Picture Perfect Lie Read online

  PICTURE PERFECT LIE

  Copyright © 2018 by Marquita Valentine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design: Hang Le

  Editing: Cynthia Shepp Editing

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Picture Perfect Lie (Kings of Castle Beach)

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 | Knight

  Chapter 2 | Campbell

  Chapter 3 | Knight

  Chapter 4 | Campbell

  Chapter 5 | Knight

  Chapter 6 | Campbell

  Chapter 7 | Campbell

  Chapter 8 | Knight

  Chapter 9 | Campbell

  Chapter 10 | Campbell

  Chapter 11 | Knight

  Chapter 12 | Campbell

  Chapter 13 | Knight

  Chapter 14 | Campbell

  Chapter 15 | Campbell

  Chapter 16 | Knight

  Chapter 17 | Campbell

  Chapter 18 | Knight

  Chapter 19 | Campbell

  Chapter 20 | Knight

  Chapter 21 | Campbell

  Chapter 22 | Knight

  Chapter 23 | Campbell

  Epilogue | Knight

  More Books by Marquita Valentine

  About the Author

  Picture Perfect Lie

  Kings of Castle Beach, book 1

  Marquita Valentine

  All Campbell Faircloth wanted was a safe place to call home.

  All Knight King wanted was to leave his hometown behind.

  I never expected to end up in Castle Beach, surrounded by a family who believes I’m not only their brother’s wife, but also the mother of his infant daughter.

  I can’t tell them the truth—Knight and I only met three days earlier, during a layover in Atlanta.

  He was headed out to fight in a war that hardly anyone talked about anymore, and I was going back home to a family who pretended I didn’t exist.

  He helped me with my baby.

  He kept us safe while we slept.

  We shared lunch and dinner... and I spilled all my secrets to him.

  Then he gave me an address, along with an offer I couldn’t refuse.

  SIX MONTHS LATER, HE’S back to bury his brother, and my lie is about to be exposed.

  Only Knight doesn’t say a word.

  He goes along with the charade, and each day we spend together, pretending to be husband and wife, it’s getting harder and harder not to believe in our lie.

  Could our picture-perfect lie turn into a picture-perfect forever?

  Prologue

  “Do you really have to leave?” Laird asks, his blue eyes dim. At only thirteen, he’s all gangly limbs and braces.

  I ruffle his dirty-blond hair and wish like hell I could give him a different answer. “Yeah, but I won’t be gone long. Soon as basic training is over, I’ll be back for a visit.”

  It’s a lie, but I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t ruin the beach for him. He’s had his life ruined enough in the last month.

  We’re in his favorite spot, sitting on a log that washed up nearly to the sand dunes. Unlike me, it seems to be here for good. No amount of hurricane-force winds or rising tides can move it from this spot.

  He shrugs, then lifts a piece of sand glass to his lips, whistling sharply. “Maybe I should join the Army.”

  Your heart couldn’t take it, I want to say, but I don’t. No need to insult him or diminish his giving nature. Even at eighteen, I know this about my little brother. In the not-too-distant past, some might have accused me of possessing the same kind of heart.

  Only, I don’t have a choice.

  I can’t stay here and live off my name. Hell, there’s not much money behind our name anymore as it is. The IRS tends to frown on not paying taxes.

  And our father’s accountant didn’t pay taxes on the family shipping business for years before the government caught wind of it.

  “Maybe you should work on your pitch. I heard Coach tell mom you could play up a level this summer,” I say, focusing on the ocean.

  Waves rise and fall.

  The clean scent of the water rushes over me.

  Every now and then, I get a whiff of brine and diesel from the ships that are in port.

  “I guess so.” He shifts beside me. “Knight, I want ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

  Knots form in my stomach, so big and heavy I can’t move. “What’s that?”

  He turns. Because I know I have to look at him, I face him. “Why did Daddy...” He swallows, and his big eyes fill with tears. “Why did he have to ... with the gun... Why?”

  I throw my arm around his bony shoulders, not saying anything. What can I say about our dad’s suicide? I’m only eighteen for fuck’s sake. Our oldest brother Duke is way more equipped in handling shit like this. Hell, even Deacon or Baron—

  “Knight?” he whispers. “Should I talk to Quinn?”

  “Nah. Give me a second.” I lick my lips, salt flavoring my tongue. Looking away from him, I stare at the sandpipers as they run from the water crashing on the beach. “Sometimes... people feel like there’s no other way out.”

  Laird doesn’t reply, so I peek at him. Big tears drip down his face, but he’s not making a sound.

  “That morning, I told Daddy I was mad he didn’t go to my last soccer game,” he blurts, his body caving in on itself. “I broke one of his stupid ships, too.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You can’t...” I run out of words, then regroup. “Which ship?”

  “Queen Anne’s Revenge.”

  His favorite model ship. “Damn.”

  Laird snorts. “Daddy didn’t yell at me, ground me... or anything.”

  “You want me to?”

  He nods, his breath shaky as he exhales. “Yeah.”

  “Fine. You’re grounded for life. Never leave you room, especially not to moon over girls.”

  “Girls are annoying.”

  “Especially Ophelia,” I agree, just to see what he says. Ophelia is what a lot of people would call touched in the head. She sees fairies, mermaids, and sprites, believes that statues come to life during the full moon. Can’t really blame her, though—she basically takes care of herself and her crazy momma.

  None of that matters to Laird, though.

  He thinks the sun rises and sets because of her... and I’m not going to tell him to get over his crush. Laird needs something pure to hold on to right now.

  He jerks back. “No. She’s different.”

  I hold up my hands, relieved he took the bait. I can totally bust his balls for liking a girl. Pretty sure there’s a rule for brothers about that. “Hey, you asked me to punish you.”

  “I want a different punishment,” he mutters.

  I think about it for a moment. “How about you get Queen Anne fixed?”

  “Not enough money.”

  “Learn how to do it yourself.”

  He squints at me. “Like from a book?”

  “Yeah, they have this place called the library. For some reason, that’s where people like to keep books.” I nudge him in
the side. “I heard it’s even open after school.”

  He grins, the teeth along the side of his gums either missing or growing in. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” I stand up, brushing off the back of my shorts. “Ready to go home?”

  “I am now. Thanks, Knight.” He jumps to his feet, running down to the shore and chasing the seagulls away.

  They fly up into the air, calling out to their bird friends.

  A smile kicks up the corner of my mouth. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see,” I whisper.

  Chapter 1

  Knight

  10 years later

  The sound of seagulls crying wakes me.

  I blink a few times, check the time, and then sit up straighter in the chair I parked my ass in two hours earlier.

  I’d been dreaming of Laird again.

  “Little brother, what did you do?” I mutter, hunching over to stare at the floor. It’s been a week since Laird took his boat out.

  A week since his wife kissed him goodbye.

  A week since he showed up for work.

  A week since the Coast Guard started a search-and-rescue mission.

  My phone buzzes. I pull it from my pocket, reading the message from my sister.

  Quinn: They’ve downgraded the search for Laird. They’re making an official announcement tomorrow.

  My brows crash together. The fuck?

  Me: Why?

  Quinn: It’s been too long. The weather’s been too cold.

  In other words, our little brother either drowned or died from hypothermia, and the Coast Guard can’t keep wasting its resources on a body they can’t find.

  My gut clenches.

  My stomach turns.

  My heart squeezes.

  After dozens of missions, most would think I’d get used to death. Used to the futility of helping someone as they lay dying in my arms... but Laird... Laird was—is—my little brother. The ultimate good human, who had a smile for everyone and never left anyone in need.

  Quinn: They did their best, but Momma isn’t in a good place... and Ophelia won’t leave the beach.

  Frustration burns through my veins. I can’t do a damn thing about it, and even if I could, would it be welcome?

  Still, the part of me that still feels loyalty to my family forces me to respond.

  Me: Let me know what I can do.

  Quinn: From the other side of the world?

  Me: I’m trying.

  Quinn: I know. I miss your face.

  My jaw works. I miss her, too.

  Hell, if I’m honest, I miss my entire family, but it’s been years since we were together. Years since I sat down with them for a Sunday dinner or attended our old high school’s homecoming game.

  At one time, we Kings were inseparable.

  Quite frankly, we were trouble with a capital T.

  Me: Miss you, Q. As soon as I can, I’ll come visit.

  I’m mostly lying because I have no desire to go back to Castle Beach, but if our family has a funeral for Laird, I’ll be there.

  For him.

  Quinn: Suuure you will.

  Me: Don’t you have a guy to nag or nails to do?

  Quinn: Whatever. Stop being a stranger.

  Me: Later, Q.

  I tuck my phone away and lean back in my seat again, scanning the area for my buddies. Most of them have gone, probably to the food court, but they left behind coats and other personal items because the seating areas all around us are packed.

  “Attention passengers of Flight 234, we are delayed for another two hours. Thank you for your patience and thank you for flying...”

  I tune out as soon as she thanks us.

  Two more hours to kill while we wait out an ice storm up north, where our connecting flight is coming from.

  My eyes close.

  Seagulls start crying again.

  Wait. Not seagulls.

  A baby.

  Opening my eyes, I spot a woman at the fringes of the gate, holding a baby while she paces. She’s petite and slender to the point that a gust of wind could blow her away. Long, pale hair hides her face. Her head is down, slim neck curved.

  Another woman bumps into her. She stumbles, then rights herself just as I coil into action.

  Pushing her hair out of her face, she snaps, “Your non-apology is accepted,” at the well-dressed woman’s back.

  I settle down, thinking she’s got it handled... but then I see her lips tremble and the purple shadows under her eyes. They collide with mine for a split second, and my breath catches.

  I don’t know what gives me pause more—her gorgeous face or the fact she looks tired as shit.

  Hopeless.

  At the end of her rope.

  I know all about that fucking look. It’s the one my mom had for years after my dad killed himself. I’ve always hated myself a little for not being able to help her, for not doing more... for moving away from Castle Beach. Holidays were the worst. Everything reminded her of him—especially Laird and Deacon... and now... now Laird is missing.

  The woman starts toward an empty chair, but before she can get there, an elderly man wearing a World War II Veteran hat sits down. He sees her and tries to rise, his voice frail. “Young lady, you can have my seat.”

  “No, no. I’m fine.” Her smile is genuine, even as her eyes grow sadder. “Thank you for your service.”

  “Nonsense. There’s no way I’ll let a lady, especially with a baby, stand on my watch.” He starts to rise, and I make my move. No way can I let either of them suffer.

  “Hey, sweetheart. I finally found some seats for us.” Smiling, I extend my hand to the old vet. He takes it. “Thank you, sir, for looking out for my wife and baby.”

  “Anytime, young man. Anytime.”

  I glance at the blonde and wink, then give her a friendly smile as I herd her away from the vet. “Our seats aren’t very far at all. Just a couple of rows over.”

  Her chin tilts up, dark brown eyes assessing, even as she whispers, “If I say yes, what do I have to do for you?”

  Okay, not the response I thought I’d get. “Not a thing. Except you might have to listen to me crunch ice in a few.” I haven’t eaten lunch yet, and since I’m going to be here for a while...

  She bites her bottom lip. For some reason, I know it’s because she wants to smile. “I like to crunch ice, too.”

  I give her my most charming smile before nodding at the large bag hanging from her arm. “Need help with your things?”

  She shakes her head. “I got it.”

  “Right this way.” I lead her to the row of seats my buddies and I commandeered, then start to shove Boston’s shit out of one. “Here you go.”

  “Won’t your friend mind?” she says, hesitating.

  “Nope.” It’s the truth. Boston would fall all over himself to help her.

  “Okay. Thanks.” She exhales. “You did a really nice thing back there for us and for him.”

  “So did you.” I hold her gaze for a beat or two, enjoying the moment, this connection we have. It’s odd, but I like it. Or it could be perfectly normal because I’m heading off to a war zone. “I’m Knight King, by the way.”

  “Campbell Faircloth.” Finally, she sits and adjusts the baby in her arms. “You sound like you’re from around here.”

  “Nah, I’m from up North.”

  She gives me a look. “I know when I hear a fellow southerner.”

  “Do you also know when you hear someone from North Carolina?” Yeah, it’s a corny joke, but it’s worked in the past when I needed to break the ice. “Castle Beach to be exact.”

  Campbell dips her head, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

  “Go on and laugh at my joke. Promise it won’t hurt.” I want to put her at ease, let her know she not only has nothing to worry about with me, but also that I’m not hitting on her. Just being a decent person.

  “When you tell a joke, I’ll laugh.”

  I raise my brows a little. Whatever is wearing
her down, it hasn’t done away with the sass that every southern woman I know possesses. “Deal.”

  The baby starts crying again.

  “Thanks for the seat, but I need to walk.” She gets up slowly, reminding me of my grandmother after hip-replacement surgery. “It’s okay, Hazel. Shh.”

  I hear her stomach growl and see her cheeks flush.

  “Have you eaten lunch?” I ask.

  She glances back at me, surprise all over her face. “Not since breakfast.” She smashes her lips together and a guilty look enters her brown eyes, like she’s just revealed state secrets. “But I’m not hungry.”

  Her stomach growls again, proving her a liar.

  I raise my brows again, giving her stomach a pointed look.

  “Okay, so I’m not that hungry.”

  “Uh-huh.” Here’s the thing, I can spot a liar a mile away... aaaand it also helps when the person admits they’re lying. “I’m going to the food court. Anything you can’t eat?”

  Her jaw firms and her chin tips up, like she’s getting ready to tell me to go to hell... “Onions. Peppers. Caffeine.”

  “Got it.” I grab my jacket and replace it with her bag. “Don’t go anywhere. Your bag is saving our seat... and we can’t let”—I jerk my thumb at the veteran—“him think I’m a liar.”

  Campbell doesn’t reply, so I take her nonresponse as permission to not only buy lunch but also to trust she’ll be here when I get back. Still, I haul ass and manage to get back in less than ten minutes.

  My heart pounds as I make my way back to the gate. It doesn’t calm down even when I spot her, still walking in tight circles. None of my buddies have come back yet. Most likely, they heard the announcement and decided to head to the sports bar near gate eleven.

  “Ready to eat?” I ask Campbell as I carefully place the drinks and bags of food on the floor in front of the chair. “Figured we could have a picnic.”

  She nods, her nose buried in the blankets covering the baby.

  “You can put Hazel down on the floor beside us. I’ll help watch her.”

  Her brown eyes narrow. “How do you know her name?”

  “Why wouldn’t I know my daughter’s name?” I tease.

  “Not funny.”

  “Heard you say it.”

  Those chocolate eyes round back out. “Oh. Makes sense.” She sits on the floor, but she keeps the baby in her lap. “I’ll hold her. The carpet has to be disgusting.”