Faked - Karla Sorensen Page 0,48

tasted the sauce, then added some salt, I laughed at that picture. "Like what?"

Carefully, she set the salt down and turned to face me, one hip hitched on the counter. "I'll make you deal, Bauer."

"What's that?"

"A question for a question." One eyebrow raised slowly in challenge. "You deflect every single time I ask about your past, so if you want to know about mine, then I'll make it an even trade."

I crossed my arms over my chest and held her stare. "Some people feel more comfortable than others talking about their childhood. Mine wasn't traumatic or anything, but that doesn't mean I want to spill my guts over spaghetti and candlelight."

At my answer, which was meant to be flippant and casual, Claire's face flashed with disappointment, and a small seed was planted behind my ribs. Something uncomfortable and unwanted. But it found someplace to stick, dig itself beneath the surface of whatever armor I'd erected around the parts of myself that still felt like I needed to prove how unhurt I was by my dad and Adele's treatment.

"Truth or dare," I amended. My version of a peace offering. "I'll play, but I can't guarantee I'll answer everything."

Claire weighed that for a long moment, face thoughtful, body language relaxed. "Deal."

While she finished dinner, I set the table with two dark blue plates I found in the pantry and added some wood to the fire. Outside, the wind picked up, whipping through the trees until they swayed side to side. Still, Claire hadn't said I told you so for the fact that we were stuck here. Because into day two of this ridiculous storm, we were poised to get over thirteen inches. The accumulating snow wasn't even what kept us stuck until it died down. Right now, it was the fact that they were so focused on clearing main roads that places like Scotty's along Lion's Bay were way down on the totem pole.

Claire drained the pasta, releasing a cloud of steam into the air. I got up to find us something to drink.

I crouched in front of the pantry, watching Agnes warily as she slinked across the wall in my direction. "Do you know if he has any alcohol hidden in this place?" I asked the cat.

She sat on her haunches and started licking a paw. But she didn't hiss at me, so I shrugged. I gave it one last look but decided Scotty must hate himself since there wasn't so much as a single bottle of anything in the entire place. Maybe that's why he still managed to do what he did physically even though he was over sixty.

"I couldn't find anything fun to drink," I told Claire as she set the bowl of pasta in the middle of the small table. "So water it is."

"I find proper hydration fun."

"As do I." I took a seat opposite her and gave her a smile. "Thank you for making dinner."

Her cheeks flushed pink. "No problem."

The food was delicious, and I groaned happily at my first bite of the sauce-covered noodles. "This is incredible."

"Why don't you ever go home to Seattle?" she asked without any preamble.

The noodles lodged in my throat when I coughed in surprise. After a hefty drink of water, I was able to swallow. When I was finally able to speak, my voice was rough. You know, from almost choking to death. "Jumped right in, eh?"

"It's my turn."

I sat back in my chair and studied her. "Seattle isn't my home anymore. It hasn't been for a long time. I moved to Whistler when I was eighteen and never looked back."

"Why don't you and Adele get along?"

"Oooh, no dice, you don't get two questions in a row."

Claire tilted her head. "You asked me at least four before we agreed to this. I think I've earned two."

Bracing my elbows on the table, I leaned forward and held her gaze. "Why does it bother you so much to figure me out?"

Claire didn't brush off my question like I expected her to, blaming it on her major or her own background with a mother figure that was no relation, she just searched my face. "I think sometimes I'm just as curious about the people who inflict the damage on children as the children themselves. So, while I don't know Adele very well, I'd never have pegged her as someone to hold the sins of another woman onto an innocent child."

"I was never innocent," I answered easily. "I did some boundary pushing of my own