“This is where a certain man comes in handy. A certain Reed Ryan man,” she’d pointedly said too many times in the week since that devastating day.
Not that I’d ever responded or even let myself entertain thoughts of Reed while I was wrapped up in the store. I couldn’t, and I refused to go down that road when I was soaking up all the warmth and excitement of the store nearly being finished with Donna.
It could wait until that night. It could wait until after the day was done and I was alone in my room to let the sorrow and the anger from Reed’s betrayal and absence bleed out and consume me.
“Do you think people will come?” Donna asked, bringing me back to the store. Her tone was significantly different than just seconds before. Softer, uncertain.
“I’m sure of it,” I said confidently. “It’s the only store on this street—or any street around here—that has windows like these. Those alone make the store stand out. And we’ve been getting the word out that there’s a bookstore here just by calling around, looking for help.”
Donna didn’t respond.
She just sat there, staring off, looking lost.
I dropped my forearms to the polished and decluttered checkout counter and caught her eye. “Your shop is beautiful. You and your soul are beautiful. And you have books to sell now,” I said with a teasing grin. “They’ll come. I promised you we’d pay off that loan within a year. That’s what we’re going to do.”
She nodded, her expression showing equal parts joy and uncertainty. After a second, she scoffed. “Not with those doors, they won’t.”
A laugh bubbled free as I pushed from the counter.
Shooting Lala a secret smile, I said to Donna, “We’ll see what we can do about the doors.”
Lala dipped her head in a stealthy nod.
“I’ll come, Ms. Donna,” Nora called out as she came darting over from the children’s section, cradling her stuffed puppy close to her side. “I’ll be here every day, I promise, promise, promise!”
“See?” I gestured to Nora. “One customer, every day, guaranteed.”
“And I’ll bring my Reed,” she said excitedly, pointedly ignoring me as she spoke to Donna.
My lungs forced out a pained breath. My heart ached and twisted. But I managed a smile and held up two fingers. “That makes two.”
After everything had gone down with Reed, I’d been sure Nora would’ve been happy that Reed’s attention had gone back to being solely on her. But her animosity toward me had only grown, and I hated that her ignoring me just then was the best interaction we’d had since the night she found out Reed and I kissed.
“Well, I’m famished,” Lala said, casually pulling the conversation away from Reed. “How about we let this girl get her rest before she opens to the town next week?”
* * *
Two hours later, we’d finished our early lunch and said goodbye for the weekend. After dropping Lala and Nora off at home, I ran to pick up Donna’s first surprise and hurried back to the store in time to find the painters already at work.
Donna’s second surprise.
Soon, the store would look as fresh on the outside as it did on the inside, with a deep gray exterior and bright white trim around the windows.
I watched as they scraped the old, chipped, green and red and gold paint off the outside for a few moments before unlocking the doors and hurrying in to set down my bag.
When I turned, a stuttered breath ripped from my lungs. Partly in surprise, partly in . . . God, just Reed.
Eight days.
It had been eight days since I’d read the text and found out about him and Hannah. Eight days since I’d seen him standing in Lala’s kitchen—seen him at all. Nearly every moment had been spent at the store or running errands for it. The others had been spent hating myself for being stupid enough to fall for him. For missing him and wishing for my phone to go off in the early hours of the morning.
But none of that mattered.
Because it didn’t change what he’d done. It didn’t change that he’d made me want him only to shatter whatever had been between us that I’d been desperately trying to prevent.
I pressed a hand to my chest in a vain attempt to calm my thundering heart. But I had a feeling it would always beat erratically around Reed Ryan. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Reed’s eyes had been scanning the store from where he stood near the doors but darted back to me when I spoke. His brow furrowed in a way that really wasn’t fair. No man should look that good confused.
After a few seconds, he nodded. Just a slow dip of his head as if something finally made sense to him. The creases in his forehead smoothed and the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk.
Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words when he said, “I’m gonna go, seeing as I’m not actually needed here.”
“I never said you were.”
The words were out before I could stop them.
The tone, all of it, I wished I could take it back. But pouring all my hatred on a man like Reed was as instinctive as breathing. I’d done it most of my life. And he’d done exactly what I’d feared he would.
He’d taken the small part of my heart I’d given him and thrown it away.
A sharp breath of a laugh left him as he reached for the door. “Noted.”
My chest wrenched watching him leave. I wanted to beg him to stay and demand to know why he’d turned out to be like every man I’d watched my mother with. Confess that I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even still . . .
But the pain from what he did burned deep, keeping the traitorous thoughts locked in my throat.
Reed paused with one of the doors cracked open. After a moment, he shut it and quickly erased half the distance between us, the muscles in his jaw straining under the force of the pressure he was putting on it.
When he stopped, all I could think of were the feet separating us.
How vast they seemed.
How small.
How much I wanted to cross them.
How badly I needed to place a barrier between us.
“What is it?” he demanded. “What happened? Because I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure you out and what I could’ve done to you.”
A disbelieving huff tumbled from my lips. “Like you have to ask.”
“Of course I have to fucking ask. Everything with you is locked up so damn tight, and I never know when or if you’ll offer up a piece of yourself to me. Like this.” He gestured to the store. “This is what you’ve been working on. What you wouldn’t tell me about—what you clearly still don’t want me knowing about.”
I ground my jaw, the instinct to protect the store still so strong even though it was about to be revealed to the town and Reed was standing inside.
“From the first second you saw me, you looked at me like I disgusted you, offended you, and that was it. Your mind was made up. Then everything afterward just added to it.” Frustration and confusion danced across his features, battling for dominance when he took a step closer.
My heart took off.
Wings fluttered in my stomach.
“But I was sure we were getting somewhere—that things were changing between us. Apparently, I had everything really fucking twisted because it blew up in my face. You looked at me like you genuinely hated me. Not my badge . . . me.”
I did.
I do. I do. I had to.
But with him there again, in front of me, all I could think of was how badly I wanted to feel his lips against mine again. Wondering what our next kiss would be like.
Soft or firm.
Comforting or unyielding.
He’s with someone else.
He lied to you. He’ll only hurt you more.
“And I cannot figure out why,” he said sadly, then shook his head as if to clear it. Something like a laugh left him. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Because you made your point, and you’re still making it. Goodbye, Emma.”
My mouth opened .
. . to stop him, to yell at him for what he did, to do something. But I forced myself to stand there, watching as he walked away, running his tattooed hands over his head as he did.
Every part of me felt like it was sinking to the floor once he was gone.
My shattering heart.
My twisting stomach.
My shoulders that suddenly felt so, so heavy.
But it was for the best. It had to be. I couldn’t get trapped in Reed Ryan again.
Forcing out one excruciating breath after another, I blinked away the threat of tears and grabbed the book cart I’d left next to the counter that afternoon. Determined to push Reed from my mind and give my entire focus to readying the store for Donna. But my earlier excitement was long gone as I pushed the cart out to Lala’s truck, and when I lowered the tailgate and got my first real look at the surprise, I paused.
“Oh, Emma, what did you get yourself into?” I murmured.
I should’ve known when it took two men to load them all into the truck that I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself.
After another few seconds of hesitation, I steeled myself and reached in, grabbing for the first bubble-wrapped surprise.
“Jesus,” I wheezed when I barely managed to move it an inch. Another tug and another rush of air, and I nearly collapsed on top of the pile. I pushed myself up on the tailgate, head lowered as I silently cursed tattooed men and heavy surprises.
“Need help?”
Heat raced across my skin. My chest pitched with my sudden inhale. I slowly looked to the side to see Reed standing there, eyes hard and jaw locked tight, colorful arms folded over his broad chest.
“I thought you were leaving.” There was no bite behind my words, but it sounded like I couldn’t catch my breath.
Stupid, fickle emotions.
His eyes darted from the bed of the truck to me. “Was. Then I saw you pull that cart out here.” He cleared his throat, head slanting slightly. “Lala called earlier. Said she was here and needed a lot of help.”
My eyelids slowly shut. The air left my lungs on a slow exhale. “Of course she did.”
He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t think I’ve ever noticed this place before.”
“No one has.” I gave him a tight smile when I opened my eyes, then looked at the store. “But they will.”
They had to.
I swallowed back the last of my pride and straightened as I turned to face Reed. “Yes.”
His eyebrows lifted in question.
“I need your help.”
Without a word or indication that he was going to, he leaned into the truck, lifted two of the frames from it, and set them on the cart.
Like they weighed nothing.
After making two trips to get all ten inside and spaced out on the floor, Reed looked at me curiously. “What are those?”
A smile pulled at my mouth that I couldn’t contain if I tried.
I hurried over to my bag and pulled out the plans I’d drawn up and the knife I’d brought, ignoring Reed’s amused expression when he saw what was in my hand. “I have a drill and hammer too. So, I’d be careful if I were you.”
A laugh punched from his chest. Full, rich, and easily one of the best sounds I’d ever heard.
I ignored it.
The way it made my smile widen . . . the way it made my stomach flutter and chest expand . . .
I knelt down by the first frame with a calming breath and carefully cut through layer after layer of bubble wrap, then eased the covering off the picture. The air fled from my lungs when I stood and took it in, more perfect than I could’ve imagined.
“Who is that?” Reed was beside me, his voice gentle as he studied the picture on the floor.
I cleared my throat and gestured to the picture of a thirty-something Donna, sitting with her back to her husband’s chest. Both wearing bright smiles and their best clothes.
Something about that picture, about them dressed to the nines but curled up together on the floor, had tugged at me the instant Donna showed it to me.
“That’s Donna and her husband. All the pictures are of her, her parents and grandparents . . . this is her family’s store.”
Most were taken within the store. One was of the storefront when it first opened. Some were of the family all piled together. Another was of Donna laid out while her husband sat near her, reading aloud.
It might not have been what Donna was thinking of when she’d said she wanted art for the store, but from the pictures she’d shown me, this was so much more than a store. It was a place where two generations of her family had been raised.
And I hoped hanging these pictures would give it that extra, homey vibe.
Once they were all unwrapped, I stood back, trying not to let the emotions tightening my throat get the best of me.
“Now to hang them.”
There was one for every divider between the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The one of the store when it first opened would go up behind the counter.
When Reed didn’t respond, I looked over at him.
Heat and need raced through me at the look in his eyes—at the wonder on his face. As if keeping himself away from me was a constant struggle. As if all the energy swirling around us and through us was something he still felt.
But in an instant, the look was gone and replaced with a mask of indifference. He cleared his throat and looked at the pictures, voice cold and edged with frustration. “You planned on hanging these?”
“Yes. That’s why I had them ordered.”
His head shook, the movement all agitation. “No, I meant you. You were going to if I wasn’t here.”
I wondered again what I had been thinking getting frames like those, but I would figure out a way. I always had before.
“I still intend to,” I said firmly. “You’re more than welcome to leave.”
“Jesus, Emma,” he hissed. “Why?”
“Because I can handle this on my own,” I said quickly. “You brought them into the store, and I thank you for that. Now you want to leave, and I don’t need your help anymore. So, go.”
“No, why?” he shouted, his sorrow mixing with his plea. “Why are you doing this? What did I do?”
I sucked in a breath to yell at him but held it until I was calm.
Held it until all that pain and anger I’d felt when I heard those women talking poured out in my hushed declaration. “You know why.”
“I told you, I don’t,” he said adamantly as I walked toward the counter, needing space from him, needing to breathe. “If you would just—”
“Stop pretending,” I cried out as I whirled around on him. “Stop doing this!”
He lifted his arms out to his sides, his face utterly hopeless. “Doing what?”
“Hannah,” I said through clenched teeth. “I know about Hannah, and I hate you for doing that to me. For pushing and pushing and weaving deeper into my life when I never wanted you there in the first place. Begging me for something I told you I didn’t know how to give you.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until a sob ripped from my chest.
I dropped my head into my hands as shame and horror and embarrassment swirled through me like poison. Tears fell into my palms like tiny bombs that I couldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried.
I continued back until I was pressed to the counter, a trembling mess of need and loathing and confusion, then slowly slid down to the floor, keeping my face buried in my hands.
“I found these,” he murmured not long after.
“Why won’t you leave?” I asked as I dragged my fingers across my cheeks and then let my hands fall to my lap.
“You say that a lot.”
Another subdued sob climbed up my throat at his disappointed reminder. I glanced from the box of Kleenex beside me to where Reed stood a few feet from me, face set in frustration in a way that fascinated and terrified and intrigued me.
“Emma, I don’t understand,” he went on. “You
already knew about Hannah.”
“I can assure you, I did not. You would’ve never known any part of me, I never would’ve let you kiss me, I wouldn’t have—” I quickly swallowed back the rest of the words that had nearly broken free.
I wouldn’t have given you a piece of my heart.
Discomfort pulsed from him as he rubbed at his jaw. “You came to my house that first night we met, which you very clearly let me know about the next morning in the coffee shop.”
My stomach churned and clenched. “That was—” I jolted when the heavy double doors opened and four guys came walking into the store.
I scrambled to standing, refusing Reed’s hand when he offered it, my stare darting from them to the men working outside and back again.
“We’re not open . . . yet.” My words trailed off and ended on a breath when the men caught sight of us and one of them called out Reed’s last name.
Nick.
Looking from him to the others, I nearly tripped over my feet in my attempt to back away and slammed into the counter.
Because even though I’d only caught a glimpse of one of the other men before, I had no doubt he’d been standing beside Reed last Thursday night—the night everything had gone so horribly wrong.
“Cops,” I rasped. “They’re cops.”
There.
Alone with me.
In the one place that had felt special and untainted to me just minutes before.
No, no, no.
Reed was in front of me in an instant, blocking them from my view. Concern and regret etched on his traitorous, deceitful face.
“Get away from me.” I meant for it to come out harsh, but I wasn’t sure he could even hear me.
“Emma, don’t,” he softly begged. “I asked for their help after Lala called me.”
“You brought them here. You brought them.”
“These are my friends. These are people I know and trust,” he explained pleadingly.
“Get them out,” I demanded, “and leave with them.”
Reed reached for me when I started for the long hallway leading to the office, grasping my arm as I passed by. “Emma—” His fingers slipped away and his hands were already lifting in surrender when I twisted and shoved my hand against his chest.
Lie to Me Page 26
