A Charmed Little Lie by Sharla Lovelace

Author:Sharla Lovelace [Lovelace, Sharla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-04-18T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Okay, did Lanie fill you in on everything?” Carmen asked.

We were at a picnic table next to a display of pies, eating ridiculously small slices given as samples. Townspeople milled, the air was thick with the aroma of raw honey everywhere, and music thumped inside the town hall building next to us. It was the annual Honeycomb Dance that kicked off that “famous” Honey Festival the highway sign bragged about.

I had changed into a cute sun dress that flattered my figure and made my boobs look amazing. It had stopped him in his tracks halfway down the stairs. It was dirty pool. I knew that. But those photos of his ex-love of his life in his arms, mixed with remembering being the one in his arms just the other day, had me all over the damn place, zapping from one live wire to the next.

He hadn’t exactly gone grungy Farmer Bob, himself. Nick looked drool-worthy in dark jeans and a black, untucked long-sleeved shirt rolled up to show the perfect amount of forearm. He might have been wiped out, but he sure faked it well.

And that’s what we were all about, after all.

“Alicia’s a spy, the Bowmans are in on it, and we need to molest each other in public,” Nick said, ticking the items off as if it were a grocery store list.

“Pretty much,” Carmen said, separating her tiny pie from the tinier drizzle of honey. “I mean, make it look married, not first date horny, but yeah.”

Not first date horny. She had no idea.

“God, is there nothing in this town that isn’t dripping in this crap?” Carmen said, wiping the honey essence from her plastic fork.

“You don’t like honey?” Nick asked. “Is that legal here?”

“Not really,” she said. “Another reason I don’t fit in.” She winked at me. “I won’t even grow flowers in my yard because I don’t want bees around.”

“Wow,” Nick said. “You are the black sheep.”

“Well, tonight I’m faking it, kind of like you,” she said with a small smile. “So go make it look good.”

Faking it. Right.

“All right, sweetheart,” I said, smiling up at him and squeezing his bicep, which almost made me do it again. “Are we ready to go be sexy?”

It was like a first date. With some kind of weird permission to push the boundaries. Everywhere we stood, every conversation we had with others, involved Nick’s hands on my body in some way. He’d play with the ends of my hair, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulders. His hands would run up and down my bare arms, or he’d have a hand at the small of my back, one finger making maddening little circles that more than likely a married woman would not notice. I, however, could zone in on every touch like a drone, and didn’t remember half of what anyone said.

I loved it. It was a bad idea to love it, and I knew that, but it was like being Cinderella at a ball.

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