Beautiful Deception (Lake Loveless Book 4)

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Beautiful Deception (Lake Loveless Book 4) Page 13

by Addison Moore

Neva and Brylee come up behind her, and it takes less than three seconds for their jaws to come unhinged as they gasp for air.

  “Oh my shit,” Neva spits it out as she leans in for a better look. No one will ever accuse Neva of being an idiot. “Does Abel know you’re flaunting these?”

  “Forget about that.” Brylee shoves her out of the way to scope them out better herself. “My, my, now the entire world will know what the two of you have been doing at the boathouse.” She flips her golden hair and sheds that signature grin of hers. “I know when I’ve been bested, and you’ve done it like a pro. Congratulations, Zoey. You win. I’d say you were lucky, but I think it’s Abel who’s the lucky one. If he even thinks about breaking your heart, you let me at him first.” She rings her arm around my neck and pulls me in. Brylee Peters is the one person on the lake who you either love or hate, who either loves or hates you. But once you have her on your side, you have a friend for life.

  “What’s this?” We turn to find Reese traipsing over in a pair of nude kitten heels. Her hair is swept up, and she’s wearing a long denim dress that hugs her curves just enough to let you know there’s a woman beneath all that fabric. Reese has always been the queen bee of Loveless. No matter how hard Kennedy tries, her stepsister usurps her without even trying. Reese squints in at the menagerie of sketches, and her face contorts into all sorts of interesting shapes. “Oh my God!” she hacks out the words as if the mountain was on fire before turning around and covering her eyes. “I can never unsee that! Are you guys for real? I thought this was a family friendly auction!”

  “Well, it’s not.” Kennedy is quick to come to my defense. “But I’m covering these up until six o’clock sharp. They shan’t be viewed by the prying public until that very moment. I’ll have this section supervised in the event little eyes try to make their way over. Don’t you worry. Abel’s foot-long secret is safe until then.” She gives a quick wink my way. “Speaking of which…” Kennedy pulls a curl from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Is it true? Are the two of you Facebook official? Or did this whole let-me-sketch-you-naked thing lead to platonic grounds? If so, you’re doing it wrong.”

  “Funny.” I make a face as I scan the crowd in the event Abel is the next to crop up in our growing circle. “I don’t know. I mean, I think we’re official. It’s just not the kind of thing we talk about.” I bite down hard on my lip as my emotions begin to cloud me. “I guess I don’t know how to approach it. Honestly, it seems juvenile to even bring it up. I guess we’re together. I wouldn’t make a banner and hire a small aircraft to drag it over the lake, but yeah, there’s no one else, so we must be.”

  Neva’s left eye comes just shy of winking. She rings those damn peepers of hers in enough kohl to make a raccoon jealous, but they always betray her feelings, and something I said has her unsettled. Brylee and Reese take off looking at the other items up for auction, and Kennedy takes off shouting at one of the food truck drivers over a plate of chicken tacos she wanted to sample an hour ago.

  “Kennedy really enjoys crushing balls,” I muse to Neva. “I almost feel sorry for Caleb.”

  “Don’t.” She pulls a pick out of her purse and teases that ebony-colored beehive of hers into the sky. She’s got on a bright red retro-inspired dress lined with white piping that looks as if it came straight out of a thrift store, and she’s tucked a giant red poppy made of felt next to her ear to finish off the fifties look. “That boy knows what he’s gotten himself into. Does yours?” Her pale eyes snag over mine. There’s generally a soulfulness about Neva in general, but at this moment it’s wiped clear off the table, and all that’s left is her caustic edge. “Have you told him yet? About Jamie? Does he know what Holder did to you? How it ended and why?”

  I pull her close with a hard yank. “Would you shush? And would you not wear so much makeup? You look like a Goth Bratz doll. It’s terrifying.”

  She growls out a laugh. “And you’re avoiding the question. Did you tell him?”

  I give another paranoid glance at the vicinity. “No, I didn’t tell him. It’s not exactly a sexy bedtime story. Besides, it’s too painful, too raw.” I glance to the deep end of the lake, dark as my heart. “I’m not even sure it’s important anymore.”

  Neva lands her cool hand over my forehead as if checking for a fever. “Oh, honey, you are rife with delusions if you believe that it didn’t matter. That kind of stuff only festers until you lance it. You need to get it all out, wash it clean to make sure it doesn’t come back.”

  “And if I don’t?” My gaze falls to Abel’s face as Kennedy comes by with her minions, and they cover up the sketches one by one with a plain white cloth.

  “It slowly chokes out everything good in your life.” Neva leans in with that haunted expression of hers, a fresh swath of gray lipstick brushed over her lips. “You need to tell Abel everything if you want the two of you to survive. And if you’re smart, you’ll tell him tonight.”

  She takes off, and my gaze falls over the lake as the sun dazzles over the waters one last time as it takes its final bow. Telling Abel feels tantamount to signing our death certificate. What is a man like Abel going to do with all of my baggage? I’m betting he’ll drop me off at the next emotional bus stop.

  One whisper of the truth will burn us down to cinder, and yet I’ve got the distinct feeling we’re headed that way anyhow. The truth is a match. We’re already standing in a puddle of gasoline. It’s just a matter of time before Abel and I burn.

  Evening falls hard over Loveless, the sun replaced with a million twinkle lights roped high over the benefit like a canopy of artificial stars, daringly beautiful, inspiring and elegant. The army of evergreens that grace this mountain perfume the night air with their crisp pine scent as if vying for our attention. Throngs of people have shown up for the event, some from neighboring towns, some from down the mountain. All of Kennedy’s old sorority sisters are here, an entire sea of her beautiful friends, and I feel far more insecure than I have in ages. Abel is yet to materialize. He texted and let me know he’d be late. He was helping Caleb drive their mother up here, and I can hardly wait to meet her.

  The scent of the food trucks has the entire lake lusting after all of their delectable offerings, but I’ve been gravitating toward the sushi chefs myself. A live band plays from a platform constructed at the foot of the lake, belting out old eighties’ cover songs, Kennedy’s personal favorite, and judging by all the swaying bodies on the sand, it’s a hit with everyone else, too.

  “Zoey!” Demi waves spastically as she and Gavin make their way over. Her hair is blowing back like a lemon-colored flame, and she’s donned a white sheath large enough to fit a small country in, and it isn’t until the breeze contours her dress to her body that I see the real need for it. Demi’s belly bulges round as a beach ball, and it cuts the oxygen off in my lungs for a moment. “You look stunning! Red really is your color!” She does her best to give me a quick embrace as her hard belly grazes over my side. I can feel her there, heavy and full of life, and a bite of tears stings under my lids. “Can you believe that all of the money earned here tonight will benefit Tuesday’s Child?” Tears glint in her eyes as she says it. Demi went through hell herself, so I know that charity is close to her heart—hell, it is her heart.

  “And Winter Haven,” Gavin adds. “We need to let everyone know that volunteers are always welcome. It’s a great place to get lost while helping someone else.”

  Demi nods. “It really does help you forget about all your troubles.” She looks to me with an impish grin. “So, where’s Abel?” She pulls back with a naughty gleam in her eyes. “Rumor has it, I should bring a fire extinguisher with me to see those sketches you did.”

  Gavin groans, “And rumor has it, I shouldn’t be anywhere near them.”

  “Both rumors are correct as fate would have it.” I wince at my brother as I hug him. “Please stay away or I’ll never look you in the eye again.”

  “I don’t need to see them to know they’re unreal. An
d just for the record, if Abel ends up with a broken nose tonight, it was me who did it. At least I’m honest about it. Where is he, anyway?”

  “He and Caleb picked up his mother.” A nervous laugh bubbles from me when I say it. “My God, how will I look that woman in the eye?”

  Demi laughs herself into hysterics. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady.”

  A warm hand covers my arm, the heavy scent of that familiar cologne, and I turn around and gasp. Abel McCarthy has always had the power to take my breath away, but on a night like tonight, when he’s licked himself clean and dressed to the nines, sadly it only exemplifies how unworthy I really am of this otherworldly being. Abel is hauntingly stunning. His dark hair gleams under the lights, eyes that shine like flames, fresh shaven, scruff neatly trimmed, and yet still devastatingly sexy as hell. And don’t even get me started on that suit. I’m going to take him just like this when we get back to the boathouse. I want him dressed, or at least partially so.

  “You’re here,” I breathe.

  “And you”—he pulls back as his eyes sweep over me—“holy hell.”

  Gavin clears his throat, and we look up with a laugh. “Dude, you want to live, right?” He slaps Abel’s hand in a sort of manly shake that comes with a slight threat. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking at your nudes.”

  “I am.” Demi gives a quick wink. “In fact, I see Reese and Kennedy there now. I think I’ll need them to cool me down while I sneak a peek.”

  “Don’t look too hard!” Gavin shouts after her as the music slows down a few notches. He points at Abel. “I’m grabbing a beer, and if you’re smart, you’ll ask my sister to dance.” He stares Abel down a moment. “You will not break her heart.” His voice hitches as he says it, and it wrenches me, makes my bones ache with how visceral he is about this. If he only knew what my heart has been through.

  “I’m so embarrassed.” I shake my head, unable to look this handsome man in the eye.

  “Don’t be.” Abel glides his finger down the side of my cheek until it settles under my chin, lifting me gently until I’m looking at him. “Dance with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  My lips twist, unwilling to yield to that all-out grin wanting to break loose over my face. Abel takes me by the hand as we hit the edge of the dance floor built over the sand. He holds my hand while his left arm wraps around my waist, and we sway gently to the music. That magnetic gaze of his, that heady cologne, Abel McCarthy has managed to inebriate me without a single drop of liquor ever hitting my lips. I think I found the cure to all of my troubles, a new crutch, a better one, something far more satisfying.

  “You are resplendent,” I say without hesitating.

  “Resplendent?” He takes a mock bow. “And you, my love, are dangerously ravishing.” He leans in and sniffs just under my ear. “Remind me to ravish you with my tongue in about an hour.”

  A dark laugh strums from me. “I think we’re going to do a little role playing when I get you alone. Big bad lawyer meets poor little call girl who can’t pay her bills.”

  His chest rumbles with approval. “We’ll have to get creative with your payment method. I have a few ideas reserved just for you.”

  “You are a dirty, dirty boy.” I pull back, pinning down my lip with my teeth. I’m so thrilled to be in this man’s arms, in front of God and the masses and then a thought occurs to me. “Oh my goodness, is your mother here?”

  He grimaces at the mention of her. “Did we have to bring up my mother?” he teases. “Yes, she’s here. She’s somewhere out there with Caleb. I’ve charged him with keeping her from my nude pictorials.”

  I give a little shrug. “Kennedy seems to think you got the long end of the McCarthy stick.”

  He lets out a howl of a laugh.

  “I wouldn’t tell your brother, though.”

  “I’m not saying a word.” The music picks up pace as the band wails a familiar tune I’ve heard a thousand times before, and every sorority girl on the mountain shrieks with glee as they storm the dance floor en masse. “You ready to meet my mother?”

  “I’d much rather meet your mother than get trampled by an army of stilettos.”

  We head up toward the thick of the benefit as Abel navigates us through the tangle of bodies. The feel of his hand clamped over mine is electric. This is it, our foray into public opinion, our unofficial official announcement to the who’s who of Loveless. Abel and I are together regardless of whether or not we discussed this. His fingers threaded through mine is a proclamation of everything I had hoped we’d become but was too afraid to admit even to myself—especially to myself.

  I spot Caleb and Kennedy up by the bar speaking with an older woman, gray hair, slightly slumped, dressed elegantly in a sparkling copper and black sequin top, paired with inky slacks.

  “Is that your mother?” I’m so delighted to meet her, my insides swell with joy. I can’t help but wonder what my own mother would have looked like right now. Probably a variation on a theme, and it makes me adore this woman all that much more.

  Abel drops my hand like a stone. His gaze is set to the left, the opposite direction entirely. He glances over to the three of them briefly. “That’s her.” He gives me a firm squeeze, pointing me in their direction. “Go on up. I’ll be there in a sec.” He’s lost in the crowd before I can protest, and my heart gives a few unnatural thuds. Abel must really be embarrassed about those pictures. How foolish of me to think he’d be fine with them. And my God, I have to face his mother of all people? Oh Lord, a lightning bolt hurled in my direction might actually be welcomed right about now.

  “Here she is!” Kennedy welcomes me into their small circle with a wave. Kennedy dazzles in a black sheath dress, a gold choker her only accessory. I’ve always felt I’ve tried too hard at these events as evidenced by the siren red dress that clings to every curve, matching patent stilettos. They say you can’t buy class, and I doubt I’d have the money to even if I could. I’m fine with it. What I’m not fine with is looking this sweet woman who birthed Abel in the eyes.

  “So you’re the saucy vixen who took a pencil to my baby boy.” She hoots to the sky and instantly I like her. “That boy was redder than a turnip when he let me in on your dirty little secret.” She slaps her thigh like it was the funniest thing.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think Caleb was blushing, too. “Mom, this is Zoey Jackson—a fine artist in her own right, despite the fact she allowed her career to run away with that circus rat you birthed.” He gives a subtle wink my way. “Where is the man of the hour, anyway?” He cranes his neck past me to no avail.

  “He said he’d be here in a sec.” I’m quick to shake his mother’s hand.

  “Martha McCarthy. I haven’t been up here in years. Of course, it’s my ex’s territory. His brother and nuisance of a family have resided here for years.”

  “Mother.” Caleb tips his head back and grunts at the dig, but Kennedy and I can’t help but laugh. It’s true. Warren McCarthy is the nuisance in question, and she pegged him correctly. He used to be engaged to Reese until he wasn’t, and then he tried to force himself on her—at least that’s what Neva told me. I wasn’t around that summer. It was a mess, and I’m glad it’s over. Reese and Ace are happy. Gavin and Demi are happy. Caleb and Kennedy are happy. I like happy. I want to be happy, too, although, at the moment, my hand feels a bit empty.

  “I’m delighted to meet you.” His mother leans in. “It’s been hard for Abel, you know.” Her nose wrinkles as she frowns.

  I’m sure she’s talking about all the time he’s taken from work. I’m sure to the world it looks as if he’s run away from reality, but if anyone understands the importance of stealing a moment to center yourself, it’s me. I’ll be the last person to judge Abel.

  “He’s making do up here,” I assure her. “He’s quite the charmer. I should know. He’s been charming me for months.”

  She blinks back as if I struck her. “Pardon?”

  Caleb’s eyes
grow wide. “I think I see my uncle headed this way to say hello. If I were you girls, I’d ditch us right about now.”

  Kennedy doesn’t hesitate, threading her arm through mine and leading us down to the sand.

  “What was that about?” I try to glance back at Abel’s mother, but Kennedy is driving us straight down to the water.

  “Who the hell knows. She’s been closeted up in that house of hers twenty-four seven. She hardly knows what year it is.”

  A blonde with a martini glass comes barreling over. “Kenny!” she shouts, laughing and snorting as if she’s had one too many of the libations currently nesting in the crook of her hand. “This is our song!”

  “Jessie’s Girl” blares over the speakers, and Kennedy belts out a raucous scream. “I’ll be right back!” she shouts before letting the blonde yank her over to the dance floor, where an entire herd of Kennedy lookalikes lose their heels and their shit while grinding to the music.

  The lapping of the lake lures me along its outskirts away from the party and I kick off my own heels, relaxing my feet into the cool damp sand below. It feels like heaven. My God, why do women torture themselves with heels, anyway? I know firsthand Abel loves my feet just the way they are. He’s nibbled on them enough to assure me of this. A silly grin sits over my face, and I can’t shake it, don’t want to.

  I stray past the masses until the music, the laughter fades in the background like a dream. In its place is the sound of discourse, a man and woman having it out just beyond a wiry century old oak that settled just above the beach long before the wealthy residents ever did.

  “And I’m not telling you to leave,” he thunders, and something about that familiar tone sends a chill up my spine.

  “Fine then. I’ll stay. I can’t wait to meet your whore.” Her voice is caustic and cruel.

  My feet carry me in that direction, even though it’s the last place I want to be. The familiar frame of a man, that suit I had my arms wrapped around just a half an hour ago, stands just a few yards from me. They’re whispering now, lower hushed tones, indiscernible words not meant for prying ears. I step around the trunk ever so slowly to get a look at the woman in question. Auburn hair twisted in a chignon, matching lipstick, little black dress punctuated by an elegant strand of pearls. They glow white like stars draped around her neck and accentuate her startling beauty.

 

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