Faked - Karla Sorensen Page 0,35

need to have the opportunity to reach the kids who need them the most, and that's not always the kids who live in the immediate vicinity to the physical location. That's why a lot of athletes, for example, coordinate with different school districts to bus kids in for larger events. If you're limited to one geographical area, you're limited in the number of kids you can help."

My dad nodded. "She's right. We seem to be plateauing the past few years. We'd love to broaden our reach, but we've just lacked the resources to be able to do so."

Richard watched them both, and his eyes tracking back and forth between the two with interest. "You've probably been to hundreds of those events over the years, haven't you, Lia?"

She blinked at the use of her sister's name, and my hand slid down to her shoulder. She relaxed slightly.

"I have. My brother never started his own foundation, but we've supported so many of his friends', it's hard to keep them straight."

"I'd wager he was pretty busy raising you and your sisters," Richard said. "With your mom leaving like she did."

Claire swallowed carefully. "He was. Not many people know details of our background, though. He kept our life very private for that reason."

I increased the pressure of my fingers on her shoulder, just letting her know I was there.

I knew a little bit of what the Ward sisters had been through from Finn, but it sounded like Richard knew even more. Logan practically raised them, and his brother—Claire's other half brother—wasn't really in their lives much because he and Logan didn't get along. But the reasons, well, they'd never interested me much.

Until now.

Richard's tone was sympathetic, but I still gave him careful study at the fact he knew about it in the first place. He must have seen something in my eyes because he held up his hands and smiled. "Sorry, didn't know I was stepping into anything I shouldn't. I thought it was common knowledge, if one cared to dig deep enough."

"It's not," I told him quietly. "And not everyone enjoys talking about the things in their childhood that sucked."

Claire exhaled slowly and gave me a small smile.

"It's okay, Bauer," she said. "And there's no reason to apologize, Richard. If someone dug enough, they'd know that Brooke decided being a mother wasn't what she wanted to do. My sisters and I were fortunate to have someone like Logan who loved us enough to be exactly what we needed. But not all kids have that. And I think it's admirable for people like Adele and Robert to try to help children who don't have another family member to do what my brother did."

Richard relaxed back into his seat. "And I'm guessing that influenced your educational choices."

She nodded. "It did."

"What do you hope to do someday?"

Adele gave me a look that I couldn't decipher. Claire shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Right. Lia Ward was not a developmental psychology major, and the further he got to Claire as her sister, the more tangled the knot might become.

"She's going to save hopeless wretches like you and me, Richard," I said, easing a hand up Claire's back.

He smiled, as intended, spreading his arms wide. A king showing off his kingdom. "Do I need saving?"

"Maybe from your decorating skills, but that's about it," I told him.

Adele sucked in a breath, and Claire rolled her lips between her teeth.

After a beat of silence, Richard's booming laughter echoed off the cathedral ceiling.

And thankfully, that broke the mood while we wrapped up dinner.

Everything stayed fairly surface level with small talk about Seattle and Vancouver as we moved to the family room and the roaring fire. As Richard regaled Adele and my father with tales of his outlandish, over-the-top life, I stared out the windows. Outside the wall of glass, you could practically see the cold front move in.

The water took on an eerie stillness when the air went frigid. Sitting next to Claire on a puffy, horrible loveseat, I kept my arm across the back of the furniture and tried to block out everything except the view out the window and the woman next to me. Her legs were curled up into her chest, so we weren't touching, but almost.

Almost.

I never should have concocted my little tale about our first kiss. All I could imagine now was a dark kitchen, Claire tugging me down with fists clenched in my shirt, pushing my back against a fridge door and having her way with me.

Because