Page 12 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

She grinned again, and I rolled my eyes. This couldn’t be a normal response.

“I think I like it here.”

That simple statement shouldn’t have made me as happy as it did, so I grumbled in annoyance just to balance it out in case this happy shit was catching.

“Do you know if they have any magazines?” Reece asked, looking around. “I was hoping to get something for the cottage.”

I could have cursed then. She didn’t have a TV. In fact, the cottage was lacking in most things electronic because I hadn’t had time to set it up. There wasn’t even a coffee pot. Damn.

“I know a place,” I said, internally cursing myself for forgetting something as simple as that.

I had enough stuff in my kitchen to stock her up with the pans and stuff that she’d need, but I’d need to order her a coffee pot and some other things. Reece wouldn’t like it, but the cottage needed it, anyway. Maybe I could just put it in the kitchen without her noticing.

When Reece squinted at me in suspicion, I almost smiled. At least she had some vaguely normal reactions. So I did what anyother normal person would do, and I turned my back to her and loaded the groceries onto the register.

It could be a surprise. She’d probably like it. And I refused to acknowledge how happy that made me.

CHAPTER FIVE

REECE

Booker loaded the groceries into the back of his truck, then waved me to follow him down the sidewalk. I took a moment to marvel that he wasn’t even slightly concerned someone would steal them and then followed with one last look back at Val, who had only cracked open one eye and then immediately gone back to sleep.

Where were we going?

I’d tried not to listen to how much the groceries came to. The guilt over the fact that this was one more thing Booker had to do for me was nearly more than I could take.

I had to admit though, knowing that the cottage was set up for me to look after myself was helping. Especially with how much being out in public was freaking me out.

Stepping into the grocery store had been tough. The first person I saw commenting on the bruise on my face was nearly enough to floor me. But I’d pushed through. I kept the smile on my face and forced myself to act like I used to. Maybe if I tried hard enough,one dayit would feel real.

And it had.

By the time we got to the register, the warmth I’d found in every person I’d met was starting to sink in. Everyone had been nothing but nice to me. The comments on my bruise were genuine concern. I hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and the way that Booker had been so ready to help me was making more sense. This was just how people seemed to be around here.

“Where are we going?” I asked, quickening my steps to catch up with Booker and hoping it didn’t look like I was running after him.

Why were his legs so unreasonably long? Who walked this fast?

“We’re going around the corner,” Booker said, and I mimed throttling him from behind.

This was past the point of cute now.

Booker came to a stop and then looked at me from under the brim of his cowboy hat as he hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

He had to know what he was doing.

Then he nodded to the door beside him, and I looked up at the sign. Books and Beans.

My heart thumped in my chest, and a squeal built inside me that I tried to swallow down.

“A bookshop!”

Booker looked at me warily, and when I took a step toward the door, I swear I saw him flinch.

“What is wrong with you?” I laughed.

“I thought you were going to hug me,” he complained, then he grabbed the door handle and held the door open for me.

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