Kinley

Two days in paradise just isn’t enough, but with Holt, I’m not sure any amount of time would be enough. We’ve swam and built sand castles like kids. Walked hand in hand down the beach, watching the sun disappear beneath the water. The hours I spent just talking to him with my toes buried in the sand. Small surreal moments, like time carved out of someone else’s life.

We only have a few hours until our flight back to Foxhaven, and Holt comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “One more walk on the beach?” he suggests, kissing my neck.

Something occurred to me last night, and I decide to bring it up. “You bring your guitar everywhere.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He presses his lips just below my ear.

“But I’ve only heard you play a little, and never heard you sing.”

He rests his chin on my shoulder as we look out the window at the rolling waves. “You want me to play for you?”

“I’d love that.”

He steps back, grabs his guitar, and we head out to the deck. He licks his lips and glances at me as he settles the guitar on his lap. “It sounds…different in person. The Jilted songs, they go through production, autotuning, et cetera.” He twirls his hand.

The man who plays in front of thousands of people is nervous to sing for me? He’s so adorable in his self-doubt I want to change my mind and drag him to bed. “Play whatever you want. Anything.”

After thinking for a moment, he brings his fingers to the strings. I recognize the song instantly, but the sound of his voice as he begins nails me to my seat. His albums do him no justice if he’s capable of this.

Deep, almost mournful, but clear and powerful in a way that throws goosebumps across my skin, his voice fills the air, doing justice to Hozier’s “In the Woods Somewhere.”

His voice walls us off from the rest of the world, removes all the stress and noise, and makes me feel in a way that’s somehow beautiful and devastating.

As the last note fades, his gaze meets mine, his eyes intense in the failing light. It looks like he wants to speak but keeps hesitating.

“Holt….that was…I don’t have the words.”

His lips curl into a small smile.

“Your voice is amazing. So much deeper and smoother than you sound on the radio.”

Shrugging, he sets the guitar aside. “Different genre.”

“I loved it,” I murmur, climbing into his lap.

“I can see that.” He grins down at me, running his hands under my shirt.

“Quickie before we catch the plane?”

I’m exhausted in the best way when we get back to Foxhaven, and Harriet grins at me as I step behind the front desk. “I don’t know whether a weekend of sex or sun put that glow on your cheeks, but you look good.”

“Both,” I laugh, skimming through the reservations on the computer. “Wow, we’re booked solid for the Labor Day Picnic.”

“No surprise there.”

Tessa flashes me a smile. I’m glad to see that hiring her has worked out. She adjusted quickly and seems to be happy here, and those are the best employees to have. “You had a few calls over the weekend that weren’t urgent. The messages are in your office.”

“Thank you. I’ll get to them in the morning.” Yawning, I walk around the desk. “I’m headed to bed.”

I’m almost to my room when Holt texts me.

Oh no. He’s a monster. I can’t take any more.

It’s probably not a great idea. We just spent the whole weekend together, but one thought of my empty bed has me heading toward his.

After a short debate with myself over whether to stop by my room for something to sleep in, I decide against it. T-shirt and panties it is. I’ll be asleep as soon as my body hits the bed anyway.

He’s already stretched out with the sheets and covers pulled back when I arrive, waiting for me. It’s so unfair for one human to be that attractive, and even in my near zombie like state, I can’t help but ogle his long, lean body.

“Uh-uh. None of that look if you want any rest,” he cautions with a sleepy grin.

His eyes never leave me as I strip off my shorts and socks, then pull my bra off from under my tee shirt. The bed is soft, and his body is warm as I cuddle up with him. “Thanks for this weekend. I had an amazing time.”

His lips press to my temple. “Me too, bug.”

A groan wakes me, and I hear my alarm blaring.

“It’s six a.m. What kind of hell is this?”

Chuckling, I sit up and silence it. “I have catching up to do after three days away.”

His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back. “No, you’re warm and comfortable, you can’t leave.”

“If I lie back down, I’ll sleep all day.” I scrub my palms over my face.

“Good plan. Let’s do that.”

His palms wander over my bare thighs, and I remind myself I still have a job to do. “You have to be in the studio today, remember?”

He groans again when I roll out of bed.

“I’ll see you later,” I promise, dropping a kiss on his lips and dodging his final attempt to pull me back into bed. I’d be happy to stay there all day with him, and it’s taking a lot of willpower to get moving.

He’s snoring again as I dress and let myself out of his room.

An hour later, after a shower and a massive cup of coffee, I’m settled at my desk and ready for the day. Before I can check my messages, my phone rings with a call from Anavrin.

“What the hell are you doing up this early?” I laugh. She is the worst morning person ever.

“Ugh, some old biddy just had to have a perm at the crack of dawn this morning. How was your weekend?” The teasing lilt in her voice makes me smile.

“Satisfying.”

“I’ll bet. I have another client due here in just a minute, but I want to hear all about it Saturday.”

Booting up my computer, I ask, “What’s Saturday?”

“Uh…your birthday? Foster and I have already taken the day off.”

Leave it to my friends to remember my birthday is close before I even realize it. “No clubbing,” I warn.

“Nope, how about mixed drinks, music, and board games at your place?”

A grin appears on my face. They really do know me. “Sounds great. Don’t buy me anything and tell Foster the same.”

“Fuck off with that. My client is here. I have to go. Love ya.”

“Love ya.”

I switch to my work phone and start going through messages, listening to voicemails. A couple of vendors have questions about the Labor Day Picnic, a local propane company wants to talk about a discount they’re offering to fill our tanks cheaper than their competitors, and the painters I hired to spruce up some of the buildings and gazebos remind me they’ll be starting tomorrow. It’s nothing out of the ordinary until I get to the last message.

An unfamiliar voice plays after the beep. “I’m trying to get a message to Kinley Matthews and since I can’t get past your gate, I guess this is the way. Kinley, this is your mother. I just got out and I need to talk to you. Call me at…”

She reads off the numbers, but I barely hear them. My heart beats in my ears, and I slam the phone down like it might infect me.

Okay, calm down, Kinley. It’s just a scam. It has to be. My mother has been dead since I was a baby. It’s just some lowlife after money or trying to get their face on T.V. since they’ve seen me in the gossip papers. Still, it’s unnerving. What kind of psycho does something like that?

My first thought is Clark. He can investigate and find out who she is, so we can keep her off the property. It barely takes him five minutes to show up at my door when I text him that I have a job for him.

Concern creases his brow at the sight of me. “Kinley, what is it? Did someone threaten you? If that asshole Singleton—”

“No, nothing like that. I got a weird message and, well, just listen.”

Clark’s lips press together as I play the message for him, and he takes a seat.

“She must be some nut case. Can you find out who she is?”

His heavy sigh fills the room and regret inundates his voice as he responds, “I know who she is. Your father swore me to secrecy, along with Harriet. I’m sorry.”

Nothing is connecting in my brain, but his reaction has my hands shaking and my stomach tight. He’s sorry for what?

“I don’t understand,” I whisper.

“He did it for your own good, Kinley. She was a terrible person, a greedy, malicious person who didn’t belong in your life.” He rubs his large palm over his jaw.

He can’t mean that…she can’t be…

“Her name is Heather Lanken. She’s your mother.”

The words seem to hang in the air until they slam into me, stealing my air and changing everything I’ve ever known in an instant.

My mother is dead.

She was killed when I was a baby.

I have no family now that my dad is gone.

I’m all that’s left.

There isn’t much in life I’m sure about, but that I know.

“My mother is dead,” I snap, glaring at Clark. Why is he doing this?

“No, honey, she’s not.” Harriet’s soft voice carries from the doorway where she lingers. Clark must’ve texted her. “Your father thought you’d be better off never knowing.” She sighs. “I told him this day would come, but he didn’t believe it.”

Silence dominates while they give me time to think, but my thoughts are so jumbled. Finally, I mutter, “Why? Why did he lie?”

Clark glances at Harriet, and she nods, entering the room. She takes a seat in the chair next to Clark, across the desk from me. “Heather embezzled a lot of money from Foxhaven. It was in the beginning when the resort was struggling to find its foothold. He ended up having to put a second mortgage on the place just to hold onto it, and it was a close call. When he told Heather he wanted a divorce, she took off. Everyone expected she’d be back, but after a year, he filed, and the divorce was granted. In her absence, the court gave your father full custody.”

All this happened when I was a toddler. So much I never knew. Never had any idea.

“He never heard from her again?”

Clark’s regretful gaze meets mine. “A few times over the years, she’d contact him, ask for money, threaten to take you away if he didn’t capitulate.”

“So, he paid her?”

“No. No court would’ve given you to her after an abandonment and with her criminal record. Last I heard, she was in prison for credit card fraud and identity theft.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“It’s true,” Harriet adds, making me realize I said the words aloud. “How you deal with her now that your father is gone is up to you, but you should know the truth. If she’s trying to get in touch with you now, she wants money, Kinley, I guarantee it.”

Scoffing, I sit back, anger overwhelming my other emotions. “I should’ve known the truth from the fucking beginning! Who else knows? Am I just a damned laughing stock around here with a hotel full of employees who know more about my family than I do?”

Harriet gazes at me for a few moments before replying, “No, Clark and I are the only ones who know. We were here when everything went down, and your father knew we loved you and considered you family.”

Getting to my feet, I exclaim, “Then why didn’t you tell me? After he was gone, you could’ve told me! At least let me know I’m not alone!”

Harriet rushes up to me and grabs my hands. “You aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone. Your father swore us to secrecy and I thought it wasn’t my place.” She sighs and swallows hard. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“If you’re my family, then it was definitely your place.” I hate the sound of my voice. Flat and robotic. A knot forms in my throat, and I’m attacked by so many emotions I don’t know what to feel. I’m hurt and angry. Devastated and shocked. But most of all, I’m confused. I have a mother. A living mother who wants to talk to me, and I have no idea what to do with that information. I need to be alone, to think.

“I have to get out of here,” I mumble, grabbing my cell and shoving it in my pocket.

As I leave the room, I hear Harriet call my name and Clark’s response.

“Let her be. Give her some time to wrap her head around it.”

Yeah, a mother rising from the dead generally gives a person pause.

Everyone and everything I pass is a blur as I rush out the back doors and down to the docks. “Everything okay, Kinley?” Lance, the young guy working the boathouse, asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just want a Kayak.”

“Sure thing. I’ll bring it out.”

His expression holds concern, but he’s smart enough not to question me. I walk back down to the dock, thankful there are no guests I have to chat with, and he shows up with the kayak.

“The life jacket is inside. And I threw a couple of bottles of cold water in as well. It’s pretty hot today.”

“Thanks.”

Five minutes later, I’m paddling away, into the serenity of the nature around me.

As if it knows I need the tranquility, the lake is calm, parting like liquid glass as the kayak slices through it. It helps to soothe the raging noise in my head as I attempt to put things into perspective.

I have a mother. Judging by what Harriet and Clark said, she’s not a good person, so I’m not sure what to do with the information. None of them have had any contact with her since I was a baby. What if she has changed? As much as I loved and trusted my dad, every relationship has two sides and the only people who know what really happened are him and my mother. Should I take Clark and Harriet’s word that she’s a bad person or meet her and judge for myself?

Look at all the horrible things I thought about Holt before I met him. I judged him by what others said and thought, and they were wrong. He hasn’t shown any of that behavior since I’ve known him. It’s like he’s a totally different person than what the media claimed. Maybe the same will prove to be true for her too.

And I’d have a mother. A living blood relative.

The sun climbs in the sky, reddening my skin as I drift around, arguing the pros and cons in my head. I find myself at the shore outside of my house where contractors are busy at work. I don’t want to disturb them, so I pull the kayak up on the beach and plop down into the sand.

I want to meet her. I know that much. I have so many questions and I need to see her for myself, see if we look alike, sound alike, if I got anything from this person who is a total stranger to me. It occurs to me that Holt would have some insight since he met his father as a teenager. If he had a chance to see his mother again, I’m sure he’d take it too.

My stomach growls and it’s no wonder, since it’s almost sunset and I’ve been out all day with nothing more than coffee and water to keep me going.

When I return to my Kayak, my phone buzzes, and I pick it up to see a bunch of missed messages and calls from Anavrin and Foster. They must know something is wrong. There’s also a message from Holt that he’ll see me tonight. I shoot off a quick text to Anavrin and Foster, letting them know I’m okay and I’ll call them later. I’ll just talk to Holt after I get cleaned up and eat something.

My arms scream at me when I paddle back toward Foxhaven. A sunburn was the least of my thoughts when I left, but I’m going to regret it the next couple of days. By the time I get up to my suite, grab a sandwich, and take a quick shower, I’m eager to talk to Holt and get his opinion on the whole crazy situation. And get him to rub some aloe on my increasingly sore arms and neck.

The thought of his hands on me brings a smile to my face for the first time all day as I slide the keycard into his door and pop it open. The sound of the shower reaches my ears, and I open my mouth to call out to him, but the words die in my throat.

There’s a woman in his bed.

A woman wearing nothing but skimpy lingerie and grinning in my direction. My brain stutters for a moment before I realize I recognize her.

Alicia Leath. The fake girlfriend. Only this doesn’t look so fake.

She seems completely unconcerned with being nearly naked as she says, “If you’re looking for Marcus, he’s in the shower. Had to get my perfume off of him.”

After everything else today, this is just too much. Part of me wants to beat the shit out of her, but what good would that do? I’m sure she knows about me from the gossip sites, just like I know about her, but she’s the girlfriend. All that he told me about it being fake was probably bullshit.

I’m the side chick.

How stupid can I be?

She called him Marcus, not Holt. Like Sully and his fans, she uses his first name. The thought tries to comfort me, like I’m at some different level of importance to him because I use his preferred name. How pathetic.

Without a word, I walk back out, pulling the door shut behind me and head back to my room.

Anavrin answers my call on the first ring and I ask, “Do you think I could stay with you for a couple of days? I need to get out of here.”

“Get your ass over here,” she replies without hesitation.

Everyone should have friends like mine.

Alicia must’ve let Holt know I came in and found her because he texts me before I even get to Anavrin’s.

Yeah, because that’s not what every man says in this situation.

Maybe that’s true, but if so, it’s only because he didn’t have the chance. I’m sure he wasn’t going to get out of the shower and insist she put some clothes on.

Finally, I text him back.

I mute my phone and shove it in my pocket.

A few days at Anavrin’s has helped me get myself in check, although I feel like I’m dragging through each day without Holt. It’s ridiculous because I should be much more concerned with the return of my mother than losing what was only a summer fling, at most. My heart doesn’t seem to care though.

I’ve stayed in touch with Clark and the managers to make sure nothing goes wrong at Foxhaven while I’m gone, and I’m surprised how smoothly things run without me now. Maybe I don’t have to micromanage so much.

Clark and Harriet both call to let me know that Holt is insisting on talking to me and asks after me multiple times a day. They don’t know what happened, and I’d rather not talk about it. Everyone saw it coming but me, and I feel stupid enough.

I also have more to worry about, and I’m almost grateful to have the mother situation going on to distract me. It took me a few days to get up the nerve to call her back, and I left a message on her voicemail this morning.

I want to meet her.

I’m sitting on Anavrin’s porch, debating on whether to head back home, when she calls me back.

“Kinley? I’m so happy to finally get to talk to you.”

My heart thrums in my chest. “I-me too.”

Her voice is thick with emotion. “I’ve thought about you every day. I wanted to get in touch so many times, but your dad wouldn’t allow it.”

My shaky hand fiddles with the edge of my shorts. “He told me you were dead.”

There’s a long pause before she asks, “When?”

“From the beginning. He said you died when I was a baby.”

She sighs into the phone. “So, you never got any of my letters or gifts?”

A knot forms in my throat at the thought that I had a mother out there who was trying to reach me all these years. “No, until you called, I thought you were gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Kinley. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I never wanted to leave you. Can I see you? I’ve seen pictures, and you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”

Tears spill over and run down my cheeks. “Are you busy today? We could meet at the coffee shop on Main?”

“Just name the time.”

“Three o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” she promises.

Anavrin sits down beside me as I end the call. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a million questions. She said she sent me letters and gifts. Why would Dad keep them from me? Keep her from me? Even if she stole from him, I had a right to know who she was, that she’s alive.”

It’s a terrible feeling, being angry at someone who is out of your reach, especially someone you loved and still grieve for.

“I don’t know, girl. I know your dad loved you more than anything though, so just…be careful. Let me go with you when you meet her.”

This is something I need to do by myself. I don’t want to worry about her judging, or what anyone else is thinking. “Thanks, but I want to meet her alone.” I get to my feet and Anavrin does the same. “Thanks for everything the last few days. I really needed to escape, you know?”

We hug, and she replies, “Anytime.”

“I’ve got to go. I’m meeting her at the coffee shop and I need to stop by Foxhaven to change first.”

She frowns but gives me a nod. “Call me tonight and let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

My trip in and out of Foxhaven is swift since I don’t want to run into Holt. It’s going to be hard to go back to being professional and distant around him, but it’s necessary. Luckily, he’s still at the studio when I rush in, change clothes, and hurry out to meet my mother.

Sitting at the coffee shop, scrutinizing the faces of the women who come in and out for a glimpse of myself, is so surreal. I’ve seen a few pictures of my mother when she was young, but I’m not sure I’d recognize her now.

Except I do.

The second she walks in, I get a glimpse of what I’ll look like in twenty years. She’s thin, almost painfully so, with the same brown eyes and hair as me, though her locks are a bit duller and streaked with a mix of gray.

A smile leaps to her face when I wave, and she rushes over, grabbing me in a hug before I’m completely out of my seat. “Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. I’ve missed you so much!”

We’re drawing uncomfortable stares from some of the customers surrounding us, maybe because tears leak down my cheeks again. Wiping them off, I sit down, and she sits across from me.

It’s awkward to say the least.

Neither of us seems to know what to say, so I go right for the hard stuff. “What really happened? Why do you think Dad lied to me about you?”

She sighs and fidgets with the napkin on the table. “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, but I never thought he’d do such a thing.”

“Clark said you embezzled from Foxhaven.”

Her lips press together. “Clark still works for Gerald?”

“For me, now, but yes.”

Her angry expression fades into a smile. “A business owner at such a young age. I couldn’t be prouder.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “I didn’t embezzle. Gerald and I had a joint account and I had as much right to the money as he did. It’s true I took some without his knowledge, and I shouldn’t have, but I was desperate. I owed some really bad people a lot of money and I was worried it might be dangerous for you and him, so I left.”

Tears form in her eyes. “It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, leaving you, but I always planned to come back once I knew it was safe. I didn’t expect Gerald to divorce me, but I still had hopes he’d change his mind and if not, I’d still have you.”

“Who did you owe? And for what?”

Blinking, she sits back. “I had a gambling problem back then. I got in over my head to some loan sharks who weren’t inclined to believe I couldn’t pay up when my husband was running a successful business. They wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt him or you to get what they wanted.”

Anxiety twists my insides. “Did you pay them off?” What if they’re still a danger to me?

“Yes, I was on my own with no job, trying to dodge them long enough to come up with a solution, and I cashed some fake checks in an attempt to pay them off. It worked, but I got caught by the bank and went to prison.”

“You went to prison for bad checks?”

“It was…a lot of money. I did a few years for it and hoped to return to your father when I got out, but he wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose I can’t blame him.”

I sip my now lukewarm coffee. “Didn’t you have a legal right to see me?”

“I hadn’t lost my parental rights, but I would’ve had to go to court to get visitation rights and I was broke. Just out of prison, on my own, with a minimum wage job and living in a halfway house.” She chews her bottom lip. “And I’m ashamed to say, I still had a problem with gambling. I kept thinking if I just got one good score, one lucky break, I’d be able to pay a lawyer, get a house, everything necessary to get you back. It led me right back into the world I was trying to escape, and I ended up in jail again. It’s been a cycle my whole life, Kinley, but I’ve finally broken it.”

Her eyes plead with me to believe her. “I have a job and while it doesn’t pay great, it keeps me housed and fed. I don’t gamble anymore. Not so much as a lottery ticket. I know it shouldn’t have taken me over half my life to get my shit together, but I finally have.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “You have every reason to hate me, but I hope you can forgive me. I want to get to know you, be there for you like I wasn’t through your childhood.”

The hope growing inside me sets off alarms in my brain. I need to be smart about this. I can’t just forget the entire past because I’d love to have family again. Slowly. This needs to go slowly.

“I’d like us to get to know each other too,” I offer, and she grins.

Her phone beeps, and she frowns at it. “I have to go into work early. Are you busy this weekend?”

Everything in me wants to remind her my birthday is this weekend, but I can’t do it. That’s the minimum a parent should know, and I feel a wave of disappointment washing away some of my hope. “I’m free Sunday.”

We both get to our feet and share another hug. “Great. I’ll call you and we can decide what to do, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

I flop back down at the table after she leaves, emotionally exhausted, my mind spinning with doubt and anxiety. All I want is to talk to Dad and the fact I’ll never be able to again is a punch to the stomach.

Holt was right about that. No matter how much better you think you’re doing, grief sneaks up on you in a hundred different ways.

Holt.

I hate to admit, even to myself how much I want to talk to him right now and get his opinion on all of this. He’s messaged and called quite a few times over the last few days, swearing nothing happened with Alicia, and wanting a chance to explain in person. It doesn’t matter. Even if I believed him—which I don’t, women don’t lounge half naked in a guy’s bed to play checkers—I know we need to end this anyway.

I hate the way I feel, that I miss him and think about him. I hate that every time I picture Alicia in his bed, I’m eaten up with jealousy. Yeah, we had an agreement not to fuck other people while we were hooking up, but it still wasn’t supposed to be serious. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings and I clearly have. The farther away from him I am, the better.

Tonight seems like a perfect night to do something I don’t usually permit myself to do—eat my feelings. On my way back to Foxhaven, I stop at a grocery store for a box of donuts and a bag of chips. I’m just going to hole up in my room for the night, watch trash T.V. and try not to think or feel anything.

Luckily, Holt isn’t back yet when I return and head up to my room. Clark and Harriet both stop by, but I assure them I’m okay, and I’ll talk to them later. The next few hours are spent watching three vampire cousins fight over a woman they all love on TV and trying to put myself into a sugar coma.

When I finally drag myself to bed, I’m exhausted, but sleep just can’t find me. I can’t stop picturing Holt a few floors away, alone in his bed. Or worse, wrapped around Alicia or some groupie. It’s not my business anymore, but that doesn’t stop a few scalding tears from leaking down my cheeks.

Stupid rock star with his stupid charming ways and stupid sexy smile.