Innocent Lies, Page 2

  I threw a shawl around me before answering the door. Suddenly, the low-neck line and tight fit of my dress seemed a little too revealing. After all, it wasn’t like I wanted to give him any ideas. Heck, who was I kidding? Maybe I finally found a man that I would have enjoyed being around.

  Ethan stood in the hallway for longer than was comfortable. His gaze moved up and back down my body more than once. I fiddled with my shawl trying hard to hide the fact his mere presence made my whole body go berserk.

  I noticed his outfit and suddenly wanted to change. He’d worn a faded tee-shirt with some rock group’s emblem on it and a pair of blue jeans with a small rip on his left knee. He was mouth-watering, and I felt the attraction deep in the pit of my stomach.

  “Damn Dylan, I don’t think a girl has ever been more beautiful.” He lightly pushed a stray hair off my forehead, and molested me with his eyes. My breathing stopped as he placed a light kiss on my right cheek.

  “Breathe, beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. He took two steps closing the gap between us. My stomach quivered at his close proximity. His eyes darkened as they swept over me one more time. I wanted to ask him if I needed to change, but putting so much effort into breathing, I couldn’t manage to speak.

  He fingered a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of my bun. “This is more than I bargained for.”

  “What did you bargain on?” I asked.

  “Not feeling like this,” he answered, sliding his arm around my waist and stroking his hand down my lower back. That was when I usually pulled away. I couldn’t pull away from him. It felt too good. I felt the warmth pouring off his muscular chest; smelled the intoxicating scent of his aftershave.

  “Ethan, we need to go.” I reluctantly squirmed out of his arms. I started to switch off the lights when his hand held mine.

  “Leave it on. You never know when you might need to see what you’re walking into.”

  I’d never left a light on. An upbringing of never knowing if or when you will eat, much less live, made one very economical. However, something about the way his eyes went suddenly cold left me with a dread of coming home to the dark. He tightened the grip he had over my hand and pulled me into the hallway. He took the keys from my hand and locked the door. After checking if it was locked twice, he placed the keys in his back pocket.

  “Are you planning on giving me back my keys?”

  “Maybe, if the night goes as planned, you might not need them.”

  I backed away from him, needing them right then and there. It was quite obvious he had me wrong. I was not the type of girl that dropped her panties for every guy with a dazzling smile and charming personality.

  “Ethan, I think I need those keys now. I’m not the girl you think I am.”

  He gripped my wrist and pulled me taut against him. “You have no idea what I think.”

  He released my hair from the tight bun it was wrapped in. My heart skipped more than one beat. He smirked and started gingerly wrapping my hair around his hand. I broke out in a sweat. I had not had a man handle me like that, well, ever. He was tender and had an extra softness to his touch. I tried to remind myself he was not one of the men who had hurt me beyond repair. However, there was something in his face that reminded me so much of the one who had hurt me the most.

  A tear fell down my cheek. For some reason, my emotions were hardwired to my tear ducts. I always cried when I was scared or frightened. One of the many humiliating facts I hated about myself. After slowly winding my hair around his hand and wrist, he tugged on my hair, bringing my eyes up to lock with his.

  “I think you’re a beautiful lady. I have daydreamed about how your lips taste.” He tickled his fingertips down my arm. I shivered. “I love how responsive your body is.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.” I shoved him hard, almost making him tip over. He stumbled against the wall. I reached in his back pocket and pulled out my keys. I fumbled with the keyring trying to find the house key. When suddenly, he pushed me against the door with his body. I felt his breath on my neck, his hand trailing down my waist. My heart raced as my breathing quickened.

  “Calm down, beautiful, I’m not here to bag you. There is something so appealing about you. I just want to know you.” He lightly kissed my cheek. “Have I asked you to sleep with me?”

  I shook my head no.

  “I’ve gone back to that pizza place every day since I saw you, wanting to meet you. Yes, I’m a touchy person and a little overbearing when I see something I want. And oh, babe, I want you. I won’t touch you again tonight. I set up a telescope in an open field right down the road. Tonight, the sky is perfectly clear, and I wanted to share this with you.”

  Something about him made my overactive self-preservation malfunction. Hell, I wanted him touching me more than I ever wanted to be touched before. So against my better judgment, I unlocked the door and invited him in. “Have a seat. I’m going to change into warmer clothes.” I motioned to the couch. He smiled. He had a warm smile, which made me feel safe. “You promise me hands off?”

  He held up both his hands in the air and wiggled his fingers. “As much as they love touching you, I will keep them to myself.”

  I nodded to him and headed to my room. I threw on a green sweater, green has always been my color, and a pair of jeans. I sat at the vanity and fluffed out my hair that he had released from its tight bun.

  I noticed my cheeks had a rosy glow. What is this guy doing to me? Hearing a tap at the bedroom door, I turned to find him resting against the door-jam, one leg crossed over the other, watching me. His eyes held an unrecognizable look. I couldn’t tell if he was happy, mad, or unsure of me. I stood up and smoothed my sweater down.

  “I’m sorry for being so forward earlier. I’m a forceful person. I’m used to getting what I want. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

  I shook my head and lowered it.

  “See, I’m not all bad.” He took six even, but long steps across the room until he hovered over me. His stance had an unsettling air of confidence. He cupped his hands around my face, the tips of his fingers caressed along my cheekbone. Raising my head, he forced me to look up at him. “I won’t touch you again. At least not until you beg me.” He smirked. “But beautiful, you need to realize what a tempting force you are.” He stroked his thumb over my lip before letting his hands slip away.

  I wanted to place them back on my face. I also wanted to kick myself for letting him affect me that way.

  Ethan was quiet the entire ride. He seemed to be mulling over something. There was something seriously off with him. So what? I found that for once in my life I didn’t want to go numb. Something about being near him made me want to live. He pulled off the road near a large wheat field, slid out of the car still without a word, and came around to open the door for me. There was not a tree within acres to block the view of the clear night sky.

  “Ethan, it’s beautiful, but couldn’t we have found a site closer to home?”

  He shook his head. “This is my field. I bought it a few months ago. It’s where I have my telescope set up. You’ll love it. You can watch the loveliness of the night sky, and I will watch the loveliness that is Dylan Summers.”

  He led me to a blanket. It was quite obvious he had been there earlier in the day. An unopened can of beer still laid on the ground.

  “Sorry, I should’ve cleaned up.” He kicked the can and straightened the blanket. I laid down and smiled when he laid beside me. He hooked his pinky around mine. Spread out in every direction was a cloak of the brightest stars I’ve ever seen. But what made my heart jump in my chest was the simple contact between us.

  “It’s beautiful. I now see why you brought me out here.”

  “It is beautiful. The most beautiful sight in the world.”

  My cheeks turned bright red. It was not the sky he was describing. He made it clear by the way his eyes bored into me. We went the longest time with me taking in the night sky and him tracing every feature of my face with his eyes. O
ccasionally, he would lift his pinky and let it graze over the side of my hand.

  He taught me how to use the telescope. He got within inches of me. I felt his breath on my neck more than once, but true to his words . . . except for his pinky . . . he never touched me. I wanted him too. I moved multiple times, trying to scrape my hand over his. But as if he could read my mind, he moved in unison. He showed me Mars, the Milky Way, and numerous other galaxies. I loved his excitement as he described the different aspects of the night sky.

  “Why didn’t you become an astronomer? You obviously love this stuff.” I asked, and reclined back on the ground next to him. I turned on my side to face him, loving the look of peace he had on his face as he stared into space.

  “My dad. He always thought this stuff was for dreamers. And dreamers were of no use to him.”

  I started tracing a star tattoo he had at the base of his thumb. I had never met someone who made me feel so complete and calm. “How many tats do you have?”

  He shrugged his shoulders but never looked my way. I wanted to touch his face and smooth his brows that he had furrowed together. It was apparent that he had something on his mind. I was curious if he would ever let me break through the tough exterior he had going.

  “I don’t know how to answer that. I have multiple tats, but I have added to and changed so many, it’s hard to say how many individual tats I do have.”

  My hand moved up his arm to the tribal tattoo I saw peeking out from under his dress shirt the first time I saw him. “I’ve never known a bloodsucker with tats.” I smiled and curled up to him, placing my head on his chest.

  “Bloodsucker? Is that what you think I am?” He started to wrap his arm around me, but let it fall back to the ground.

  “I don’t really like lawyers. I’m sorry.” I wiggled beside him, wanting him to hold me.

  “Me either.” He paused and sucked on his bottom lip. “My brother is a tattoo artist. This is the reason for all the tats. I was the little brother he used for practice.”

  “A lawyer and a tattoo artist . . . odd combo. Your mom must be so proud.” I started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “Hold me.”

  “He wanted to make real money. I wanted to help people.” He squeezed me against him, still never shifting his eyes from the wild blue yonder.

  For the moment, I enjoyed being with him, cuddled up in his arms. If that was all I ever got from him, I would remember that night as being the first night I knew I could live a life free from the past. A normal life. “Where’s your happy place, Ethan?”

  “Other than right here with you, I guess my grandparents.” He curled a piece of my hair around his finger. “When I was growing up, I spent every summer there. It was the one place where I felt like a kid and not the protégé my dad demanded I be. His lessons were not the easiest of lessons to learn.” His whole face frowned. I wanted to ease the sorry in his eyes. I didn’t think I would like his father very much.

  “At my grandparents, I got to be a little boy. They had a dogwood tree in front of their house; I would spend hours in it shooting the squirrels. My granddad Doyle hated the creatures. He paid me five dollars for every one I killed. I made a bundle each summer.” His face changed talking about his time at his grandparents. The smile on his face was the most magnificent smile I’d ever seen. “They had a pond out in the pasture. I would spend all day catching frogs. My granny actually cooked them. The best damn frog legs in the world. I would give just about anything to have a big helping of them about now.”

  “My Grandma Beth lived on a farm too. Granddaddy spent all his time on the tractor. Grandma Beth spent every moment trying to make me feel loved.”

  “Are they still alive?”

  “No, my Grandma Beth died a month after I spent the summer with them. My granddad already had early onset Alzheimer and when grandma died, he lost it. My Uncle Rob and his wife took care of him, but I never got to see any of them ever again.” Don’t cry, Dylan. Don’t cry. Ethan is not ready to see the fucked up side of you, yet.

  “My grandparents are dead, too. I bought their farm and still drive the tractor when I get a chance to visit. The farm holds some of my best memories. It was because of my frequent campouts there that I developed my love for astronomy. Maybe if you’re a very good girl, I will take you some time.”

  I had to have fallen asleep in that field, because the next memory I had was waking up in my bed with a note pinned to my pillow. Thank you for the best night ever, E.

  Saturday, September 21, 2013

  “Crap,” I screamed and looked over at the clock on the bedside table. It was ten forty-five. I was due to had been at work in fifteen minutes. Why in the world did I sign up to work every Saturday anyway? Oh yeah, up until last night I had no social life.

  I tossed the blanket off the bed. I was still in my jeans and sweater from the night before. Thank the good Lord, he didn’t try to change my clothes when he brought me home. In reality, he never tried anything. He didn’t carry me out to the middle of nowhere to make out with me, but to share an experience he was passionate about.

  My clothes still appeared neat, so I ran a comb through my hair. Pulling it into a ponytail, I darted out the door. Thanks to the used car that I was able to buy with the extra money I received from my scholarship, I made it in to work with three minutes and thirty-six seconds to spare.

  “Dylan, sleep outside last night?” Deacon, my ever-annoying coworker, asked, pulling a piece of straw out of my hair, then off my sweater.

  I sunk down in my seat as my face turned fifty shades of red. I didn’t answer. I liked Deacon, but didn’t understand her. She flourished at being different. At the moment, her hair was purple with a few strands of pink. She weighed close to two hundred pounds and didn’t even care. Our differences outweighed our sameness. Is that even a word? However, the one thing we did have in common was our view on men and the fact that they should not be trusted. So, I was sure she would have condone me for falling asleep in a guy’s arms I just met, in the middle of nowhere, and I didn’t want to hear her rant about it either.

  “I slipped coming into work this morning.” I started changing the roll of paper out of the cash register, ready to start working and stop talking.

  “In a wheat field?” She snorted, her expression was endearing.

  I glanced at her and couldn’t keep from smiling. Despite her extreme outer appearance, she was a person that without a doubt would have had my back if it came down to it.

  “Yeah, I crossed it at the corner of mind your own business and I don’t have to tell you shit.”

  She rocked back on the heel of her shoes and smirked. “Maybe you fell over the guy who left you those. He was a dreamboat.” She pointed over to a vase that held an over-the-top arrangements of lilies. I fought to hide a smile.

  I stared over to them but was interrupted when the supervisor opened the front door, and the lunch crowd stormed the building. That day was busier than usual. With classes finally starting full force, everyone wanted a quick bite so they could get back to studying.

  Every girl at work whispered or flat-out talked about the flowers. They found it hard to believe that Miss Doesn’t-date-or-even-gives-a-guy-a-second-look got flowers. I seriously started doubting they were for me until the three girls that were there when they were delivered started to describe the guy. It was surely Ethan, or how did Pam put it, Mr. Makes-my-pussy-wet-with-just-one-glance. It was four and a half hours later before I finally had a chance to check them out for myself.

  Dylan, I passed by this unique little flower shop while I was running this morning and thought of you. Who am I kidding? I haven’t stopped thinking of you. Though your beauty dwarfs the allure of the flowers, I hope they bring you a small taste of the exquisiteness that you have brought to my life. See you at 7, E