Innocent Lies (3 page)

“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.
Occasionally, 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

I couldn’t wait to
get home and spent the rest of the day with this stupid
over-exaggerated smile plastered across my face.
Great, Dylan you are becoming one of
THOSE girls.
It didn’t matter
if I was. I started counting down the minutes until seven. I got
off work at six, giving me fifteen minutes to get home, thirty to
bathe and get ready (which after missing a bath that morning, I was
starting to feel skanky), and another fifteen minutes to bring my
breathing under control.

Okay, maybe I
wouldn’t get my breathing under control until after he had come and
left for the night. For some ingenuous and stupid reason, I tended
to hold my breath a lot around him.
Shit, I have become one of those GIRLS. But what a
MAN.

Sarah was pecking away at her
computer when I finally got home. She was a creative writing major
and dreamed of becoming a famous writer of erotica. After all the
guys who have passed through our front door, I would say she had
plenty of material to work with. I wasn’t saying she was a slut.
Well yes, that was exactly what I was saying.

I thought about taking a moment to
inform her I might actually have some material to contribute to her
half-written stories. I didn’t have a moment though. If he was on
time, I had twenty-eight minutes to transform into something other
than the overworked waitress.

“Hey can I borrow
something to wear? Ethan will be here at seven.” I asked as I
headed to the bathroom, trying to keep Sarah busy and her nose out
of my affairs.

I didn’t have time to
wash my hair so I just pulled it back in a loose braid. Quite
frankly, I needed a good trim more than I needed a shampoo. I
needed a lot. Starting with heels, I was five feet three inches,
maybe. Ethan was well around six feet. Which was convenient if I
wanted to rest my head on his chest. “
Pushing it there aren’t you. He hasn’t even tried to
kiss you yet and you’re already planning a night in his
arms.”
I said to my image in
the mirror then stuck out my tongue.

Sarah brought in my customary
tee-shirt and jeans. “Dylan, you don’t know how happy it makes me
that someone finally has you hot and bothered, but you need to be
yourself.” She threw the clothes at me and laughed. “Now, I’m going
to my room. I would hate to steal him away.”

I pinched my cheeks
for a little color, no time, or ability for make-up. I jumped when
I heard the doorbell. He was punctual.
“You got this.”
I whispered to my reflection in the mirror.

“
Good evening, beautiful. Ready?” He took my
hand, his thumb stroking over my knuckles, back and forth. My heart
accelerated once again.
Okay Dylan, he is barely touching you. Get control of
yourself.

I had thought of nothing all day
except him. Twice, Mr. Bill, my boss, had to scream my name to
bring me back to reality.