hobo, not to mention he’s lived on the lake for four years, and literally no one had met him until a few weeks ago. Who lives like that? And where the hell would he get the money to pay for something like rehab? Who does that without wanting something in return?”

  “You’re helping me out without wanting something in return.”

  Lucas looked like he wanted to argue with that statement, but didn’t say anything.

  I sighed. “We’re friends, Lucas.”

  “Just friends?”

  I didn’t answer. Lucas huffed. For a moment, his hands opened and closed, the only indicator of a secret battle he seemed to be waging between maintaining the peace and starting a battle.

  In the end, peace won. This time.

  “Mom—Mom wants to know if you’re going to come on Friday night,” he said. “To the party.”

  I looked up in surprise. “What party?”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Where’ve you been, Mags? You registered for the triathlon. It’s the big Fourth barbecue bash at the inn, the one to start the festivities. Mom’s doing an open house to welcome entrants. You can even invite Bon Jovi if you want.”

  I opened my mouth to protest the stupid nickname, but Lucas just smirked and kept talking.

  “Bring Ellie too,” he said. “Mom’ll watch out for her. And then…maybe afterward will be a good time for…I don’t know. An intervention or whatever. At least we can plan something.”

  I still didn’t answer. I felt bad enough about what was going on with my mom. Was a party really the best idea?

  But the reality was that Lucas’s family had been nothing but generous to me since I was a kid. This was a small town. There was no excuse that was going to work for getting me out of supporting the Forsters’ big night.

  “Come on, Mags. Mom has been planning this for months. She’ll be upset if you don’t come.”

  I pushed some needles around on the ground with my foot and sighed. “Yeah. Sure. Of course I’ll be there. I’ll see if Will wants to come, although I doubt it. And…and Mama too.”

  Lucas smiled, though his eyes tightened at the sound of Will’s name.

  “Great,” he said. “I’ll let her know.”

  25

  “Charades!” Linda cried out. “Come on, everyone, it’s my party, and I want to play charades.”

  It was the end of another successful event thrown by the Forsters, once again proving their status as the undisputed social royalty of Newman Lake. Their barbecue, which had consisted of a lake-wide potluck, four separate grills for burgers, ribs, and corn on the cob, and two kegs of Bud Light donated by Curly’s, was a rousing success. It had started just past four and was still going strong at nearly ten at night.

  After a week of suffering apologies from my mother, working my ass off helping the boys install the new drywall, sanding, priming, and painting the interiors of the cabins with Lucas and Will, and training for tomorrow’s race, I was ready to go home and let the lake rock me to sleep in the comfort of my shack. Carb load, drink a gallon of water, and get a good night’s sleep before I had to be up around five thirty to arrange my things at the Forsters’ the next morning.

  But there was no escaping Lucas’s puppy dog eyes when, day after day, he continued asking me if I planned to come, disregarding Will’s open glares or the way that Mama had been avoiding him all week. And really what choice did I have? The guy was single-handedly making a future possible for my mother. An appearance at a family barbecue wasn’t going to hurt.

  Mama, unsurprisingly, chose to stay home with a cocktail, muttering that she’d rather have her own party than deal with the catfights that inevitably happened whenever she spent time around Linda and her gaggle of friends.

  Will had also declined to come, though the visual daggers he shot at Lucas on his way out that night told me he struggled with the decision, regardless of his phobia of crowds. The connection between us had just continued, despite Lucas’s obvious disapproval. We spent every night together in my shack, more to assuage my guilt over what happened with Mama than because Will really felt more comfortable there. In the mornings, he almost always woke up frantic, as if startled by sleeping in a strange place. If he needed a little time on his own, I couldn’t blame him. I did wish he had a phone, though. It felt a little mushy, but I wanted to hear his voice before I went to sleep that night before the race.

  A chorus of half-hearted groans met an equally loud round of whoops and hollers around the fire pit at Linda’s suggestion. The group that still lingered were the usual suspects: Linda’s kids and their significant others, a few of their friends, plus some of the older crowd that made up the Forsters’ circle of friends. Only a few guests of the inn were hanging around—most of the people who had come for the triathlon were safely in bed already.

  Which was where I needed to be too.

  “Mom, come on,” Lucas put in, gesturing with the half-finished bottle of Bud Light in his hand. “No one likes charades.”

  “Lucas, what are you talking about?” Katie demanded. “You love charades. You never pass up an opportunity to be the center of attention.”

  Lucas shrugged, like that had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, and sank down on one of the big logs that circled the fire. Lindsay, of course, clung to his arm like a magnet, and he was responding in a way that made me think things had progressed beyond just friends for the two of them. I wouldn’t have cared except for the way Lucas kept staring at me, as if to say how do you like that?

  “Come on,” Lindsay egged him on, her blue eyes twinkling. She cuddled up in his arms, and sent me a daring look. “I want to see your skills, Lukey.”

  Beside her, Katie rolled her eyes. I didn’t even care about Lucas and Lindsay’s whatever-it-was, but the name “Lukey” made me want to vomit.

  “We can’t,” he protested more weakly this time. “We don’t have even teams.”

  “We do if he plays.”

  Everyone turned to follow Lindsay’s pointed finger. To my utter shock, Will came loping out of the shadows of the big yard, a dark, tall form in jeans and an unassuming navy blue hoodie that covered his hair and most of his face. He stopped short when he saw everyone looking at him, but when he found me, his shoulders relaxed.

  I just grinned.

  “Hey.” I stood up and walked to him, ignoring Lucas’s glare.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said. The firelight danced in his eyes, and he revealed a small smile, only for me.

  As much as I wanted to, I didn’t kiss him in front of Lucas and his family. Will frowned at the lack, but relaxed more when I did take his hand. I turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone, you remember Will. Linda, Don, this is Will Baker. He lives just across the lake from us, over by Sutton Bay.”

  “Nice to meet you, hon.” Linda shook his hand, followed by her husband. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink?”

  Will shook his head stiffly. “No, I’m all right. Thanks for having me. I’m sorry I’m a bit late to the party.”

  “You can have a beer if you want,” I said. I worried sometimes he didn’t drink at all because he thought it made me uncomfortable.

 
He just smiled at me. “It’s fine. I don’t need it.”

  “We’re just getting going, so you came at the perfect time.” Linda winked, then started writing down categories on a piece of paper. “Now then, Lucas. You and Lindsay need to divide up the teams, all right?”

  Will followed me back around the fire where we could sit down next to each other on a big log. It was then he finally pushed the hoodie back, revealing his hair tied in its characteristic knot at the back of his neck and a face that was almost—not quite—clean-shaven. There was still a layer of scruff, but it was close enough that I could see the skin below it.

  Everyone else was too busy chatting and arguing about teams to pay a newly beardless Will any attention. I, however, gasped.

  “Oh. My. God!” I whispered. “You shaved!”

  Will smirked, his eyes twinkling merrily, and I was a puddle.

  “I didn’t shave. I buzzed. And you better shut that pretty mouth of yours, Lily pad,” he said in a low voice that made my skin tingle. “It kind of makes me want to stick something in it. Like my tongue. Or something a little bigger…like I did last night.”

  I shivered, but somehow I managed to press my lips shut temporarily, squeezing my thighs together. Because really, now that I could see Will’s entire face, it was really hard to fight the bodily instincts to open whatever part of me this guy wanted. Will was so unassuming most of the time, but when he growled at me like that, it was hard to think about anything else than ripping his clothes off without a care where I was.

  He smiled wider at my reaction, and the first thing I noticed was that he had much bigger dimples than I’d seen before. The more I stared, the more Will’s shy smile grew, and two deep impressions appeared at the sides of his full mouth, now evident without the thick blond-brown pelt to cover them.

  The second thing I noticed was that the guy seriously did have a jaw that could cut glass, and right now it was glittering in the fire, the light glinting over the stubble in a way that made him look like he’d been cast in gold. Holy shit. Will was one thousand percent gorgeous. And, I realized, he was mine.

  He looked at me again, and his green eyes shone with pleasure. With a quick glance around the party, he leaned in and pressed a lightning-quick kiss on my mouth, which had somehow dropped open again, slipping in a bit of tongue for good measure before pulling back.

  “Told you to shut your mouth. And don’t get used to it,” he said with a wink that practically made me faint. “After this I’m not cutting anything for six months.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but found that, in a way, I didn’t want to. Even as I looked around the firelight, just about every woman there was sneaking covert glances in Will’s direction—even Lindsay, who did a double take when she caught sight of Will smiling at me. Hmmmm. Maybe I preferred being the only one who knew just what was hiding under that beard. Maybe I wanted him to save these moments for when it was just the two of us.

  Feeling a strange possessiveness that was completely new for me, I realized I wanted to hide him away. Protect him from whatever demons he’d been running from.

  “I like it shaved,” I told him. “But I like the beard too. Do whatever you want. I like you just the way you are.”

  A layer of nerves fell away from Will’s face, and he grinned, a smile that was brighter than the fire playing in front of us. My heart felt like it stopped for a split second, like the power in that smile was too much for it to handle. Seriously, it was like looking into the sun.

  “Lil,” he warned, though clearly he was enjoying this. “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

  I clapped a hand over it. Will chuckled hard—it was almost a full-throated laugh. Almost.

  “All right,” Lucas sharply interrupted my daze. “We got teams, and only because Mom wants to. Everyone has to play. That includes newcomers too.” He quirked an eyebrow at Will, as if trying to dare him to back out.

  Will just shrugged as he wrapped a long arm around my shoulders. “Sure, why not?”

  Immediately I relaxed.

  The game started out slow, then picked up as people jumped up to take turns. Linda tore up her list and put the crinkled papers into a bag, and several people started acting out things like catch phrases and film titles. Will, with his massive movie collection, was very good at guessing the film titles, though he would murmur them in my ear so I could call them out. I was pretty sure he was doing it to drive me crazy. The brush of his lips over the top of my ear every time he did it was unnerving, and half the time my voice would shake when I yelped the title aloud. But we were right, every time, and soon our team started to rack up points.

  “Okay.” Lucas jumped up for his turn, hopping from foot to foot like he was about to run a race. He held up two fingers.

  “Two words!” called Lindsay.

  Lucas nodded, and started acting out…something. He raised his thick arms over his head, then brought them down by his sides and started stepping from side to side before standing still.

  “Soldier!”

  “Rocket!”

  “Jumping bean!”

  The guesses from Lucas’s team came furiously—mostly from Lindsay and Linda—but none of them were right. Lucas became more and more visibly frustrated, shaking his head vehemently as he continued his same strange dance with his arms occasionally held akimbo, but generally thrust down at his side.

  “Telephone pole!”

  “Pencil!”

  “Ruler!”

  “Penis!”

  The group exploded with laughter, with even Will chuckling when Lucas fell onto the ground with disappointment as his dad, the official time keeper, called out time.

  “It was Forrest Gump!” he shouted to the sky. “I was being a tree! Not my friggin’ junk!”

  “Ohhhhh!” His group all chanted their sudden awareness altogether, producing another round of laughter.

  “Lucas, do your Forrest Gump impression,” Lindsay said. She turned to her friends. “Have you guys seen him do this? He sounds just like him. Like, close your eyes when he does it.”

  Lucas didn’t need more than that to start. He clambered back to his seat, and with a grin, turned to Lindsay.

  “Life is like a box of chocolates…” he started to drone.

  I rolled my eyes. I had heard this before. It wasn’t actually that good of an impression—Lucas just effected a mild Southern accent and talked like an idiot, just like everyone else did when we were kids and our parents would put on that movie. It came out when I was about two, but every person I knew grew up with a DVD or even a VHS of that thing in their house. Everyone knew it.

  Beside me, Will snorted.

  Lucas looked up, irritated. “What?” he said. “You think you can do better, Bon Jovi? Good impressions are actually really hard.”

  Will shrugged, but the arm around me tightened. “It’s all right.”

  Lucas smirked at Lindsay, as if to say, Look at this fool.

  “But you got the accent all wrong,” Will said like everyone else understood what he meant completely. “You sound like you’re from Texas, not Alabama.”

  I turned and blinked at him. What? How would he know that?

  “Oh, boys. Let’s keep it civil, now,” Linda warned.

  Lucas crossed his arms. “Oh? What’re you, some Southern accent specialist? Aren’t you from somewhere back east or someplace like that?”

  Will’s jaw tensed, and I could practically feel the gears turning in his head. The hand over my shoulder clenched into a fist, and for a second, I thought he was going to get up and punch Lucas or something equally terrible. I was the only one here who had ever seen that temper, and though I hoped Will wasn’t about to go throwing Linda’s hand-carved camp tables into the lake, I wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t. There was always that part of him that seemed completely unpredictable.

  And he was. Just not in the way I ever expected. Of course.

  All at once, Will removed his arm from my shoulder, scooted about a foot away from me
down the log, and sat up. His entire body language and positioning shifted, though the changes were so subtle, it was difficult to tell what he had done. But in a second, he went from being closed-off Will Baker to being someone…else. Someone completely different.

  Then he opened his mouth, and I knew exactly who he was: “Those must be comfortable shoes.”

  The whole group went silent. My mouth dropped, along with a few others’.

  “I bet you could walk all day in shoes like that and not feel a thing,” Will continued. “I wish I had shoes like that.”

  He stared at me, like he was waiting for me to say something. It took me a while, but eventually, I figured it out as the famous scene came back to me.

  “M-my feet hurt,” I said, and everyone laughed lightly, then dropped into silence again as Will continued.

  For my part, I could do nothing but stare, enthralled, as he continued through the opening monologue to Forrest Gump. The messy blond hair, the muscles that bulged through his thin sweatshirt, the sculpted face and penetrating green eyes—all of it disappeared under the body language and absolutely pitch-perfect rendering of the Alabama accent Tom Hanks had used. Will Baker no longer existed. I was sitting right next to Forrest Gump, listening to him talk about shoes, people, all the things he could remember about them. I was on the set of the movie, watching him play with his nonexistent tie, shuffle his feet together, and there was practically a feather floating in the air next to him—that was how convincing he was.

  By the time he got to the final line where the scene melts to a child in leg braces, Will turned to everyone else, and fairly shouted it, sounding exactly as it had in the movie: “Mama said they’d take me anywhere!”

  As if on cue, everyone there, even Lindsay and Lucas, burst into sudden applause, whooping and hollering as Will scooted back to his place next to me, slipped his arm back around my shoulders, and pulled me into his side.

  “Holy shit,” I murmured as he glanced down. His cheeks were flushed, but it seemed to me to be as much from pleasure as from embarrassment. The dimples were out in force. “Where did that come from, Baker?”