Beautiful Deception

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Beautiful Deception Page 7

by Addison Moore


  “Did you survive?” a deep voice rumbles just before he delivers a swift kick to my thigh. I roll onto my back, only to find my brother kindly blocking the sun from my eyes. He’s head-to-toe in an Italian suit, shoes, and most likely that expensive cologne emanating from him, too.

  “Just barely.” I hike up on my elbows, and he takes a seat next to me, sand be damned. That’s typical Caleb. There are rules and general good ideas, and he tosses them both to the wind to make sure he gets what he needs out of life, and right now that’s a good sit-down with his brother. “Got a hot date in court?”

  “And after, I’m meeting Kennedy down the hill for dinner.”

  Ace pulls up and hops out of his scull with the ease of a ballerina. He tosses his ride into the nearest patch of bull grass and plants himself right next to me. “Good show, man.” He slaps me.

  “I think we both know who put on the good show, and it wasn’t me.”

  Caleb chuckles at the thought. “Are you kidding? You made half the lake laugh before breakfast. You’re undervaluing your worth in entertainment.”

  “That, I’ll agree with.”

  “Speaking of entertainment.” My brother nods to the two of us. “I’ve got tickets to Colony Hall to see the Bitter Hearts next Saturday. Kennedy would love to have Reese join us.” He taunted Ace with the offer. “You in?”

  The Bitter Hearts are an old ’80s band that you can’t go a week without hearing on the radio. They were huge back in the day and well after that, too.

  “We’re in.” Ace reaches over and offers Caleb a knuckle bump.

  “And you?” Caleb digs that gaze of his into my own. He’s speaking, silently telling me something with those familiar eyes. Ever since we were kids, I’ve always had that strange sensation that my mirrored self had gotten loose and was running around. Then Solomon morphed into his own being, a thug mostly, but Caleb and I kept up the mirrored twin routine. “Brylee would love to have you.”

  “I’m in.” I mock sock my brother on the arm. “But I’m not taking Brylee. I’ll take Zoey.”

  Ace and my brother exchange a quick glance.

  “It’s fine,” I’m quick to assure them as the breeze picks up and licks the water right off my chest. “We’re just friends. I plan on taking her out, showing her what it means to have someone treat you right. She’s nursing an open wound. She needs to see that it doesn’t always have to be that way.”

  Caleb shakes his head ever so slightly. “What doesn’t have to be that way, Abel?”

  My muscles tense when he says my name. It’s the same line of thought when your mother invokes your middle name, a change of affect, a strict tone that lets you know they are not pleased.

  “Dealing with people.” There. I almost want to pat myself on the back for not invoking the word relationship or God forbid love in front of my brother. And now I’m not sure why. “Relationships, love.” I shrug off my own mini rebellion and bleed a dark grin at the poppy-colored sun.

  “Back up.” Ace lets out a hard sigh. “You’re biting off more than you can chew, man. She’s a handful. I should know. I’ve had front row seats to the show for years. Gavin has done his best, and his best has landed Zoey from wild to worst. I wouldn’t go setting yourself up for failure.”

  Something in my chest cinches just listening to him paint a bleak picture. I’m sure all of Zoey’s life people have relegated her to the wild, out of control, hopeless as hell rack, and now I’m more determined than ever to pull her right off it.

  “What he said.” Caleb shakes his head as if he’s not allowing this to happen, and I almost want to laugh. A part of me wishes to God he didn’t allow Elizabeth and me to happen. Now that would have been helpful. But nobody in their right mind would protest that union because Elizabeth and I made sense to the world. What we didn’t make was a whole lot of good decisions in reality.

  “I’m bringing Zoey.” It comes out quieter this time, with a lot less fight.

  Ace gets up and dusts the sand off his legs. “I’ll do you a favor and won’t mention anything you just said to Gavin. I’d tell you to go easy on Zoey, but I’m hoping she’ll go easy on you. Let’s do it again in the morning, dude. School’s out. Reese and I are up for the summer.” He tosses us the peace sign before taking off.

  I stare out at the dark lake as the sky blossoms a heavy hue of cobalt above it. The trees fan out in the distance a rich hunter green, and the air smells sweet of honeysuckle.

  “God, I missed Loveless, and I didn’t even realize how much,” I take in a lungful of sweet morning air. “What’s better than letting loose with nature? Why did we ever think law was a good idea?”

  “That’s because we have to do everything together.” Caleb chuckles at the thought.

  I fall back on my elbows, my gaze still locked up on the smooth, glassy water. “You never did like me, did you?”

  “Was that a requirement?”

  I’ve always felt a slight resentment from my little brother and was never sure why.

  “You’re the golden child,” he says it low, like a confession, and I can’t help but bark out a laugh.

  “So that’s the story. Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m not feeling so golden at the moment, princess. How’s Dad, anyway?” It’s true. My father coddled, prodded, and molded me into his likeness. I was his very first project, and failure simply wasn’t an option.

  “Asking about you. Mom is, too, by the way. Call her. Don’t be an asshole.”

  “Her birthday is in a few weeks. We should bring her up.”

  “I’d think she’d like that. You think she’d be okay sleeping between you and Zoey in that tiny little cabin?”

  I kick his Italian leather shoe for the quip. “We’re not sleeping together, dude. And it’s not happening. I’m still—”

  “Nursing an open wound of your own?”

  “Something like that.”

  “It’s done, Abel.” He leans in and demands I look at him—this well-groomed, far saner version of myself. “It’s over. She’s moved on. And whether you realize it or not, so have you.”

  “How is she?” I glance back at the lake. It’s hypnotizing me into a comfortable numbness, and I like it. As much as I wanted to come here to forget Elizabeth, all I seem to do is rehash every minute we shared over the last few years, trying to pin down that one moment where everything went wrong. It went horribly wrong, but there’s something about this lake. This place that makes it feel okay on some level.

  “She’s good.”

  “You see him around?” I try not to think in proper pronouns when that asswipe is involved. The less I think about him, about them, their new life, the better.

  “Yeah. He’s around. He’s asked about you a lot. He cares.”

  “Oh, I know he cares. He cares that I don’t find a way to have his license revoked. He cares that I don’t find some magnificent loophole and throw some life-changing lawsuit his way. But mostly, he cares what I think of him because that is what his ego demands. It demands that I still like him. That I find him a good guy, and hell, if I tuck my tail between my legs and run back now, he might even make room for me in the wedding party.”

  Caleb lets out a chuckle. “You always were the one with a great imagination. How’s that book coming?”

  “It’s not.”

  “It will.” He slaps me over the arm before helping me to my feet. “Go write a chapter, swim in the lake, head for the falls. Hell, jack off—just don’t think of her. Think of someone else, and not Zoey. For God’s sake, don’t fixate on Zoey. Then get the hell in your right mind and get back to the law firm. Dad and I miss the shit out of you.”

  “You can’t miss me. You see me every damn day.”

  “Just because I’m seeing you doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.” He jogs backward on his way back to his place. “Meditate on that one while I’m gone!”

  “I will.” I frown back at the lake. “Right after I take your advice.” I head back to the boathouse and take
a nice, long shower, finding my center, begging for my heart to give me one ounce of peace. I wrap my hand around myself and start taking care of business. Elizabeth bounces through my mind, and I bounce her right back out. Zoey comes to mind with those long stems she calls legs, those pouty lips, that body she doesn’t bother hiding. I take myself right where I need to be, but it’s Zoey that gets me there.

  I thought about Zoey. Hell, I can’t seem to evict her from my mind. Caleb doesn’t want me to fixate on Zoey, but I can’t seem to stop. Nope, I never was good at taking Caleb’s advice. Zoey has the attention of both my mind and my body. I just pray she doesn’t get ahold of my heart. It’s not up for grabs anymore. It died back in Collingsworth, and I buried it deep under the lake with its proper name, Loveless.

  As soon as evening arrives, I head over to my neighbor’s boathouse and give a careful knock. I’m coming in hot with flowers—a grower’s bunch of daisies that I picked up at The Corner Store. It’s a romantic gesture, and Zoey deserves to be romanced. She deserves every small and large act of kindness and everything in between.

  Zoey opens the door, and for a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t formulate a thought, and for sure I can’t say a single word.

  Zoey stands before me in a red dress that I’m pretty sure is against the law in fifty out of fifty states. Her body is perfection, smooth and luscious in all the right places. Mouthwatering to be exact, and it makes me wonder about the sanity of the idiot that let her go. Zoey is a pin-up girl, a supermodel, a prom queen—every accolade a body like hers deserves all rolled into one. Her golden legs, her svelte arms with just the right amount of sinewy muscle, her skin glows against the dark mouth of the boathouse like a paper lantern. Her creamy vanilla hair swings over her shoulders in waves, and I’m tempted to sink my fingers through it. But Zoey’s gorgeous face, those tempting ruby red lips, those large eyes that bat their long feathery wings at me—Zoey is a creature all her own. Venus in the flesh. The girl next door and a vixen all in one package.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” She steps out and locks up before I can properly greet her. Zoey tries to make a break for the car, but I step in front of her, sending her crashing to my chest. Neither of us moves as she glances up, shy from under her lashes.

  “You look beautiful. I take that back. Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe how amazing you look tonight.”

  Her eyes latch onto mine and widen with a look of fury mixed with pain as if the only words she heard were I take that back.

  Zoey smirks at the idea. “You’re laying it on awful thick, aren’t you?”

  “I only speak the truth.” I pull the flowers up and present them to her like a prize. I haven’t been this sheepish, this boyish since about senior year, high school. “These are for you.”

  “Oh.” That tough girl façade crumbles as she takes them and buries her nose in a bright yellow flower. “I love these. How did you know I love daisies?”

  “You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” I can’t help but give a cheesy grin as I toss her words right back at her.

  “You think you’re funny.” She leans up on her tiptoes and dots my cheek with a kiss. “That’s what you get for coming at me like a teenager doing his best to get laid.” Her left brow hooks high into her forehead. “It’s working, by the way.”

  Getting laid isn’t on my list, but my body isn’t quite taking it off the table either.

  “That’s not what tonight is about,” I whisper into her hair. “Tonight is about demonstrating to you how a gentleman treats a lady.”

  Her body presses tight against mine with her stomach grinding against my crotch as if proving her point, and I back off a foot, extending my hand to hers.

  “Shall we?”

  “We shall.”

  I drive the two of us down the dark, dusty roads of Loveless, down the main highway that wraps around the lake until we hit the harbor. The Blue Crab valet takes the car from us as we head inside the upscale establishment with its dark air of mystery, the candles winking in and out, casting the shadow of romance over the establishment. I thread my arm through Zoey’s as the waitress leads us to a table outdoors with a view of the lake. Instrumental soft rock pulls from the speakers, just loud enough to shelter the conversations going on around us.

  “Where it all began,” she teases as she leans in close. It’s nice having her, feeling her body pressed to mine, and something about that doesn’t settle well with me.

  We put in our orders and sip white wine as I try my best to get to know her better. Each one of my questions as milquetoast as the last. In no way do I want to bring up her past. I’m not pouring salt into the wound. I’m suturing it as crudely and best as I can.

  “My turn.” Zoey’s eyes sparkle like champagne. Her entire face lights up the night sky, mesmerizing me. “But first, thank you for being so gentle with me.” Her cheeks deepen with color. “Not once have I ever had a man take the time to get to know me.” She shakes her head at the idea, blinking back tears. “And strangely, it feels as if I’ve known you my whole life.”

  I nod into the idea. It’s true. There is a familiarity about Zoey, something more than our Loveless connection, and perhaps it’s our ironic loveless connection that might just have welded our lives together from the start.

  “I feel the same.” I reach over and take up her hand without hesitating. “You feel like family.” There. As much as my body wants to give her the green light, my mind very much wants to convey the fact this is simply a demonstration, a simulation of what a real date should be like. I stare down at our intertwined fingers and startle back to life before carefully withdrawing my hand.

  “Hey, I liked that.” She clamps over my fingers once again. “Besides, I don’t remember holding hands with anyone before. Not outside of a bedroom anyway.” A look of mild disgust rolls over her face. “But like I said, it’s my turn to ask the questions.” Her eyes bear into mine as if she just put out a warning. Something tells me her line of interrogation will be anything but milquetoast. “When do you think it all went wrong for you?”

  Crap. “I don’t want to go there. Elizabeth isn’t invited to dinner.” I offer a tight smile and wink. But as playful as I meant for that to be, I can’t help but feel as if I’ve just summoned a devil by saying her name out loud. It echoes in my mind far too long after I’ve spoken it, and I’d love nothing more than to bottle it up and throw it into the deepest part of that lake.

  “Not her.” Zoey’s brows furrow as if I’ve just fouled up the air. “With you. You know, it’s never a relationship that kills us. It’s the expectations we had. Don’t you think so?”

  My heart stops for a moment. This beautiful woman has just stunned me with her mind.

  “I agree. When did it start with you?” But she’s forgetting who she’s dealing with. I’m a master at deflecting a line of questioning. It’s what I do for a living—did do.

  “When my parents died.” Her gaze drifts into the blackest part of the forest behind me. Zoey takes a breath as if readying for what comes next. “I was a daddy’s girl. I was in love with my mother, too, but my dad called me his princess. I was so special to him. I think it would kill him all over again to see what’s become of me.” A single tear rolls down her cheek, a falling star seeded with her misery, and I reach over and catch it, press it to her lips, and she gives a little laugh.

  “That’s not true, Zoey, and you know it. He loved you unconditionally. He would be proud of you. He would encourage you to continue doing what you love. He would want you to go on with your life, be that school or work, whatever makes you happy. He might even want to kick your brother’s ass a bit for not being there for you.” I come to an abrupt stop, unsure of why I ever let those last few words from my mouth.

  Zoey startles and blinks over at me as if I’ve just sprouted a third eye. “You know, I guess in a way you’re right—about how my dad would feel. I know both he and my mom would want me to be happy, to kick myself back into gear. Bu
t you’re wrong about Gavin. He tries his best, but I keep pushing him off.” She wipes down her face, slicked with silent tears. “I’ve never been a fan of dragging him into my misery.”

  “Did the two of you ever share your pain after your parents’ passing? Did you go to counseling? Who was in charge?”

  “Gavin was in charge. He went straight into parent mode, and no, we never cried too much after they were gone. We were all we had, and we wanted to survive. Gavin dove right into the lumber business. He’s helped with my financial needs at Port, with what my scholarship doesn’t cover. There’s no way I would burden him with my mess. And now he has a baby on the way. That hour of grieving my parents has long since passed. Gavin and I had to lick our wounds quickly. So how about you, Mister Powerful Attorney? Something must have turned you on your head long before Liz ground her high heel through your heart.” She bites down on the beginnings of a crooked smile as if she were shy to go there, and I find it endearing as hell.

  “My parents’ divorce.” I’m shocked at how easily the answer came. I search my mind for a time when Elizabeth and I ever discussed anything so deep and come up empty. My parents’ divorce was mentioned once in passing upon our first or second date and never again revisited, and here Zoey is knifing past all of my formidable layers and cutting to the quick of what’s molded me into the disaster I am today. “I guess it affected me more than I gave it credit. My mom and dad are about as opposite as opposites can be.”

  “Like you and me.” She gives a playful wink.

  “Not true. You and I are frighteningly alike. My parents are from different planets.” I leave my mother and her past as the clutter queen out of it for now. “But my dad has moved on. I think it was hard for me to see him with other women. I didn’t get why it stung so much when I was a kid, but in a way, it felt as if none of us were good enough for him. I wondered how long it would be before he found replacements for my brothers and me as well. Anyway, we survived.”

 

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