Duplicity (Jilted Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  “Holt!” she squeals, as I grab her around the waist and jump, pulling her into the water with me.

  The shock of cold water has us both gasping when we surface to the sound of Foster and Anavrin’s laughter.

  “Asshole!” She swats a wave of water over me.

  We spend the next hour swimming and playing around. It’s so good to see her smiling and laughing after the week she’s had. Every minute that I can put my hands on her slick skin is a magnificent torture, and finally, I’m at my limit. I need to be inside her.

  I scoop her up and her arms loop around my neck. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking my girlfriend to bed.”

  Her lips are cool on my jaw. “No more friends with benefits.”

  “Nope, but let’s get you upstairs so I can give you the benefit of my tongue.”

  Sully has been blowing my phone up since my little impromptu press conference. After straightening things out with Kinley, nothing can steal the smile from my face, not even him. “Hey Sully,” I answer in a chipper tone I know will piss him off.

  His tirade begins without a hello. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea of the shitstorm you caused? Alicia’s agent and publicist are so far up my ass I could cough them out! And you cut your fucking hair!”

  I pour myself a drink and take a seat on the barstool. “That bitch wasn’t part of my contract. I’m not dealing with her anymore.”

  A string of curses pours from the phone, and I have to stifle a chuckle. “This is about that resort owner, isn’t it?”

  “I’m seeing Kinley. We won’t make it public—for her sake—but I’m not letting you or the label or anyone else screw this up.”

  “Holt, be reasonable. This can’t be a long term thing with her. You know why.”

  My stomach rolls because he’s not wrong. There’s something she doesn’t know. And it’s everything. “I want to tell her.”

  The pause on the other end of the line says a lot. “Are you insane? How do you think that’s going to go, huh?”

  “You can have her sign an NDA.”

  “Yeah, chicks are totally amenable when they’re pissed. She’ll kick you in the nuts and run right to the media!”

  His first prediction is likely, and so is her running from me, but she wouldn’t go to the media. “You don’t know her.”

  “Neither do you. You’ve been fucking her for what? Two months?” His tone turns patronizing. “Look, it’s an infatuation. Once you move, you’ll find someone else and forget about her. I know it.”

  “You don’t know shit.”

  I have to pull the phone away from my ear when he barks, “I know you signed a contract and if you break it, the label will sue you and your family until there’s nothing left. No money. No career. And it’ll all be for nothing because you’re fooling yourself if you think she’s just going to understand and forgive you!”

  Anger races through me, mainly because I know he’s right.

  “I hate this,” I mumble.

  He sighs. “It’s not a fucking party for me either. Look, just get through the summer, then we’ll see where we are, okay? Don’t make any other moves without telling me. It’s my job to keep this rickety pile of bullshit from collapsing and taking all of us down.”

  “You have until September, Sully. After that, I’m taking control of my life back. And in the meantime, Alicia will not be part of it.”

  “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “Call me if anything else happens.”

  “I’ll send you some shots of my new haircut. It suits me well, I think.”

  The smile returns to my face as I disconnect the call, cutting short his storm of expletives. Grinning at my phone, I take a couple of pictures of the new hairstyle and text it to him. All I get in return is the middle finger emoji.

  It feels like I won a small battle, but not the war. Because he’s right. I can’t come clean to Kinley without risking everything and until the day I can, I’ll always be on the brink of losing her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kinley

  So much has changed over the last few weeks that it’s hard to wrap my head around it. I have a boyfriend, an extremely famous, any-other-woman-would-kill-to-have-him boyfriend, and if that isn’t surreal enough, I have a mother.

  I’ve talked to my mom a few times since our first meeting, and we met for drinks a few nights ago as well. Everything seems to be going okay. I’d give anything to be able to talk to Dad and get his opinion on all this but judging by Clark and Harriet’s view of my mother, I don’t think he’d approve.

  Dad taught me to be forgiving and that everyone deserves a second chance, so that’s what I’m trying to do. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to have a parent again. We have plans to go shopping together in a few days and I’m excited to spend more time with her.

  We’re into our busy season at Foxhaven, but everything is going smoothly. Vera is doing a great job taking over my duties as manager, and the new assistant manager is working out well. I’m almost sorry when I get a message that Liam Carter would like to arrange two suites for the week.

  If Marcus Singleton is the most famous name in rock music, Liam is his country counterpart. With his tattoos, tight jeans, and bright blue hair, he doesn’t have the typical cowboy country look, which seems to endear him to the younger fans.

  I should be thrilled. This was what I wanted, what dad wanted, to bring in more elite guests. It’s the reason we had the suites remodeled and security upgraded. But Independence Day is this week, and I dread dealing with even more paparazzi and celebrity headaches.

  Reluctantly, I return the call to Liam’s agent, and assure him we’d love to accommodate Liam and the rest of his group. I arrange for him and his band to stay in the opposite wing from Holt’s suite, right down the hall from me, so I hope they don’t party too hard.

  Poor Clark and Harriet now have three suites to service, but I know they can handle it.

  I’m sitting on a bench in front of Foxhaven when Holt gets out of the dark car that takes him back and forth to the studio. I watch his muscles flex as he slings his guitar over his back, and marvel once again that he’s mine.

  “What’s going on? It’s a madhouse out there. Way worse than usual. Did I miss some tabloid bullshit?” he asks, sitting beside me and planting a quick kiss on my lips.

  “No, Liam Carter and his band are staying at Foxhaven for a week.”

  His smile wavers. “Look at you, bringing in all the big names.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not a giant mistake.” An oddity occurs to me. “Why haven’t any of the Jilted members come to visit? Aren’t you supposed to be working on an album?”

  He shrugs and looks away as he answers. “We needed a little break from each other. They’re waiting on me to write the songs, then the recording starts.”

  It seems to be a touchy subject, so I don’t pursue it. He stands up and takes a step back. “Meet me at the gazebo tonight? I want to show you something.”

  “I’ve seen your something, and you already know how impressive it is.”

  “Damn straight. I’m glad you recognize its gloriousness, but I have something else in mind. Eight o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  My stomach flutters at the sight of his charming smile, and he heads inside. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop having that response to him.

  An uproar just outside the gates tells me Liam has arrived seconds before a stretch limo pulls up in front of me. Clark and Herb are standing by in case there’s a problem, but none of the paparazzi or fans made it past the gate.

  Liam is the first to step out of the limo. Good god, it’s unfair that these guys get to have musical talent and also look like that. His bright blue hair, chopped short and left messy, does nothing to detract from his handsome face and thick body. He must spend a lot of time in the gym because he’s a pile of muscle and veins.

  “Mr. Carter,” I greet, s
ticking out my hand. “I’m Kinley Matthews, the owner. We’re happy to have you at Foxhaven.”

  His smile is sweet and sincere. “William Carter, but please, darlin’, call me Liam.”

  “Liam, then. The bellboys will get your things. If you’d like to come with me, I’ll show you to your suite.”

  Clark and Harriet are busy giving the same welcome and offer to the rest of the band, and a few minutes later, we all make our way to their suites.

  “This one is yours,” I say, unlocking the door then handing him a keycard. “Your band members are right next door. There’s a door that goes from the bedroom to one of the bedrooms in their suite if you’d like to connect them.”

  “Nah, let those assholes stay over there,” he laughs, looking around. “This place is amazing.”

  He’s sure a lot nicer than Holt was the first day. I never figured out why he was such a dick or the cause of the turn in his behavior, but I’m glad for it.

  “If you need anything, you can call Clark, a contact card is on the table, and Harriet is the housekeeper assigned to your suites. Her number is included on the card. The front desk is also staffed twenty four hours if you have any needs or concerns.”

  His grin is boyish and cute. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  “I’ll let you get settled in then. Welcome to Foxhaven.”

  After checking that the band is happy with their room and that everything is under control, I decide to call it a day. I could use a nice hot bath before I meet Holt.

  It’s a warm night and I decide to head to the gazebo a little early to give myself some time alone to think. I’ve been reconsidering the path I want to take when it comes to Foxhaven. Dad wanted to make it more elite, cater to the higher income guests and celebrities, but I’m not sure that’s the direction to take anymore.

  There are so many lovely families who stay with us every year, who have helped us build this place from the beginning with their loyalty, and I don’t want to push them out for more money. It’s not even a matter of not having the space to cater to both. If you’re trying to get a nice peaceful week on the lake with your family, the last thing you want to have to deal with is a crowd of paparazzi and fans every time you try to come and go. We’ll lose our regular guests if it keeps up this way.

  I’m not making any major changes until I have some time to think about it, but for now, I’ll be choosy when it comes to what celebrities stay with us. No more known troublemakers or trashy reality stars.

  The smooth sound of an acoustic guitar reverberates through the forest when I near the gazebo, and I smile at the thought of hearing Holt play. He carries that guitar everywhere, but I’ve only heard him play the one time on the beach.

  When I step out of the woods, I pause for a second. It’s not Holt I heard playing. Liam sits on the steps of the gazebo, his forehead crinkled as he plays a few chords, frowns, and repeats them.

  He’s obviously working, and I don’t want to interrupt. My plan is to text Holt and have him meet me somewhere else, but Liam calls out before I can retreat. “Hi Kinley.”

  “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  He beams at me. “You didn’t. I’m just working on a few things. This is a beautiful place. Kind of secluded.”

  Yeah, that’s why I had sex on that bench right behind you. That’s the thought that pops into my head, but at least it doesn’t leave my mouth. “I’m glad you like it. I’m just waiting on someone, but I can have him meet me by the dock.”

  “Don’t be silly,” he calls when I turn to head back down the path. “Wait with me. I could use a fresh perspective.” He pats the step beside him.

  I don’t want to be rude, so I oblige, taking a seat. “I have to admit, I’m not big on country music, so I’m probably not the person to ask.”

  He grins down at me. “You don’t like country?”

  “Not really. My dad used to listen to it, but it wasn’t my thing. I don’t find a tractor sexy,” I tease, and he bursts out laughing.

  “I promise I don’t sing about tractors. Or my dog, or truck, or ex wife. I don’t have lyrics for this yet anyway. I’m not a songwriter. Just putting some chords together.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  I lean back on the palms of my hands and watch the sky gradually lose its light as he plays. It’s nice and relaxing. Maybe I would like some of his music. The combination of the warm evening air and the soothing music relaxes me and puts a small smile on my face. A smile that dissolves quickly when I look up and notice Holt glaring at me.

  I never heard him coming and I wonder how long he’s been standing there. And why is he looking at me like that?

  “Holt.” I get to my feet and brush off the back of my shorts. “Have you met Liam?”

  Liam doesn’t get up or set the guitar aside, but sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Liam Carter.”

  “Marcus Singleton,” Holt replies. His voice is tense, and I notice he didn’t ask him to use his middle name the way he did with me and my friends.

  “Are you ready, bug?” He slings an arm around my shoulders in a clearly possessive move.

  “Sure.” I turn to Liam. “I liked your playing. If there’s no tractors involved, I’d definitely give it a listen.”

  Chuckling, he nods at me. “Always glad to have another listener.”

  Holt starts toward the path, taking me with him since his arm has moved from my shoulders to my waist. A minute or so passes without a word. “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  “Nope.” He keeps walking, then takes a deep breath. “I love watching some other asshole play for you in our gazebo. Makes my fucking day.”

  Is he kidding me right now?

  I stop, and he turns to face me, his frown outlined in moonlight. “Are you serious? He was there when I showed up and asked me to listen while I waited on you. I can’t help that he found the gazebo as well.”

  The way his lips press together and his chest rises and falls betrays his anger and attempt to get it under control. Finally, he takes a step back. “Tonight wasn’t a good idea. I’m in a shitty mood. I’ll see you later,” he says, and stalks off, leaving me gaping after him. What the hell was that?

  I’ve always heard that musicians were moody and unpredictable, but after all the bullshit I’ve put up with, including finding a half naked woman in his bed, he has the nerve to get jealous?

  I’m tempted to chase after him and insist he talk to me, but I know that will just cause an argument and make things worse. Instead, I walk down to the shore and sit in the grass. The fading sun throws a swirl of oranges and reds across the rippling water, and I think back to all the times I sat out here with Dad, talking about plans for Foxhaven.

  It occurs to me that we never talked about a lot of other things that we should have, and I suppose he thought the same as I did. We had time. We never talked about my future other than what he expected of me when it came to our business. I’m proud that he trusted me enough to leave me his life’s work, but I wish I’d gotten advice from him about so many other things. Like men.

  I don’t know what he would think of Holt. He probably wouldn’t like him. Hell, there are times like this when I don’t like him, but there’s something about him that draws me in and makes me care. Maybe too much.

  The feelings I’ve developed for him scare the shit out of me. I’ve only known him a couple of months, but I feel more for him than I did my ex that I dated for three years.

  My phone beeps with a text from Foster.

  Foster: I need a place to crash for a few days. Do you have any rooms open?

  Me: Nope, we’re booked, but you can take my guest room.

  Foster: You’re a life saver. Turning into Foxhaven now.

  A snort of laughter jumps out of me. He knew I wouldn’t say no. I may have a screwed up family situation and complicated relationships, but I know I’m fortunate to have great friends. They’d do anything for me and I’d do anything for them.

>   I shoot him a quick text letting him know where I am, and a few minutes later he sits beside me.

  “Hey Kin. Do you want to tell me why you’re sitting down here trying to get chigger bites on your no no places?”

  “After you tell me why you’re temporarily homeless.”

  Sighing, he leans back on his hands and stretches his long legs out in front of him. “Remember that guy I told you I met last week?”

  “The tennis player?”

  “No, that was the week before. The dental hygienist.” Foster is a wonderful guy, but a bit of a man whore.

  “Right.”

  “Turns out he’s not all that hygienic.”

  Crossing my legs, I sit up. “Foster, if this is about him having stinky genitals or an STD…”

  He bursts out laughing. “No, well, you aren’t far off on the funky balls, but he also has a house full of bedbugs, and spread them to my apartment.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah, they’re spraying and hooking up heaters and all kinds of stuff, but it’ll be a few days at least before I can get back in.”

  The look I give him makes him laugh. “I took my clothes to a laundromat, washed and dried them on hot, including the ones I’m wearing. Then I bug bombed my car and took a taxi here.”

  “No offense. But bedbugs are the coming of an apocalypse to a hotel.”

  “I know. I’m clean as a whistle. Now, do you want to tell me why you look all pouty?”

  I shove him. “I don’t look pouty.” He remains silent for a few moments until I add, “Holt and I had a fight…sort of…I don’t know.”

  “What happened?”

  Foster listens to my explanation, and his lips grow into a smirk. “He got jealous. You really have your hooks into this guy, Kin.”

  “Not everyone considers jealousy a virtue.” My eye roll doesn’t deter him.

  Shrugging, he stands up. “Let’s walk. I didn’t escape one infestation to get eaten alive by chiggers and mosquitos.”