The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,67

me, I could see that she knew too. That we’d both known a long time ago, and shit had just gotten between us. It took work to make it work though.

We finally pulled off of the main road and drove through glittering Southampton. Lark directed us the rest of the way to the Kensington Cottage, which she’d claimed was a beautiful house on the shoreline. I’d only ever heard stories about the Hamptons. That it was where celebrities and rich New Yorkers went to summer. It had always felt too surreal to even consider. Even more surreal to be here.

“This one,” Lark said from the back, pointing at a house.

We pulled up in front of what appeared to be an enormous mansion, and my jaw dropped. “I thought you said this was a cottage.”

“Don’t you know cottage is just rich people terminology for mansion?” Gavin said with a laugh as he pulled into the driveway.

The place was three stories high and looked to have dozens of bedrooms. It was sprawled on a giant lot with ample privacy from any neighbors. There was wealthy, and then there was Kensington wealthy, apparently.

“Holy shit,” I breathed when I stepped out of the car.

Whitley whistled too. “Yeah, damn. So glad my client wanted to move her breast implants to next weekend. This house is way better.”

Lark just beamed at me. “Wait until you see the inside.”

Gavin and I grabbed the bags and hauled them up the steps and inside. I dropped my duffel, and my eyes widened. Holy fucking hell. It was like stepping into a magazine spread. I’d only ever dreamed of designing and building something like this. My dad’s business tended to do more basic work. Monotonous work with little imagination. But sometimes, we got wealthy Chapel Hill clients who wanted our top-end lines, and we’d have some fun with it. I rarely missed construction work, but looking at this house made me wonder if I should have gone into architecture like my dad had wanted.

“Are you still breathing?” Lark asked with a laugh.

I shook out of my stupor. “Sometimes, the construction eye comes out. This house is…a marvel.”

“I know nothing of construction and totally agree. It’s probably my favorite house I’ve ever stayed in. And all my friends and my parents have properties in the Hamptons. Nothing beats the Kensington Cottage.”

I could see that.

Then English appeared out of a back doorway. She rushed toward Lark, pulling her into a hug. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been cooped up with him for two days, and it’s been…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t think of words to describe how awful it was to have been here this long with Court.

“You used to work with rockstars. You’ve had to pay off prostitutes and keep sex tapes out of the news. You convinced that one guy to have his wife say she was sick to explain her absence and had her agree not to divorce him for sleeping with other men until after his movie premiered.”

English sighed. “I regret telling you about my profession.”

“Court cannot be worse than that.”

“He’s not. He’s a different kind of terrible.” She shrugged. “All of those people wanted my help. Court would rather throw his reputation and everything to deal with Jane in a burning building that he’d lit on fire himself.”

“You’ll get to him,” Lark said.

“Come on. I need your help with something before the shoot tomorrow.” She looked up at me. “You don’t mind if I borrow her, do you?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll just go find Court.”

“Okay, great! He’s out back,” English said and then yanked a reluctant Lark down a hallway.

I abandoned the bags, figuring I’d find out where we were sleeping later, and went in search of Court. I walked through the living room, past the dining room, peeked into the fucking insane kitchen, and then stepped through the back door. The view took my breath away. A giant deck with a large pool and hot tub. Past that was the Atlantic Ocean, waves breaking along the beach.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Yeah, it’s nicer than the city views right now,” Court said.

I turned to find him lounging in a chair with a beer in his hand. He was looking out toward the ocean, his gaze distant.

“Hey,” I said. “I can’t believe you grew up like this.”

He shrugged. “It was a total hardship.”

“I can see that,” I said sarcastically.

He grinned up at me. There was something of the spark of Court Kensington in