The Lies I've Told: A By The Bay Stand-Alone Novel Read online

  Things were starting to become a littler clearer in regard to her bad day.

  “And you’re the one left behind to pick up the British bloke from the airport then?”

  She nodded, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Not really left behind. I flew in from Florida to help, so that is what I’m doing. Helping.”

  There was a distinct sort of sadness to the way she’d said it. Maybe she was sad she was missing out on such a monumental family moment. Maybe it really was an epically bad day.

  Or maybe she simply needed alcohol, like me.

  We pulled into a driveway. I took a moment to look around, noticing the pristine landscaping and beautiful entryway.

  “How about you offer me a little of that help by showing me the closest bar?”

  I heard the car click back into gear as a sly smile spread across her face.

  “Now, you’re speaking my language.”

  After a bit of a rocky start, Millie and I seemed to find our rhythm just fine.

  I was a little apprehensive when she pulled off onto a sleepy street and said, “This is the most happening place on the island.”

  After a quick look around, I swore she was joking.

  But the second we stepped onto that open-air patio and I felt the warm breeze against my face, I had to hand it to her; it wasn’t half bad.

  “Silly Millie McIntyre, back in the ’Coke!” someone hollered from the kitchen as we took our seats.

  She turned to see a big, burly guy emerge, holding a few menus as he slung a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

  “Billy! So good to see you.”

  “You, too. Haven’t seen you since your sister’s wedding, but I figured you’d be around sometime soon. Molly looks like she’s about to explode.” He made a motion with his hands, making the round shape of a pregnant belly.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard yet, considering the speed at which gossip is spread through this place, but Molly and Jake are now the proud parents of a little baby girl.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered. “Drinks on the house, y’all! Our good doctor is a daddy!”

  Everyone cheered as Billy took our orders. Millie ordered a Long Island iced tea while I stuck with a whiskey sour.

  “I hope you aren’t expecting that whiskey to be Scottish because I’m pretty sure Billy only serves Kentucky whiskey, and I’d hate for you to be upset. After all,” she said, a slight grin tugging at her bottom lip, “my sister made me promise to treat you like royalty, and I wouldn’t want it getting back to her that you were forced to drink Southern whiskey.”

  “After the week I’ve had, I wouldn’t care if it came from Jamaica as long as it burned on its way down and made me forget.”

  Her eyes met mine, and time seemed to stand still for a brief moment. “What are you trying to forget, Aiden?”

  I opened up my mouth to respond, but Billy stepped in, delivering our drinks before running off to another table.

  I picked up the glass and took a large swallow, nearly downing the whole thing in one gulp. “Nothing. Everything. Tell me more about your sister,” I said, quickly changing the subject.

  She sort of laughed. “Why? Do you want to date her? I think she’s a little tied up at the moment.”

  “No,” I replied. “Although, if she looks anything like you, my hat goes off to the good doctor. He must be a lucky man.”

  Her eyes narrowed in on mine, not falling for my cheap shot at flirtation one bit. “Well, let’s see…Molly is fiercely loyal and strong-willed. She believes any problem can be solved with a couple of hours in the kitchen and a few baked goods. And she’s kind.” She paused for a moment before looking up at me. “Why do you want to know so much about my sister?”

  I shrugged, letting my fingers trace circles through the condensation that had formed. “Just a handy trick I’ve picked up over the years. Works great with clients.”

  “I’m not your client,” she deadpanned.

  “No.” I laughed. “You’re definitely not, but it still works. You see, when you sit down with a stranger and say, ‘Tell me a little about yourself,’ more than likely, you’re going to get a handful of shit.”

  Her forehead rose in amusement. “Go on.”

  “People don’t often know themselves. Or if they do, they don’t like to share it with anyone. Revealing who we really are is vulnerable and scary.”

  “So, you ask them to tell you about someone else? Why? I don’t get it.”

  “Not just anyone else. Someone close. A sibling is always great because it’s such a delicate relationship.”

  “Okay…”

  I’d obviously lost her. “When you were describing Molly, your face lit up with emotion. I saw love and respect but also a twinge of jealousy.”

  “I’m not jealous!”

  I grinned. “See, it’s like a window to the soul.”

  She paused a moment before making a sour face. “All right, so why don’t you tell me about your siblings?”

  I nearly choked on my drink before composing my features once more. “Can’t. Nothing to tell.”

  “Only child?”

  I bit the inside of my lip before responding. Right now, I am. “Something like that. Anyway, it’s only a theory. Something I use when a client asks for something stupid or impossible.”

  “Like?”

  I flagged Billy for another round of drinks, and he nodded before I continued, “A long while back, I had a couple who wanted me to etch their love for each other into stone.”

  “Okay. Kind of corny but not really stupid.”

  “Not stupid, no. But completely impossible, considering he was banging the nanny and she’d checked out of the marriage ages ago.”

  “And you figured that all out based on your little sibling game?”

  “Well, no. The last part was pretty obvious when she came on to me in my office; but the rest, yeah. Although, instead of siblings, I asked them to tell me about their kids.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed to pull the love from somewhere. And seeing their eyes brighten and melt when they spoke of their sons, it was enough to get the job done. They saw love shining back at them when they saw the finished piece.”

  “Even if it wasn’t for each other? Wow, that’s kind of sad.”

  “It wasn’t sad when I deposited that big, fat check they had written me. I’d been living on rice and black coffee for months.”

  “Mmm, been there. When I landed my first job out of college, I made enough to barely cover my rent. Pretty sure I subsisted on ramen and coffee for the majority of that year.”

  “And, now, you’re running the whole place, am I right?”

  She gave me a hesitant smile as she finished off her drink. “Something like that.” Looking up at me, those baby-blue eyes met mine, full of determination and wicked intent. “You want to get out of here?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  My eyes bolted open as sunlight from the windows glared down at me.

  Where am I?

  This was a common question of mine when I woke, having lived the better part of the last three years constantly in transit. But today felt different.

  I looked around, somewhat recognizing the room that had once been my parents’, growing up. It had changed quite a lot, having gone through some recent major renovations. Since my sister and brother-in-law no longer lived here, having renovated Jake’s family home for their own, there was no need for family quarters anymore.

  It was sort of sad really.

  The end of an era.

  I sat up, quietly stretching as if I had all the time in the world.

  Because I did, right?

  No job. No responsibilities.

  Responsibilities…

  Shit!

  Breakfast for the guests!

  I bolted out of bed, frantically searching for my clothes. Where were my clothes? I tried to think
back to the night before, but it was blurry.

  Hazy.

  And then the hammering in my head began.

  Shit, how much did I drink last night?

  “Where are you running off to so early?”

  The deep British accent had me stopping in my tracks.

  Last night…

  I turned on my heels, tugging on the short shirt I had on, wishing it were suddenly a dress. Or a robe.

  Or anything longer than a shirt.

  Aiden’s eyes perused my body with a wide grin on his face as he casually tucked his hands behind his head. I tried not to notice the way the muscles in his arms flexed.

  Or the fact that, besides a carefully placed sheet, he was basically lying naked before me.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. My fingers raked through my hair as I tried to remember the night before. “We didn’t…did we?”

  The question had him immediately sitting up in bed, causing that well-placed sheet to shift.

  I gulped as all of him—and I did mean all of him—came into view.

  Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

  I turned around, my cheeks flushing as heat spread through my body. He wasn’t just naked. He was naked and very much awake.

  “You don’t remember?” he asked as I listened to the bed groan as he stood.

  “No,” I admitted. “Do you?”

  I heard the telltale sign of jeans being zipped, giving me the courage to turn back around. Sure enough, he was decent.

  Well, as decent as a shirtless, hot-as-fuck Brit could be. God, I thought his muscles had muscles.

  “Um, no,” he answered, but there was a hint of sadness to his eyes as he reached down to grab his shirt off the floor.

  I let out a tiny whimper of protest as the black T-shirt slid down his body.

  He really was beautiful.

  I shook my head, trying to keep focused. “Oh, that’s great. Just fucking great. So, what happened here exactly?”

  He pointed to the pile of clothes and the mostly empty alcohol bottle on the nightstand, that sadness drying up as he let out a breath and straightened, his features hardening. “I think that’s pretty clear.”

  My arms folded across my chest before I realized that only brought my shirt higher up my waist. Aiden didn’t miss the extra peek of flesh either as I watched his grin widen.

  “Nope, I don’t believe you. I don’t do one-night stands. Ever.”

  “Ever?” he echoed, surprise written all over his stupid face.

  “Yes. Ever. Why is that so hard to believe? Do I look like the one-night-stand kind of girl?”

  “Well, right now. Sort of.”

  My hands flew up in frustration. “I can’t do this right now. I’m late in setting up breakfast. My head is pounding and—”

  And my life just fell apart.

  “And what?”

  “And nothing. Now, will you help me find my clothes? I need to go try to save face with the rest of the guests. In the meantime, maybe one of us will remember what exactly happened last night. Like, how the hell we ended up here. I’m not even sure this is your room. Did I even show it to you?”

  God, everything was hazy.

  He nodded, his face still unreadable as he scanned the room and finally met my gaze. “It is. Your sister—the loyal, overly kind woman that she is—was actually booked solid when I made my hasty trip down here. But these rooms hadn’t been opened up for booking yet since they were recently renovated.”

  “Yes, I believe she was holding off until after her maternity leave to save my parents the added stress of extra guests while they were in charge. But how would you remember that?” I asked as his head turned, focusing on gathering up his things.

  “Don’t know,” he said. “Guess I was sober enough to remember that part.”

  “This is a nightmare. I’ve got to go,” I said, flustered, turning toward the door.

  “Oh, Millie?” he said, making me turn back around.

  I could see a hint of amusement in his eyes, but it was masking something.

  Something big.

  “What?” I said, trying to hold back my anger.

  “You might want to put some pants on before greeting the other guests.”

  I glanced down at my bare legs and the lacy panties that barely covered anything before looking back up at the cold smirk spreading across his face.

  God, I hated this man.

  Thankfully, Molly had prepared for her departure when it came to food. After rushing into the large family-style kitchen, I began searching for anything and everything that might work as a breakfast for twelve because, although she and I had been taught all the same recipes, growing up, she was the only one to remember them or re-create them without burning anything.

  But being the overly responsible person she was, Molly had armed me with enough baked goods—both fresh and frozen—to last through Ruby’s first birthday.

  Maybe longer.

  Now, all I needed was—

  “Need some help?”

  I twirled around to find the handsome sculptor I’d just run from standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No help. Especially from you.”

  He ignored my words and sauntered in, my eyes unable to look away.

  “What do you mean, ‘especially from you’? What did I do to deserve such hostility?”

  I gulped as a single image from the night before fluttered across my mind.

  Him.

  Me.

  On the bed.

  I felt heat pool between my thighs as I turned away. “I told you, I’m not this person. I don’t—”

  “Fool around with random strangers. Yeah, you made yourself clear on that little matter. But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened or that, despite what you might or might not think, you really could use some help. The rest of those guests upstairs are stirring.”

  I looked at the wide door that led to the foyer, trying to gain a peek at the stairs. Letting out a heavy sigh, I relented. “Okay, fine. Are you capable of making coffee?”

  He grinned, moving toward the coffee pot. I took a deep inhale, hating how good he smelled as he brushed past me. “Just call me the coffee master,” he said.

  “No,” I said adamantly.

  “That’s not what you said last—”

  My hands flew up in the air as I tried to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. “Please, for the love of God, don’t finish that sentence.”

  I watched as he finished scooping out the coffee and added the water.

  Then, he turned around and leaned against the counter. “You really don’t remember anything?”

  “Nothing.” I began stacking muffins in a basket.

  He mimicked my motions, doing the same with the other pastries.

  “But you don’t remember anything either, right?” I glanced over at him as his hand froze for a single, solitary moment.

  “Nope.”

  “Any of it?” I pressed.

  “Only the little tidbit about the room; that’s all.”

  “So, you don’t know if we—”

  “We did,” he said with a note of finality in his tone.

  “How do you know? We could have just made out. Or better yet, talked.”

  A somewhat forced grin spread across his lips as he grabbed the baskets and ran them over to the table. Then, he turned back around. “There was a condom wrapper on the floor.”

  “Oh,” I said, not sure what to say or do after that.

  On one hand, I was glad we had taken precautions. But, on the other…

  I looked up and down his body one more time, all those hard lines and toned muscles.

  I would have really liked to remember a night with him even if it was wrong.

  So wrong.

  “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea,” I began as I pulled out several other things for breakfast, including eggs. Surely, I could make something with eggs.

  He
watched as I began cracking them, one by one, before letting out a huff of air and stepping up beside me one more time.

  He took several of the eggs and simultaneously cracked them into the bowl. My eyes widened with shock.

  “I can do a few things beyond using a chisel and a hammer,” he said, a grim line of determination sweeping across his beautiful face. “I’m not a chef by any means, but I am pretty good with eggs. Why don’t you go take a few minutes for yourself before the other guests arrive? I’ve got this.”

  I pressed my lips together before I spoke, “Why are you being so nice to me? Especially after how I treated you this morning?” I asked.

  He placed both hands on the counter, his upper arms flexing as he leaned against it. His face almost seemed lost for a second, like a ship gone astray. But, just as quickly as it had come, the moment vanished, and he was back at the helm, that same emotionless expression on his face. “Let’s just say, I know what it’s like to have a bad day.”

  I could see genuine pain in his eyes before I turned toward the door. I thought about asking him what he meant, but I got the feeling it was off-limits and not meant for me, a virtual stranger.

  A stranger he’d slept with.

  I tried not to think about that on my way back to my room, the one that sat next to his in the old family quarters. Aiden had left the door to his room partially open, and I thanked him for that small kindness, seeing as most of my stuff was apparently in here.

  I took a cursory glance around the room. The first thing I noticed was the changes Molly had made. A long time ago, back before careers and responsibilities, this had been a safe haven for Molly and me. We’d run in here when we were scared, huddling under the covers of our parents’ large bed when the house would creak and groan in the middle of the night.

  But seeing it now, I barely recognized it.

  Everything from the paint on the walls to the furnishings had been updated, tying it in with the rest of the inn rather than separating it like before.

  A part of me was indeed sad. So many memories had been shared in these two bedrooms that were always ours.

  Just the family.

  But I was glad to see my sister moving on. Once tied to this place physically and emotionally, she’d found that elusive balance everyone talked about. The perfect mix of career and family life.