Fakers (5 page)

“Something like that…” Cade didn’t seem to
want to talk about it, so she didn’t press the point. “People
around here judge him really harshly. They see the piercings and
the tattoos and they just assume he is a bad person, but that is
really not the case at all.” Cade glanced over at her nervously, as
if he wanted to convince her about his brother’s character. “He is
a good guy. He hates seeing anyone get picked on.”

“Then why doesn’t he stand up for himself if
everyone thinks so poorly of him?”

Cade shrugged. “I have asked him the same
thing many times. But he just does not care. He is going to be who
he is with no apologies. People don’t like that. They want an
apology for everything you say and do in this town.”

“I think that’s brave,” Kyra said. “That he
would just be himself and not worry what other people think.”

“Hale is the bravest man you will ever meet
then,” Cade said with a snort. “Sometimes I wish he would care a
little more. It would help me out a lot.”

She smiled. “Maybe some of that will rub off
on me. I care too much about what other people think. Those women
would’ve had me weeding in a few minutes if Hale hadn’t come
out.”

“You and me both,” Cade said with a laugh.
“But just give him a chance. He does not have many friends, and I
can tell you are an understanding person. He needs more of those
people in his life.”

“Of course.” Feeling guilty for her earlier
mean thoughts about Hale, Kyra vowed to do better next time.
“Thanks for showing me around today. I’m excited to see more of the
town.”

“No problem!” Cade rolled down the windows
and turned on some music, which suited her tastes perfectly. She
relaxed into the smooth leather and enjoyed the ride. “Do not let
those ladies fool you, Canaan is actually a great place to live.
The tourists keep it young and fresh, and you cannot beat living on
an island.”

They drove around, and by lunch, Cade had
made her completely forget about the neighborhood ladies and her
disastrous garden. With all the hilarious stories he told her about
him and Hale growing up on the island, Kyra started to feel like
she not only knew the Cooper brothers better, but that she knew the
island better too. The cheery town with its downtown square and
church bells ringing on the hour started to feel like home, and not
once did Kyra feel the slinking pull of sadness. All her smiles
were real and genuine, and that was the best feeling of all.

four

K
yra woke the next
morning feeling pretty good. She called her Aunt Carol first thing
to ensure her that everything was fine, and her aunt took the
opportunity to hassle her more about calling a therapist.
Logically, she knew she should, because any little thing could
trigger her and send her regressing on her recovery, but the
thought of sitting and discussing her feelings made her fidget with
her bracelets again. Maybe it was crazy, but Kyra really thought
Canaan Island could heal her if she let it.

Forcing herself to think of other things,
she walked out of the bathroom, and her eyes instantly settled on
the surf through her bedroom window. It looked spectacular and
inviting as it broke against the sand. Too inviting.

“You should be working, Kyra,” she murmured
to herself, but it was no good. She quickly changed into her bikini
and jogged down the stairs. The crew was already hard at work this
morning with their hammering filling the house and the basement,
where another half of the crew was working to fix beams or
something that Kyra really didn’t understand.

“Hey, Chevy!” she called as she stepped into
the construction zone.

“Morning, Miss Kyra.” Hale’s foreman
scratched the top of his head when she breezed by, his eyes
noticeably averted, which made her grin.

All around her, the sound of hammers
stopped, but she didn’t pay any attention as she rounded the corner
into the kitchen. Men had stared at her all her life. It used to
bother her, but she’d stopped letting herself feel self-conscious
about it years ago. Sure, she was pretty when her hair was fixed
and her makeup was flawless—she was even pretty hot when she wore
shorts and cropped tops or a bikini—but those men didn’t see her
with sweaty hair or when she’d just woken up in the morning. They
didn’t see all the active hours she spent during her day to keep
her body in shape. They thought she was beautiful when she looked
her best, but if they still stared when she was just her natural
self, then she might look back.

Until then she’d wait, and wait she had.
She’d dated, but she’d never had a real, steady boyfriend
throughout high school or college. She’d been busy ensuring she’d
be able to make a life for herself without depending on anyone
else, especially anyone from her family. She’d paid her way through
college with no debt, she had an amazing job, and she’d bought her
first house.

If she was a twenty-four-year-old virgin
because of it, so be it.

“Hey!”

Kyra jumped, her hand fumbling the surfboard
she was pulling from the rack. She glanced over her shoulder and
saw Hale storming out of the back door. The screen door slammed
behind him.

“Hey?” she said, but she had a slight
inkling that he wasn’t being friendly and saying good morning. Over
her shoulder, a seagull squawked.

“You can’t just parade around in those
skanky scraps of material in front of my men,” he said, his green
eyes snapping with anger. She hadn’t remembered his eyes being so
green before. Actually, she realized, this was the first time she
noticed his eye color.

Her first reaction was to be angry, but Kyra
forced herself to calm down. She didn’t want to snap at Hale. After
her conversation with Cade yesterday, she wanted to be more
understanding of him and cut him some slack.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but she had to force
the apology just like she had to force herself to smile, “but I
doubt they minded much.”

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t give a damn
how much they minded. It’s a distraction.”

“For you or them?” She couldn’t help her
small snort of laughter, but his anger was like a lash in the air,
and she stepped back without meaning to. “Look, I’ll wear a coverup
next time. Will that work?”

“Wear
something
is all I’m
asking.”

Kyra’s patience wore thin. She wanted
nothing more than to give Hale a piece of her mind, but she forced
herself to think of Cade and what he’d asked of her. Keeping her
smile plastered in place, she laughed like Hale had been joking.
His eyes darkened.

“Sure thing!” she said brightly, picking her
board back up. As she turned to walk away, she saw him roll his
eyes at her before he went back inside the house. She didn’t know
how it had happened, but somehow she’d made Hale Cooper hate her,
she was certain of it. Even when she was to the edge of the lapping
waves against the beach, she could hear him yelling at his
guys.

She hated it when people didn’t like her. It
felt like a failure, like she wasn’t good enough to meet their
standards. The tears pricked against the back of her eyes, but she
forced herself to not cry. It took all she had, but she made
herself smile even though no one was around to see her fake show of
happiness.

Some people hid their issues with anger or
aloofness, but she chose to smile and laugh. When the sadness
threatened to be too much some days, she would force herself to
smile and pretend to be as happy as possible. Slowly, it would make
her feel better until she genuinely believed everything was
okay.

So with a sigh, she forced herself to forget
Hale’s cruelty. She focused on the soothing water and paddling out
past the shore break, but the short hour in the water didn’t do
much good. As soon as Kyra walked into her kitchen after waxing and
putting her board away, the tension was back, her thoughts on
Hale’s pissy attitude.

Apparently everyone was at lunch, so she
took the opportunity to sneak back to her bedroom and close the
door. She hid in there for the rest of the day, only emerging into
her own house after she was certain Hale and his crew were
gone.

***

Kyra hid in her room most of the next day
too. She’d caught up on all her work and was actually getting ahead
on the next week when she started to grow angry. This was her
house. Hale was intimidating when he was mad, but that didn’t mean
that she should hide out in her bedroom all day.

When her stomach rumbled with hunger, she
decided to leave. She wouldn’t be a prisoner in her own house. When
she went downstairs, she didn’t bother to look around for Hale.
Most of the demo was done in the main rooms, and the crew was in
the basement to get things ready for the plumber and
electrician.

Today was a good day to ride her bike, so
she unloaded it from the back of the Jeep and took off down the
street. Since it was summertime, she passed a lot of kids playing
street hockey or zipping around on rollerblades; they all waved
cheerily as she passed. Once in town, she stopped at an organic
deli and ordered a veggie sandwich, which she ate outside at a
small table. Propping her feet up on the chair beside her, she
enjoyed the laid-back hustle and bustle of the small island’s town
life. She took a big bite of her lunch and munched as she thought.
Her eyes landed on a bakery called Maggie’s Sweets and inspiration
struck.

Hale’s crew would be in her house for weeks,
so she might as well be friendly. She could take them some cookies
and lemonade to win them over to her side since Hale hated her so
much. She pictured his scowl, and she liked her idea even
better.

She finished her sandwich and crossed the
street, aiming for the bakery. The door let out a sweet chiming
noise when she opened it, and the scent of lemon and what could
only be the smell of honey buns blasted her in the face as she
stepped inside. A younger lady, presumably the Maggie in Maggie’s
Bakery, looked up from the back of the shop, where her kitchen was
out in the open for all to see. She smiled at Kyra and swiped a
hand over her brow, spreading flour above her eye.

“Hey there!” she called from the back. “I’m
Maggie. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” Kyra said. “Your
shop smells amazing!”

Maggie laughed, the sound as bright and
cheery as the bells above her shop’s door. “It’s those new lemon
cookies I put out. They’re divine.”

Kyra spotted the cookies in question. They
were round and plump with a dollop of lemon icing pressed in the
middle, and her mouth watered just looking at them. She picked up a
boxed dozen and grabbed a jug of fresh-squeezed lemonade from the
cooler section. Tossing a package of plastic cups onto the pile,
she smiled with satisfaction.

“That was fast!” Maggie said, coming to the
register.

Kyra smiled. “I wanted some treats for the
crew at my house.”

Maggie started ringing up Kyra’s purchases.
“You just moved here?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Kyra chimed. “I bought the old
house out on Gardenia Street.”

Maggie’s face lit up with recognition. “I’ve
always said that house would be beautiful once it was renovated.
Good bones and all that.”

“I think so too.” Kyra pulled out her wallet
and paid for her purchases. Maggie leaned her arms on the counter
and examined her.

“You’re awfully young to be buying a house.
You must be a smart girl.”

Her words made Kyra beam; she was proud of
her accomplishments. “Thank you. I hope it’s going to be a good
investment and not just a money pit.”

Maggie leaned back and waved her arm in the
air like she was shooing away the nonsensical thought. “All old
houses are money pits, but they’re worth it,” she said with a
wink.

“I hope so. Well, I better get these cookies
to the guys. I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy this
beautiful day.”

Kyra waved and turned to leave as the door
chimed again to announce a new customer. She adjusted her grip and
looked up, already smiling. But her smile faltered.

The lady didn’t even look her way, but she
didn’t need to. Kyra recognized that haughty look and disdainful
chin lift from anywhere. The older lady was already bossing Maggie
around, ordering her to pick out the baked goods as she rattled
them off. Maggie rushed around, picking up a box of this and a bag
of that.

Kyra stood stunned for a moment, her mouth
gaping open at the sheer rudeness of the familiar woman. As if she
could feel her staring, the lady turned and glowered at her until
recognition registered.

“Kyra?” the woman asked, shocked. She was a
beautiful lady, and when her face wasn’t twisted into an expression
of scorn, her wrinkles smoothed out and revealed regal features
that could’ve been associated with a classic Hollywood actress.

“Grandmother,” Kyra said.

Florence Aberdeen’s brilliant blue eyes
snapped at the endearment she’d never appreciated, even though she
hadn’t been around much for Kyra to use it. “But what are you doing
here?”

Straight to the point, Kyra thought. No
niceties for the granddaughter Florence had never wanted. “I’m
great! Thanks for asking. I hope you’re well,
Grandmother
.”
She turned to go, her hand on the door. She looked over her
shoulder. “Oh, but haven’t you heard? I bought the white Victorian
on Gardenia. I believe it was once your house, right?”

Florence’s face paled, and she looked very
unladylike with her mouth hanging open like that. Kyra almost felt
guilty, because the old woman appeared a breath away from a heart
attack. But her guilt was short-lived. When her mother had died,
Florence and her husband, Garlan, had refused to adopt Kyra, which
is why her aunt and uncle had to raise her.