Page 22 of Crumbling Truth
“Okay. I think we should stick to the plan.”
A slow smile curved his lips and, before I could react, he lifted his fingers to brush lightly over my cheek. My skin heated under his fingertips and my brain stalled as I met his gaze. There was nothing about him that reminded me of Steve. Hell, there was nothing unsettling about him in the least, aside from the unexpected warmth I felt pooling in my belly when he looked at me with that faint smile tugging at his lips.
For the first time in a long time, Iwanted.
I stared at him in shocked silence until he dropped his hand and said, “It’ll be great, Esther. You’ll see.”
I couldn’t match his confidence, but the lingering trails of warmth from his caress bloomed under my skin until I was grateful he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark. My reservations about this plan had been simple—now I wondered if there was a greater danger than the Spruce Hill gossip mill.
Under no circumstances could I allow myself to fall for this man. I could play the part, pretend to be casually dating the town’s prodigal son, but this farce had an end date. Theo had fled Spruce Hill almost twenty years ago and never looked back, not even to visit his amazing, loving parents.
If I let myself fall in love with him, even a little, it would end in the kind of heartache that had been blessedly absent upon my husband’s death.
No, falling in love was out of the question.
Chapter Nine
Theo
Ishouldn’thavetouchedher.What the hell was I thinking?
Esther was so quiet during the drive that I was convinced she was going to explode by the time we pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Hell, she’d probably punch me straight in the throat the minute she stepped out of the truck. I couldn’t even blame her for it.
Instead, she slipped her hand into mine when I reached her side. I felt the faintest tremor in her fingers, then she lifted her face and summoned a brave smile.
“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Shock short-circuited my brain, so I just squeezed her hand and headed toward the front door of The Mermaid. As we passed the signature golden statues on either side of the entrance, Esther let her free hand graze over one’s intricately carved fins. A surge of need coursed through my veins, startling in its intensity, as I imagined her fingers trailing over my skin like that.
Shut it down,I told myself firmly. This wasn’t a real date.
Even though I’d already been to The Mermaid with Oliver since my return, the place blindsided me again with its cool, slightly hipster atmosphere. While the hostess led us to a big booth in the back corner, I took in more of the details than I had last time. Local art adorned the walls and the lighting was low without making the place seem sketchy, giving every wooden surface a warm gleam.
Our friends were already seated, leaving me and Esther to slide in at the end. Though I was going to let her have the outside seat in case she felt the need for a quick exit, she willingly positioned herself between myself and Oliver’s sister.
Unlike me, still pondering that bolt of lust, Esther had her game face on. She greeted everyone with a friendly smile, joked a little with Sofia about accepting the invitation, and then nudged her leg against mine beneath the table for reassurance.
On the other side of Sofia sat her husband, Chase, followed by a pair of women introduced to me as Melody and Theresa, who had apparently gone to college with Sofia and Esther, then Oliver and Julian. It was a small group, thankfully, and Esther didn’t appear outwardly uncomfortable.
Just when I started to think this might not be so bad after all, Oliver piped up with, “So, you two.”
I froze, startled into silence, but Esther snorted softly and elbowed me in the ribs.
“Us two,” I repeated finally, causing the rest of them to stifle their laughter.
Julian caught my eye, then hissed in Ollie’s ear, “Jimenez, zip it.”
With her boisterous brand of assistance, Sofia jumped in to turn the conversation to the upcoming tree lighting—Spruce Hill’s official kickoff to the holiday season. When asked if I wasattending, I mentioned helping Esther with the food truck and we were met with a chorus of “awws” from the entire table.
I glanced at Esther, who grimaced but winked at me, and I finally gathered the courage to drape my arm along the back of the booth behind her. To my surprise, she shifted slightly so that her side brushed against mine, like she’d simply been waiting for the invitation.
We managed to get through dinner without receiving any pointed invitations for Thanksgiving gatherings, though Sofia shot me a look when we were saying goodnight that I took as a warning we weren’t off the hook just yet. Watching each of them embrace Esther, one after another, filled me with a soft sort of warmth. Maybe it was seeing her surrounded by friends, maybe it was the connection of my past and my present, but either way, it made me intensely happy.
As I drove us home, Esther sighed contentedly. “That was surprisingly tolerable.”
“Admit it. You had at least a tiny bit of fun.”
“Maybe a little,” she agreed, rolling her head against the seatback to smile over at me.
