Lying Hearts (Small Town Lies 1)

I heard you only accept the love you think you deserve.

And I deserved the love Easton was ready to give me.

For a long time, I believed I didn’t deserve to be loved, so I immersed myself in solitary confinement. I thought men were better off without me or that I was better off without them, but really, I only punished myself for what happened all those years ago.

I believed, I waited because in my heart I knew Easton was the love of my life.

“How do I look?” I asked, giving Oliver a quick twirl. I wasn’t wearing anything too flattering since I worked all morning, but the jeans were tight and skinny, hugging my hips just right. The red shirt I wore was low cut and showed some cleavage. I tried to brighten up my face with makeup, but I wasn’t one of those girls that knew how to put on makeup, so my idea of dressing up was mascara, blush, and lipstick.

Plus, those three items were easy to carry around in my purse.

“Like a runaway diva, darling.” Oliver kissed either side of my face and then slapped my ass. “Now, go get him tiger. I better get juicy details.”

My face flamed from what he insinuated, and I hurried out the door as Oliver’s devilish laugh followed me. The door shut, and the cold wind made me squeal. Apparently, a rare snowstorm was coming. The weather channel had said that weeks ago, but it was like the fire halted it. I believed it this time though. The weather was quickly changing to winter.

We had skipped autumn completely.

And I had left my damn jacket in the car.

“Brrrr,” I shivered and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. I clicked the button to open the locks to my car when someone grabbed my arm. I screamed, lifting my elbow back to jam the person in the gut.

“Woah, I’m sorry to startle you. Sorry.” The stranger let go of my arm, and I turned around, leaned against my car, and struggled for breath.

I made sure to keep my key between my fingers. I was ready to shove it in the guy’s neck if he did anything.

The man was tall, older, in his forties with dark hair that fell a

round his shoulders and cold green eyes that made me think of nightmares. He gave me the feeling that something bad was about to happen. He had a burn on the side of his face, and when he smiled, that side didn’t move much. The skin stretched and tugged. It looked painful. “I was hoping you could point me in the right direction,” he said. He looked scarier than he sounded. “I’m visiting, and this town is so quaint. I just want to explore while I can.”

Okay, so he was an out-of-towner, that explained a lot.

I stared at him, the quiet enveloping us. The leaves scraped the ground when the next gust of wind twirled their edges against the porous cement of the sidewalk. My hair waltzed with the next gust around my shoulders, and the man just watched me, enthralled and almost… satisfied.

“How can I help?” I asked.

“I need to get to Kathy’s diner? I hear she’s got the best cherry pie on the East Coast,” he grinned. He wore old clothes, something out of a thrift shop, which was fine; I had no judgement. I loved thrifting.

“It’s actually right here on the corner. You’re almost there. You can’t miss it,” I said, pointing to the brick building I found myself in too much growing up. Kathy’s was the place to go around here, especially after a night at Rocky’s.

“Thank you. I hope to see you around.” He pulled something silver out of his pocket, and it made me jump. He flicked it open, and a flame ignited. Then he placed a cigarette in his mouth. I swore, when he inched the lighter closer to his face to light the smoke, it wasn’t the fire I saw reflecting in his eyes, but hell.

My instincts screamed at me to get away.

“Hey, there a problem? I have a broom here, Mister. I’m not afraid to use it!” Oliver yelled from the door.

“You have good friends,” he told me. “No worries. I was just leaving. I’ll be seeing you around.” His voice was a low growl, slithering like a snake around me, hissing in my ear a silent warning. I didn’t know what the warning was, but I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last time I saw the man.

I watched as the man walked away, puffing a cloud of smoke in the air. He had a long black coat on, a panama hat that reminded of the creature from Jeepers Creepers movie.

“W-I-E-R-D-O,” Oliver spelled out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” My heart still raced, and my hands shook. I had to be overreacting. I checked the time and realized I was late. “Crap, I really need to go. Love you, Oliver. Thanks for protecting me.”

“Always. I know how to wield a stick.” He rubbed his palm down the broomstick and winked at me, wiggling his brows. Yeah, he probably knew how to handle a stick better than I did.

Sad truth.

I hopped in the car, buckled in, and sped down the road, putting the man in the coat out of my mind as I raced toward the hospital. The nerves came fluttering back, more like a swarm of wasps stinging my insides with how nervous I was. My mind whirled like the leaves did moments ago with what could happen.