Beautiful White Lies Duet

by K L Clare

  “Of course, you’re new to town. I’m sorry. I know the uniform, but I don’t remember seeing you at Nick’s.”

  He squinted.

  “Nick’s—the local favorite, the town’s watering hole? Everyone on the Force comes in regularly for a burger and chowder. I’ve worked there for years.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I mean to stop in soon.” His eyes shifted and strained to see beyond the open door.

  Confused, I stared at Parker and waited for him to speak again. He hadn’t yet articulated the reason for his visit, and considering the circumstances, I found it unsettling. I reminded myself that Ben was nearby. It was odd, but the presence of an unfamiliar British soldier was more comforting.

  “Is it okay if I come in, Ms. James?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. What is it, officer? Do you need me at the station?”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  He worked harder at jangling whatever he carried in his pocket. “No need to come to the station yet. In fact, if you plan to come back into town, call me first. We’ll see that it’s safe.” The detective handed me a Stonington Police Department business card with his handwritten cell number on it. “Maybe you need to see to funeral arrangements or something. I can escort you.”

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with the investigation?” I asked.

  “We’re doing what we can, but there isn’t much for investigators and forensics to work with.” He stared behind me into the cottage again—he knew I wasn’t alone.

  “If there’s nothing more you can tell me, please go. I’d like to rest.”

  “Of course. You have my number.” Parker extended a firm handshake, one meant to intimidate. “A word of advice: don’t leave this county.”

  I closed the door and tossed a nervous glance at Ben. A stinging sensation gnawed at the pit of my stomach as I headed for my bedroom. Did the police consider me a suspect?

  7

  Lissie poked her head into the shower. “Aunt Ellie, I’m hungry.” Then she sat on the toilet seat lid and waited for me to finish. I’d seen her sit in the bathroom with Isobel that way hundreds of times.

  “Okay, sweetie, I’m almost done, then we’ll have breakfast. Wait for me—don’t leave the bedroom until I’m ready. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m . . . I don’t know. I wanna cry.”

  “It’s okay to cry.” I quickly rinsed the conditioner from my hair. “And it’s okay to be sad. I’m sad too. You know that, right?”

  “Are those guys still here?”

  “Yes. Do you remember their names?”

  “Will.”

  “Will, yes. Ben is the one with dark hair. John is the youngest, who looks like Will.”

  “Are they good guys? Like superheroes?”

  I pulled back the shower curtain and slipped into my bathrobe. “Well, no, but they are here to help us.” I took hold of her chin, thumbing the little dimple there, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I know you’re sad and scared. Me too. I don’t have any answers yet, but I promise I’ll figure this out. For now, I think we’re safer if they stay. I’ll never leave you, Lissie. I love you.”

  It was the first time those last three words had ever left my lips in that order.

  I knew nothing about being a mother, and I couldn’t have been more unprepared to be her guardian. Isobel once told me you need only to know love to be a parent. “That counts me out,” I’d said, confessing to never having loved anyone other than her and our gran. And even that had never been a close, affectionate love.

  Maybe it was my fault—maybe my heart didn’t know how to love because I never gave it a chance, choosing to paint my view of life within the boundaries of my mind rather than live it. I’d been raised without parents by a preoccupied English grandmother. Maybe it was their fault for abandoning me. Or maybe I was just a cold bitch and didn’t have it in me.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear my mind. “Let’s get something to eat, pretty girl.” I managed an authentic smile when she looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes.

  Lissie finished her scrambled eggs and glass of milk in a hurry before suddenly breaking down again. She was a child abandoned, left with nothing more than pain and the idea of solitude—and that was something I understood.

  “Momma’s never coming back. . . . She’s never coming back . . . my momma . . .” She stuttered through the same words several times, bawling as heartbreak pulled her under. It was the worst thing I’d ever seen.

  I dropped to my knees and held her as tightly as I could.

  God, tell me what to do. Please help me help her.

  Her harsh sobs eventually slowed to soft weeping.

  Will walked in as I dried the last of her tears with a kitchen towel. His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide when she spun and pegged him with her puffy gaze. They stared at each other—with the same eyes.

  When she turned back to me, her eyes revealed the same striking intensity as his. I wanted to ask what she’d found in his—wanted to know what it felt like for her. Did she recognize a small piece of herself? Instead, I hid my surprise behind a reticent smile. “I have art supplies in my closet. Go to my room, choose some paint colors from the shelf, and wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”

  She stared at Will as she pranced from the kitchen, resilient and cheerful once again.

  “Are you all right, Ellie?”

  I nodded but avoided his eyes. I’d fallen apart on him the night before.

  He came around the center island. “You’re sure?” The tenderness in his voice was soothing. I shut my eyes and tried to absorb it. “Hey.” He closed in and lifted my chin, forcing eye contact and, without doubt, expecting more tears. There were none.

  “Ben told you—about Detective Parker’s visit?”

  “Yes. And you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. He thinks I had something to do with it.”

  “Did he accuse you?”

  “It’s the way he looked at me.”

  “I’ll look into it. He hasn’t yet reported your location. Once he does that, police will be all over this place, so stay close to me. I’ll handle the authorities. The local media outlets haven’t taken an interest in your location, and I want it to stay that way until we’re gone. I have someone conducting surveillance in town, but still, we can’t stay here long. You understand that, right? I need you to trust me.”

  I studied his eyes as they studied mine. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. Where else could I go? Pain, confusion, and loneliness haunted me, but when he was close, when he touched me, my mind rested. I would stay close to him. And trust him. I nodded.

  “Lissie’s beautiful,” Will said.

  “Her eyes. She looks a lot like—”

  “Ethan,” he finished. “I don’t believe my brother would bail on his own child.” He shook his head. “Not if he knew. Let’s keep this between you and me for now. I need to talk to him before jumping off with it.”

  * * *

  Goose bumps ran up my arm as I sat outside on the beach with Will, even as the golden sun heated my skin. Will’s spice mingled with the seaside scents and drifted on the ocean breeze, whirling around me. We watched Lissie sort through her collection of shells and stones and color them with her paints.

  “How long have you been here?” I wanted to hear it from him.

  “Arrived the first of May.”

  “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Every day since.” He straightened his back and met my eyes. “But I’ve seen you before. You’ve seen me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You deserve the truth, Elle.”

  “When?”

  “My father told me about you when I was five and reminded me often how I would someday protect you. There was no imminent danger at the time I came over, and he’d forbidden it, but I needed to see for myself that you were real—that the training had purpose. It all seemed
mad to me then, as it does for you now. You were seventeen.”

  There was sincerity in his eyes. His words held me captivated. I wanted more. There had to be more, so I encouraged him. “Go on. Tell me, Will.”

  “You were with a group of girls walking along Water Street, laughing and eating ice cream. There was a town celebration, and the crowd was heavy. You were shoved and I caught you.” He pushed his stare to the horizon with unfocused eyes and a self-indulgent smile. “You looked up at me and apologized three times. I could never forget those green eyes.”

  A sharp breath pierced my chest. I remembered.

  When his eyes came back to mine, the smile was gone. “Four years later, I came back. It was impulsive, ego-driven. I beat a man for following you from a pub across your university campus.”

  “You did that,” I whispered in disbelief.

  His eyes were charged with emotion. “If you hadn’t turned back, I would have killed him. He was planning to hurt you.”

  The man had threatened to find me after I snubbed his advances in the bar. Jess and I later found him on the ground—half dead—and called campus police.

  “How long did you stay?”

  “About ten days. Would have stayed longer if Ethan hadn’t ordered me home. We’d just completed the business plan for our private equity firm, and I’d left at a critical time.” Will stood and offered his hand. “Back inside. It’s getting late.”

  * * *

  In my room, after I checked on Lissie once more for the night, I could only stare at my bed. Going near it would be to fall into a dark, isolated hole with no way out—a feeling that had begun to haunt me during my last year at UConn. Panic slinked around my neck and suffocated me. I put out a hand, reaching for the wall.

  I needed air, needed the sea, needed . . . something. I could hardly breathe.

  Will appeared on the other side of the glass-paned doors as though he were responding to my silent plea. He opened one side and extended his hand, waiting without a word to see if his offer would be accepted. I placed my hand in his. He led me to the double-wide chaise, where he gestured with his head for me to sit and handed me an open bottle of red wine.

  I wiggled into an awkward position on the edge. “Thanks. Being confined indoors is hard. I’m used to being outside, day and night.”

  “Unless you’re with me, you must not come out of the cottage.”

  “I know.” I tipped the wine bottle, sipping politely at first, then gulped until I had to come up for air. The edge had to be alleviated somehow—before I melted down like Lissie.

  When I offered him a drink, the corners of his mouth twitched. He took a swig and returned it to my hand, then watched me pull deep from the bottle three more times. I sank into the downy cushions with a light head. His lips curved into a full, crooked smile as he grabbed a throw from one of the chairs and covered me.

  I was tipsy, and the liquid courage warmed me, so with a flirty smile, I held out the wine bottle without fully extending my arm—it was an invitation. I needed the peace his closeness provided. With a raised brow, he accepted the invite, placing the bottle on the table before he plopped into the cushions next to me. He lifted his arm, and without hesitation, I rolled into his side and placed my head on his chest.

  “Sleep,” he commanded.

  Settled against the warmth of Will’s body, I slept soundly for a few hours in the cool night air. No doubt the rolling and crashing of waves had been a lullaby, but he’d been my anchor.

  I woke before he did and stared at his rugged, beautiful face. Golden stubble highlighted his jawline, and long, dark lashes touched his cheekbones. I closed my eyes and remembered the younger version I’d bumped into ten years earlier. His hair had been lighter and his face clean-shaven, but the same charged eyes had held mine. He had been well-built even then, a little leaner, and had stood at the same imposing height. My strawberry ice cream had dotted his black T-shirt.

  He stirred, twisting from his back to his side, and pulled me closer. He was . . . aroused. As he shifted his weight and settled, the chaise’s wood frame creaked in complaint.

  “Will?”

  “Yeah?” He opened his eyes and stared back at me.

  “Tell me what’s going to happen. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Let me take you to England. I have the resources there that I need to keep you safe.” The suggestion rolled off his tongue with ease.

  “But my life is here. I don’t know how to live anywhere else. The beach, the art gallery, my friends . . .” I winced. None of it mattered without my family.

  Will tightened his embrace and waited while I bitch-slapped grief.

  “You must have a life of your own you’d like to get back to,” I said.

  He glared at me. “Your protection is my priority. Nothing else is as important. I’ll be with you or near you—”

  “For how long? How long will this go on?”

  He shrugged. “It may never end.”

  “That’s . . . that’s—”

  “Who we are. We’re bound, Elle. Neither of us can change that. I understand you haven’t had time to come to terms with it, but know that I’m telling you—warning you—if you run, I’ll follow. If you insist on staying here, I’ll stay. Assassins will continue to search for you. I’ll protect you no matter the location, but I believe England is the best option, and I’ll work hard to convince you of it. The two of you will be safe at Eastridge.”

  “Eastridge?”

  “Name of the house.”

  “How long will you give me to consider it?”

  “Not long. There isn’t much time. They’re going to come for you.”

  I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the thought of anything beyond the moment we were in. The future—the next day—was too much to consider. I wanted only to lie there wrapped up in Will, soothed and protected.

  “What’s this?” He touched the white butterfly-shaped birthmark on my neck.

  My eyes flew open. His touch was rousing. “The butterfly? It’s a birthmark.”

  He traced it several times with his fingertip, sending shivers along my spine. “Not a butterfly,” he said with a slight shake of his head. His long finger wandered away from the birthmark and made its way to my bottom lip. His eyes came back to mine. Then he moved that finger and placed a warm, soft kiss in its spot.

  It was easy to give myself permission to melt into his body since he already held me in his arms. I touched his cheek. “Do it again.”

  Will threw his legs over the side of the chaise with a hoarse curse and gave me his back. “Go inside and stay there.”

  “What? No.” I was confused and defiant.

  He lowered his head into his hands. “Please.”

  I leaped from the chaise and blasted through the door, not bothering to close it after it banged into the wall.

  8

  Will came back from an exhausting shoreline run and kept his back to me as he crouched with his elbows against his thighs to catch his breath. I watched the muscles in his back expand and contract and his shoulders rise and fall, and my frustration peaked. I needed either a knockdown, drag-out fight or to be taken hard in bed. He’d made it clear he wasn’t going to touch me again, so a fight he would get.

  “Where’s my gun?”

  His head snapped in my direction. “It’s my job to carry weapons, not yours.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “It’s mine and I want it back.”

  Rising to his full height, he turned and stood with his feet spread wide and arms folded over his chest. “Do you know how to use it?”

  “How hard can it be?”

  He darted up the veranda stairs and stopped short only to hover over me like a storm. “As long as I breathe, you’ll not carry a gun. You’ll not touch one or even look at one unless you’ve learned to use it properly. When you’re finished behaving like a fucking brat, we’ll talk about what needs to happen next.”

  “Me? You big bastard!”

  “Brat,” he
repeated.

  He was sweating, and his spiced, scorching heat turned me on. Recognizing the distraction, I stifled a moan and vowed to fight harder.

  “Your move.” He cocked his head.

  I considered slapping the smug expression off his face.

  He shook his head in warning before jerking me to his chest and resting a cheek on top of my head. “Your burden is heavy. Let me bear some of it. You don’t need to worry about weapons and protecting yourself. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t leave you alone.”

  I clutched his sweat-soaked shirt with both hands. I thought I should cry, but no tears would come. There was no swelling in the back of my throat. No sob tore at my chest. I didn’t feel the sadness or grief I should have, not when I was in his arms.

  “We need to focus on you. I know you worry for Lissie, but she’ll be fine.”

  “Fine?” I glanced inside where she lounged on my bed with her tablet.

  “She hasn’t been discovered. Even if so, they may not care. Her lineage is matrilineal.”

  My fingers hadn’t released his shirt, nor had he removed his arms from around me. I lay my head back on his chest to think. “Do you truly believe she’s not on their radar?”

  “Yes, I’m sure of it.”

  I lifted my chin and searched his eyes—he did believe it. Still, I would insist on actions that wouldn’t risk her precious life.

  * * *

  Later in the evening, when Lissie slept, I approached him from behind and whispered next to his ear, “Will, take me out to the beach.” Even closer, I breathed, “Please.”

  He dropped the newspaper and came around the chair. “Stay close to me, Elle.”

  “Elle,” he’d said again, not Ellie. It was the intimate version of my name for him—the version he shared with no one. He took my hand and led me through the kitchen and down the rocky hill path to the beach.