Fakers (27 page)

Nancy smiled, taking Annabelle’s wrist to
make sure she wasn’t getting too hot. “Maybe next time. I have pies
in the oven.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
“All she does is cook pies. She’s trying to make me fat.”

“We’ll get those curvy hips back so we can
catch you a man,” Nancy said.

“Humph.” Annabelle fussed with the brim of
her hat, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Nancy winked at Kyra before she went inside.
“How long were you and Mr. Cooper together?” Kyra asked,
smiling.

“Oh, goodness. All our lives. We fell in
love in high school. Lord, he was the dorkiest thing. You wouldn’t
ever look twice at him. But something about him spoke to me, and I
knew he was the one.” Annabelle’s smile was faraway, her memories
of her husband clearly touching her heart. “He was a good man. I
miss him every day,” she added.

“You both did wonderful jobs raising Hale
and Cade. They are wonderful,” Kyra said, making Annabelle smile
even wider.

“They will always be my boys to me.” She
leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hand. Her eyes were sharp
and clear now as they focused on Kyra. “I saw how Hale watched you
the other day. He’s never brought a girl to see me before.”

Kyra choked on her sweet tea. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh, well,” Kyra said, trying to recover.
“We’re not really that serious or anything. Or, I mean,” she
fumbled, thinking Annabelle would assume she’d meant they were just
sleeping together, “we haven’t known each other very long.”

“I get it.” Annabelle shook her head with a
sigh. “Hale can be a crotchety bastard, just like his father.”

Kyra didn’t just choke on her tea this time.
She spewed it. Thankfully, Annabelle was out of the line of fire.
She looked up to see Annabelle’s mischievous glint in her eyes, and
Kyra burst out laughing. “He really can be!” she managed.

She thought about the night before and how
pissed Hale had been about the mosquitoes and sex. She blushed as
Annabelle said, “He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. It’s just
who he is. Like I said, he took after his father.”

“He can be so funny and lighthearted
sometimes. And then he gets all grumpy.” Kyra wiped under her eyes
and took another drink, the condensation making her hand slick.

“Never said he was consistent.”

Kyra reached for some fruit to munch on. She
felt so at home with this woman, like she’d known Annabelle her
whole life. “I like that about him. He’s always honest about how he
feels.”

A shadow flittered over Annabelle’s face,
and Kyra instantly worried if she’d said something wrong. “Hale may
have taken after his father, but Cade took after me. You probably
know Cade was bullied when he was younger?” Annabelle asked, and
Kyra nodded in answer. “It bothered him a lot, but he never told
anyone. One day, Hale caught him holding his breath in the bathtub.
He’d been under so long that he was turning blue. Hale pulled him
out, but it scared him, scared us all. None of us really understood
the depth of Cade’s pain. Since then, Hale’s been the protector,
the one who always makes sure we’re okay. He insists on being
honest.”

Kyra could only nod in agreement. She
thought about that evening when Hale had raced to the water,
thinking she was going to drown herself. He’d been wild with anger
and probably fear, she realized now. It was why he always pushed
her so hard to be real and open. He needed that from those around
him because he was terrified of losing them.

She and Annabelle visited for a while longer
until Kyra noticed the woman growing tired. Almost as if on cue,
Nancy appeared with Annabelle’s afternoon medicine and an update on
the building storm. It was then that Kyra noticed Hale had already
been to his mother’s house earlier in the day to put up her storm
shutters. With a smile, she hugged each of them goodbye and walked
through the gardens to her Jeep.

It was late in the afternoon, and the car
was stuffy when she got in. Checking her phone, she noticed a text
from Stevie.

Stevie:
Cade is coming to see me tmr.
So you can’t since only one visitor is allowed. #conjugalvisit.
Looks like the storm is getting closer!

Kyra:
Gross, Stevie. Have fun. We
will get your storm shutters up.

She also had a text from Hale.

Hale:
I’m waiting.

Two simple words made her heart hammer.

When she pulled in the drive, she noticed
all the house lights were on. It was the first time she’d ever had
the sensation of coming home to someone. Her smile was wide as she
walked to the front door.

Inside, Hale had his radio turned up so loud
that Kyra heard it from the entry. She threaded her way through the
work supplies and walked to the back of the house. There, she found
Hale bent over a sawhorse, cutting precise lines through old pieces
of wood they’d taken off the house. He never let anyone throw
anything away that had come from the house, especially if it was
wood or something that could be repurposed. He said if it had been
with the house this long, he was going to ensure it stayed with it
for the next hundred years.

“What are you making?” Kyra asked. She
settled her hand against his back, pressing her palm into the
swells of his muscles. Without a word, he turned and kissed her
until she’d forgotten what she asked.

“A new buffet. The original one is long
gone, so I’m going to replicate it from the old pictures we
have.”

“Pictures?”

“The ones upstairs in the extra bedroom,”
Hale said, frowning.

“Oh, right.” Kyra’s throat constricted. It
hadn’t occurred to her that he would return to the bedroom to look
at her mother’s pictures. “I’ve been looking through them too.”

“Is it okay that I looked at them?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Kyra shrugged, smiling,
which made Hale narrow his eyes. “I just mean,” she went on, “that
I didn’t realize anyone else had seen them. My aunt and uncle had a
few pictures of Mom, but nothing like what I’ve found here.”

His expression relaxed. “I understand. I
won’t look at them anymore.”

“What? No. I didn’t mean that. You can look
at them too,” she said, her voice too high-pitched.

“How about if you find some pictures of the
house or any old furniture, you can show it to me if you want?”

A little spot in Kyra’s chest eased at
Hale’s patient words. She hadn’t realized she would be so
protective of the pictures. Hugging him, she murmured against his
neck, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go order takeout.
I’m not eating that tofu shit again.”

Kyra called for some Thai takeout while he
listened to the radio. “It’ll be here in thirty minutes. What’s
going on?” she asked when she hung up the phone.

“That storm is building up pretty good, and
its aiming straight for us. We could get hit by the end of the
week,” Hale answered, switching the radio to a channel playing rock
music.

“How bad is it?” Kyra had never been through
a hurricane before. The worst she’d experienced in California were
earthquakes and sunburn.

“They’re saying it could be a category-3
when it hits land, which could get pretty intense.”

“Stevie asked if we could put up her storm
shutters,” Kyra said, remembering her friend’s request.

“Already done. We have to delay painting the
outside of your house until after the storm passes. I don’t want
anything to nick the paint.”

She didn’t know what to say. He seemed to
think of everything to take care of those around him. “Thank you,”
she said, crossing over to him and kissing him lightly.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes brightened. “A
storm means some nice swells though. Good surfing for the next few
days.”

Kyra’s worry about the hurricane slipped
away. “That sounds awesome. Let’s go out there now before the food
comes!” She was already moving toward the back door when his voice
stopped her.

“We can play in it tomorrow,” he said. “I
have plans for tonight.”

She cocked a brow. “Like what?”

“Like ones that don’t involve me puking
everywhere.” His expression was mischievous, and she could
practically read his dirty thoughts.

“That night had a pretty happy ending.”

He snorted. “For you it did.”

Later that evening when the Thai takeout
boxes were in the trash, Hale said, “I have a surprise for
you.”

“Is it a furniture magazine?” Kyra asked,
groaning as she rose from the floor. “Cause I really need to get
some.”

“I can take you to some salvage places
tomorrow to pick some stuff out if you want.”

“That would be great.” She stretched out her
back. “So what’s the surprise?”

“Follow me.”

They went to the back porch and turned on
the outside light. Kyra gasped.

The entire back garden was pruned and
weeded. New plants with fragrant, white blooms had been added with
fresh mulch. A hammock stretched between the two large magnolia
trees.

“Hale! How did you do all this in one
afternoon?”

“You did most of the work. But most old
houses like this always had a white garden in the back. The flowers
only bloom at night, and they have the sweetest smells.”

Kyra went down the stairs and examined her
new garden. Something about the delicate, white blooms opening up
only at night swelled her heart. They were hidden, precious gems
with the nicest perfumes.

“This is…it’s amazing. Thank you, Hale.” She
looked back up at him where he still stood on the porch. In the
warm light from the porch and with the moon illuminating his face,
he looked like the man she wanted to keep for all her life. She
needed this, to see him standing on her porch smiling down at her.
Tears brimmed along her eyes. This was what she wanted, what she
yearned for.

Suddenly, Kyra just needed his hands on her.
She needed to feel him close to her, to claim him while he was
hers. When she pulled her shirt over her head, Hale’s eyes went
wide with understanding. He was down the porch steps when she
reached for the button on her shorts.

“I think we should break in that hammock,”
she whispered, letting her shorts fall to the ground. Hale bowed
over her, his hands reaching for her face to pull her into a kiss.
Their lips met, and she knew she was falling in love with him.

He picked her up and carried her to the
hammock. He sprawled out on it, pulling Kyra down on top of him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, removing her bra. His hand closed
over her breast. “Couldn’t stop looking at you that day we met. It
pissed me off.”

“I could tell.” Her laugh turned into a gasp
when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

“I wanted you then. I knew I would need to
get my hands on you.”

Kyra couldn’t respond as he kissed her neck,
his hands rasping across her skin. She undid his pants and pulled
his erection free. The ache between her legs was a steady pulse
that needed to be relieved. He didn’t bother taking her panties
off; he just pushed the material to the side and guided his tip
inside her.

Their legs were so entangled, and the
hammock was so tight around them that he couldn’t push too far
inside of her. But Kyra moved against him, sliding him in as far as
she could. Hale hissed, his hands clenching the meat of her ass as
she rocked against him.

“You feel so tight,” he groaned, clenching
his eyes shut.

“Touch me again like you did last night.”
Kyra needed relief. She grinded against him, but when he started
using his fingers on her clit, she started to feel that wonderful
build up. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force herself to
come. She needed it so bad.

“Not yet,” he said, taking his fingers
away.

“What?” she gasped, looking at him. Her body
burned. “Why not?”

He started touching her again with one hand
while he kept the other on her ass, guiding her motions and keeping
her from moving too fast. “You’ll come when I tell you.”

Kyra would have protested, but she was
already getting close again, so she only nodded. Her insides
clenched as they rocked their hips together. She felt so close to
tipping over the edge when he slowed his fingers again. “Ugh,” she
groaned.

“Wait for me, baby,” Hale whispered in her
ear.

She looked him in the eye as she moved
against him. He guided her, controlled her. His finger made
torturous circles around her clit. Finally, his muscles tightened
beneath her and his breath started to hitch. A vein in his neck
rose and pulsed.

“Please,” Kyra whispered.

His fingers dug into her hip. “Now,” he
said, his voice a thick rasp. He reared back and smacked her ass,
the crack loud enough to likely wake up Mrs. Harrison. The pain was
a sharp burn that flared around the pleasure. Kyra gasped, throwing
her head back as her orgasm crashed around her. She rode against
Hale while he came, echoing her moans. Their bodies swayed above
the ground, the storm’s breeze whisking across their electric
skin.

When the orgasms had turned them into
nothing but loose skin and trembling muscles, Kyra lolled her head
back on Hale’s shoulder and looked up at him. Her voice was groggy
as she said, “Ouch.”

twenty-seven

I
f I’d known you
had such horrible taste in furniture, I never would have asked you
to come.”

Hale’s brows lifted, twisting his piercing.
“Volunteered to help, actually. And I don’t have awful taste. This
is a really functional table.”

The table was plain and uninspired, with
flat white paint and straight lines. Kyra blew a loose strand of
hair out of her eyes. They had left early that morning, once Hale
had given the crew instructions to get the house prepared for the
storm. Now it was almost dinnertime, and he’d taken her to three
salvage and antique stores. So far, she’d found some awesome things
to fill her house, but she really needed a great dining room table
so her friends wouldn’t have to sit on her porch’s rough
floorboards when they came over for dinner.