Love and a Little White Lie by Gray Tammy L

Author:Gray, Tammy L. [Gray, Tammy L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Romance;FIC042040;FIC042100;FIC027270
ISBN: 9781493425266
Amazon: B0821Q7GRQ
Goodreads: 50605405
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Published: 2020-08-01T07:00:00+00:00

I roll to a stop in my aunt’s circular drive and park behind a truck I could now draw in my sleep. Mr. Kyle is here, probably with his son, and I have no idea how to approach either one of them now that I’ve learned the truth about Dillon’s mom.

I grab my jacket and shut my car door. The weather is incredible today. Sixty degrees, zero wind, and a cloudless sky. It’s supposed to drop back down to thirty-eight after midnight, but for twelve whole hours we get perfection. I think of the wedding going on tonight at six and how lucky the bride must be feeling right about now.

“Hello, it’s me,” I call through the screen door. Aunt Doreen has all the blinds and windows open, and the smell of brisket fills the house. I move through the kitchen, the living room, and then spot the crew on the back porch. Well, not the whole crew, just Doreen and Dillon. Uncle Jim and Mr. Kyle must be out by the smoker.

For some reason, my pulse jumps when Dillon turns and offers me a half smile. He looks so different I nearly stop mid-step. Gone are the old ratty jeans and stained T-shirts. His hair is styled, his face freshly shaven, and he’s wearing a thin gray long-sleeved shirt tucked into dark jeans.

“Good. You’re here.” Doreen claps her hands together and stands. She pulls me into a hug as soon as I clear the doorway and keeps her arm around me as she turns us toward Dillon. “I’m assuming you two can play nice for a day?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and maybe it’s the cowboy boots he’s wearing, but I swear his accent got thicker overnight. “Our interactions have only drawn blood once.”

I can tell he’s teasing me, but I don’t respond or smile. It’s too easy now to see the sadness through his wit and the layer of grief through the brooding set of his jaw.

Doreen studies me closer. “You okay, hun?”

“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

“Did that rehearsal dinner party keep you up last night?”

I shake my head and keep my eyes from straying back to Dillon. “No, they were either out or in bed when I got home. Lots of activity this morning, though.”

“Yes. I’m going to head up there in a little while and make sure they have everything they need.” She pats my arm and then releases her grip. I want the pressure back, just like I want to beg her not to leave me alone with Dillon. She obviously hasn’t developed telepathy because she makes some comment about the potato salad and scurries into the house.

I stand there, jacket still clutched in my hand, and have no choice but to interact with the only other person on the porch. “Pretty weather today,” I say and sit where my aunt just vacated.

Dillon’s forehead wrinkles. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“No, I’m not.” I ball my jacket in my lap and try to stop the frustration creeping up my cheeks.

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