Duplicity (Jilted Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  “That was beautiful.”

  I set the guitar aside and lean back on the bench. “Such a tone of surprise.”

  She shrugs and pushes her hair out of her face. “I thought you played hard rock.”

  “Depends on my mood. What do you like?” I hold my hand up. “Wait, let me guess. Country.”

  Her nose scrunches. “No, not a fan. I like rock, just not the screaming kind. I’m more partial to folk rock or the bluesy stuff.” She’s describing my favorite genres to play and listen to, and has no idea. She takes a few more steps and sits on the bench across from me.

  A few moments of silence pass before she speaks again. “Clark told me what happened in the lobby today.”

  “That family is fucked up.” My head jerks up at her unexpected snort of laughter.

  “Have you ever seen the episode of South Park where Cartman goes on a talk show as an out of control teen? That’s what I see whenever she talks. Cartman saying, ‘I don’t care. I do what I want!’”

  It’s a perfect comparison. “You’re right. He even wore a halter top,” I agree, laughing along with her.

  She leans her head back against the wooden wall. “I mean that in the most professional way possible, of course.”

  “Is it important to you to be professional all the time? Because that seems incredibly boring.”

  The wind whips her hair around her head, and she pulls a hair tie from her wrist and gathers it into a ponytail. “It’s important to my business, and that’s important to me.” She gives me a pointed look. “It hasn’t been a struggle until recently.”

  Plastering on my most innocent expression, I lay my hand against my chest, and she laughs. Getting to her feet, she says, “Just try to stay out of trouble for a day or two.”

  I don’t want her to leave. I don’t know what it is about her or if I’m just lonely, but I’m happier when she’s near. “I know the perfect way to stay out of trouble. You should just spend time with me.”

  With one foot on the top step, she turns back to look at me. “I’m not going to babysit you.”

  A rumble of thunder gets me to my feet as well. I don’t want to get my guitar soaked. “No babysitting.” I run my hand through my hair. “Just hang out with me. I’m bored out of my fucking mind. I can’t leave without getting mobbed, my friends don’t live anywhere near here, and I haven’t even explored this place because I’d rather not drag security along with me everywhere.” I gesture to my surroundings. “Which is why I’m out here in the middle of the night.”

  “Can’t you grab one of your adoring fans to play with?”

  “No, I’d rather hang out with someone who is as thoroughly unimpressed with me as you are.”

  “That can’t be too hard to find. Not everyone worships you.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I can’t just—”

  “This could be considered one of those customer service deals,” I tease. “Making your guest happy and all that.”

  She crosses her arms. “Seriously, you want to play that card?”

  “We can play anything you want. As long as you don’t use that customer service voice with me. It’s awful.”

  A reluctant smile cracks her lips. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “No sleepovers,” I agree, adjusting my guitar on my back and descending the steps with her. “Sex is optional, but you’ll have to make the first move. I’m shy.”

  “No sex. I’ll hang out with you in the evenings after work and show you what the resort has to offer. I’ll be your…host.”

  I’m surprised she’s being so agreeable to this. We turn back onto the lighted path and head up to the back doors.

  “Host? I can live with that. We can work our way up to more.”

  I open the door and hold it for her to enter first, and she looks back, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Singleton.”

  “Holt,” I remind her. My gaze goes to her ass, and I admire the way it bounces as she walks away from me.

  My stay here is looking a lot more promising.

  Today has been a total waste. I’ve spent most of my studio time staring at the wall or playing around on my phone. I can’t concentrate. Restlessness and frustration finally force me to call it a day just after lunch, and I text Kinley.

  Me: Leaving work early today.

  Kinley: Okay

  That’s it. That’s all I get.

  Me: Your brochure mentions Jet Skis.

  Kinley: I’m aware.

  It’s like pulling teeth to get more than a few words from this woman.

  Me: So, let’s go. I’ll be there in twenty.

  Kinley: I’m working.

  Me: You’ll still be providing customer service.

  Not that I want her to think of hanging out with me as work, but I’m playing the cards I’ve been dealt.

  Kinley: I’ll meet you in the lobby.

  “What are you smiling about?” Vince asks as I step out of my office. He falls in step with me as we head out of the building.

  “Just cutting out early.”

  “Lucky asshole,” he grumbles. “I’m just getting his majesty his lunch. I have every intention of sneezing on it.”

  “More sibling rivalry?” I tease.

  “You should talk.”

  I wave to my driver as he pulls up, then turn back to Vince. “Want to trade?”

  Laughing, he heads over to the food truck. “Fuck no. See you later.”

  The drive back to Foxhaven is quick, and the lobby is nearly empty this time of day, so I manage to find my way up to my room without security like a normal human being. It’s a weekday, and even the crowd of paparazzi and fans has thinned a bit, so I’m hoping we won’t be noticed out on the lake.

  I don’t bother with a shirt since I’m too tan to worry about a sunburn. All I have to do is throw on a pair of shorts, slide my feet into my old sneakers, and I’m headed back down to the lobby to wait for Kinley.

  Turns out there’s no waiting required. As soon as I step out of the elevator, I see her standing at the front desk, chatting with Clark and another young man I don’t recognize. Before she notices me, I take a second to admire her out of her usual business attire. A pair of blue shorts end high on her shapely thighs, displaying her killer legs. Her tiny tank top ends just above the shorts, showing the tiniest sliver of bare stomach when she moves.

  Damn. Successful, beautiful, and a body no man could resist. How is this woman still single? It occurs to me that she may not be. I’ve never asked her. And since she sees this as a duty, not a date, she could very well be attached. Not that it matters. I’m not trying to get her into bed. Okay, so I wouldn’t pass on the opportunity, but mainly, I just want someone to hang out with while I’m here.

  Clark notices me ogling her and smirks, nudging her arm until she turns to look at me. We start toward each other and meet in the middle of the lobby floor. “I’ve reserved two jet skis. They’re waiting down by the dock for us.” She shifts the beach bag on her shoulder.

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask, mainly to break the awkwardness as we walk through the hall toward the rear exit.

  “Towels, sunscreen, water.” She shrugs and flashes a grin at me. “I see you came prepared.”

  “I have everything I need.” I pull my room keycard out of my pocket. “Want to put this in your bag so I don’t lose it on the water?”

  “Sure.” She tucks it in her bag.

  A young guy waits for us, flashing a nervous smile at Kinley when we approach. It probably has something to do with the fact that there’s only one jet ski bobbing in the water instead of two.

  “I reserved two, Lance,” she tells him.

  “Uh-yeah, I know, but there’s a problem with the engine on number four, and the others have all been reserved by guests. I didn’t think you’d want me to cancel one of them.”

  One side of her mouth curls inward and she sighs, “No, don’t cancel.”

  “You’ll just have to ride wit
h me,” I announce. “Don’t worry, I like to go fast.”

  There’s only a moment of hesitation before she shrugs and turns to Lance. “Will you put this inside the boathouse?” She pulls out some water, stores it in the jet ski, and hands him her beach bag. “Just toss it in the old red locker.”

  “Sure thing,” Lance agrees. “Have fun.”

  Kinley flashes a grin at me before leaping onto the jet ski. “I’m driving.”

  “Sneaky little brat,” I grumble, climbing on behind her. She tenses for a moment when my hands land on her sides. “Didn’t think this through, did you?”

  “Just keep your hands off my boobs, Holt.” She steers us out into the lake, increasing her speed as we get farther from the shore.

  It’s been a few years since I’ve done this, and I forgot just how much fun it can be. She’s braver than I expected, and we zip around, laughing and occasionally waving to the other boaters. A couple rides up on another jet ski, rented from her hotel judging by the number painted on the side, and the guy driving yells, “Race ya!”

  Kinley turns her head and asks, “Want to?”

  “Hell yeah, teach them a lesson.”

  They pull up a few feet away from us, and the man shouts “Go!”

  Kinley nearly throws both of us off the damn thing, and I wrap my arms around her thin middle. “If I hit the water, you’re coming with me!” I shout.

  We shoot out ahead of them, but they quickly gain on us, then pass us. “No fair. They have the best machine!” She laughs, slowing and waving at them as they drive away.

  “That was awful. You let us both down,” I tease, and she turns toward the shore.

  “Aw, I know you’re used to getting your way. I’ll make you a participation trophy when we get back.”

  She steers us down a narrow inlet and pulls up to a tiny dock that looks new. It’s kind of strange since there is nothing else around here and I can’t imagine the dock gets much use. We both step off the machine, and I look around.

  “If you brought me back here for a quickie, I’m totally on board.”

  Rolling her eyes at me, she secures the jet ski to the dock and grabs two bottles of water from a tiny storage area. “I just want to check on something. Come on.”

  She leads the way, and the sand turns to dirt under our feet. Just on the other side of the tree line, a clearing appears. In the center is a large log cabin in the process of being built.

  “Wow, who wants to live back here?”

  She throws a backward glance over her shoulder. “I do.” She gestures to her right. “I want an actual home so I can stop living in the hotel. It’s supposed to be finished this winter.”

  “Not exactly a social butterfly, are you?”

  Laughing, she steps inside the structure. “I’m more of an antisocial moth. It isn’t as isolated as it seems. There’s a road less than an eighth of a mile behind us, and they’ll connect a driveway to it.”

  “Well, whatever kind of bug you are,” I tease, grinning at her. “I’ll be joining you if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse.”

  She’s laughing, but I’m not. I don’t like the idea of her living here, alone in the woods, no matter how close to a road she is. I have to bite back the words because it’s none of my business what she does. I’ll be out of here in a few months, so I shouldn’t care.

  Too bad that doesn’t change the fact that I do.

  “It’s not like I’ll be living off grid in a bunker.”

  “Whatever you say, bug.”

  Chapter Five

  Kinley

  It only takes me a few minutes to check on the progress of my new home, then I lead Holt back out the door. He looks bored. I guess this little place doesn’t look like much when you’re a gazillionaire who can buy whatever mansion grabs your eye, but to me, it’s everything. It’s the future I always wanted.

  He’s kind of quiet until we get back to the beach. As we start toward the dock, he flashes me a grin and darts toward the jet ski. It only takes me a few running steps to realize I don’t have a prayer at beating him, and I give up, throwing my hands in the air. “Fine, you drive,” I laugh.

  “It’s the best way I know to get your arms around me,” he says, patting the seat behind him.

  He really has to stop flirting with me. It’s hard enough to look at his smooth, tanned skin, and dark, broody eyes without climbing him like a ladder. Anavrin and Foster may be encouraging it, but I’m not going to let that happen. There’s too much bad behavior in his past, too much drama that I don’t want to be part of, not to mention he has a girlfriend. A freaking model whose thighs probably don’t jiggle when she runs.

  I climb on behind him and tentatively grip his sides. “Don’t be nervous, bug. You can put your hands anywhere.”

  “How about over your mouth?” I suggest, holding onto him tighter.

  “I’ve never really been into the whole BDSM, power exchange thing, but I’m open to new ideas. A ball gag would probably work better.”

  I’m sure my laughter just encourages him, but I can’t help it. Today has been the most fun I’ve had in a year, and no one is more surprised than me. “Just take us back to Foxhaven.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  Once we’re a few feet from the shore, he guns it, and I have to wrap my arms around his middle or go flying off the back. My squeal is met with a satisfied grin in the tiny rearview mirror.

  “One more ride before we head back!” he shouts and heads out toward the center of the lake.

  It takes me a moment to realize what he’s about to do. “You’d better not tip us!” I scoot up to press my body against his back and tighten my arms around him.

  A speedboat races past us, and his face is pure joy as he steers us toward the waves in its wake. “Here we go!” he shouts.

  We fly through the water then begin to hop a few small waves. It’s just a build up, though, to the biggest one. “Holt!” I scream as the water drives the machine upward. We’re almost vertical and for a split second, I’m sure we’re going into the water, but it lands tail end first, and we both manage to hang on.

  He lets out a whoop, followed by laughter when I start cursing him. He’d probably take it a bit more seriously if I didn’t have a giant smile on my face. “You crazy asshole!”

  He turns and steers us back toward the shore. The water is calm, and I could let go of him now, or at least scoot back a tad, but I’m taking advantage. My arms are wrapped around the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in person, his warm wet muscles flexing under my hands. His neck is right in front of my eyes, and I stare at the tiny droplets that cling to the thin layer of peach fuzz. A sudden urge to drag my lips and tongue over them is probably a bad sign.

  Maybe I’m wrong, but licking water from a guest’s neck would probably fall into that unprofessional category. What is wrong with me today? It’s not like I’ve never been turned on by an attractive guy, but this is the first time I’ve considered the back of a guy’s neck sexy.

  Holt pulls up to the dock and lets me off the jet ski first. He’s all smiles when he joins me. In the couple of weeks that he’s been staying here, this is the happiest I’ve seen him. It’s really done him good to get out of his room and have some fun.

  The little patch of beach here is empty and he flops in the sand, lying back with his arms folded behind his head. The setting sun filters through the trees behind us, throwing thin patterns of light across his abs.

  I stretch out beside him, and we both stare at the water for a moment, lost in our own thoughts. “It really is beautiful here,” he murmurs.

  “I’d never want to live anywhere else.”

  He rolls over to his side and props his head on his fist. “Have you ever lived anywhere else?”

  “I lived in Indianapolis through college. It was okay. There’s a lot to do in the city and everything is open twenty-four seven, but it’s so busy. And loud. And it didn’t smell very nice. What about you? Where did you grow up?”

&n
bsp; His jaw tightens, and he stares back out at the water. “Lots of places. I was born in Arizona but ended up in Nashville. The record label is located there, so it’s home for now.”

  Melancholy seeps into his tone as he answers. Maybe he’s homesick. “Hmm, I always thought it was all about country music in Nashville.”

  “Lots of musicians get their big break in Music City, not just country performers.”

  “Was music always your dream?”

  He grins down at me. “Are you finishing our quid pro quo from my birthday dinner?”

  Sitting up, I run my fingers through my damp hair, freeing a few tangles. “It was your turn to answer.”

  He draws designs in the sand with his finger as he talks. “I guess I didn’t really have a dream growing up, but I loved to write. And I love music. It just sort of came together. I got lucky.”

  “I’ve heard your stuff. You’re talented, not lucky.”

  The small smile he gives me stirs some emotion I can’t describe. He’s dropped his guard, that cocky attitude he usually carries, and let himself slip through. Maybe it’s the vulnerability in it that makes me add, “What’s your family like?”

  After a few moments hesitation, he says, “No fair. It’s my turn.”

  “Fine,” I sigh, letting him off the hook. I don’t like talking about my family either, especially now that there’s nothing left of it.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I probably should’ve seen that coming. “No, not since I left college.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing really. We were headed in different directions. He accepted a job in Ontario, and I had my responsibilities waiting here.” And he was a dick who thought his career came above mine, but there’s no reason to get into all that. “Where did you meet Alicia?”

  He winces at the sound of her name. There must be some serious issues there. He sits up, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “Alicia and I aren’t together. It’s bullshit. Sully arranged it for the publicity.”