Liar

by Lia Fairchild

  “That means everything to me.”

  The mussels were sampled but not finished, the drinks left just after a second refill. Daniel and I dropped the picture at my car and walked out to the fields. He took my hand in his, pressed his shoulder close to mine as we strolled. The dry dirt ground crunched under our feet. The pounding of our footsteps and the whirling wind were the only sounds as we got comfortable with being together. I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what we were: together. I wouldn’t let myself get too used to that idea—especially when only one of us had gone through confessional.

  We stopped at an old-fashioned farm rail that looked like a soft breeze could blow it over. Beyond it sat acres of plains, untouched property with nothing but the shadow of a cloud as the sun drifted behind it. Daniel gathered my face in his hands as my hair billowed on each side. His touch alone had a way of bringing me to life. Yes, I’d admitted I was happy. But feeling his skin against mine reached far beyond simple happiness. He pulled my lips to his, pressing a slow, tender kiss to them. My arms snaked through the inside of his jacket to his back. One of his hands left my face to pull me in by my waist, sending heat coursing through my system.

  “I can’t even explain what my heart feels to hold you like this again, Gray,” he whispered against my mouth.

  “I know. I’ve missed it more than you know.” How many nights had I longed for his body to be next to me in bed? The intensity between us from one kiss showed me that we both had suffered long enough. I pulled back and fixed a hard glare on him. “But we’re only halfway there, Daniel.” My voice sounded desperate. I hoped that wouldn’t make him question my emotional state. I wondered what it would take for both of us to leave all that behind.

  “I know. You’re right.”

  “Whatever it is, I can handle it. We said we were in this together, so why are we still apart?”

  “I know apologizing is rather weak at this point, but I am sorry I’ve been such a hypocrite. I’ve pressed you to be honest and open up to me, but I’ve yet to do the same.”

  A pull to touch him sent my hand to his cheek. “I’ll be forever grateful for that. I just want you to trust me enough now to do the same.”

  “I do trust you.” He took my hand in his and led me back to the path. “I don’t want to rush this, and I have to leave. I have a patient this afternoon, so I need to start heading back. How about dinner this Saturday? We can talk more then.”

  “That sounds perfect…only if you let me cook for you at my place.”

  He raised his brows at the notion of me cooking a meal, but I wasn’t about to assure him with the knowledge that Chef Nathan had taught me a thing or two over the years. “Yes, I can cook.” I nudged him in the ribs, and he laughed. “So I guess this is our first date,” I said when it hit me.

  “I guess that’s true. It’s a date.”

  CHAPTER 4

  --------------------------

  Gray

  A pair of knee-length, black leather boots led my dad and me down the hall to Dr. Rothberg’s office. With her short stature and petite frame, those boots practically swallowed her whole. I briefly noted how different her attire was from Dr. Wallace’s, which led me to hypothesize about the ethics of clothing selection for therapists. I would have thought they taught them in Shrink 101 to steer clear of anything too stylish or provocative. What if the patient was a sex addict or had a leather or foot fetish?

  Attractive and in her late forties, she had a soft, comforting way of speaking, like a mother reading a fairy tale to a child. I would have liked to set her up with Dad, but it was probably best to avoid another Donovan going down that road.

  We’d arrived on time for our session, but Dad checked his watch twice as we entered the room. Her cozy office smelled of apple cinnamon. It lacked the large window I’d become so attached to in Daniel’s office, but I convinced myself I no longer needed that.

  Once the niceties had commenced and lingered uncomfortably long, Dad and Dr. Rothberg exchanged curious glances. She swished over to her chair. Dad looked to the door and then proceeded to take his seat in a forest green vinyl chair.

  “Expecting someone?” I asked as I sat next to him.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Dr. Rothberg chimed in. “You didn’t tell her, Henry?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Dad fidgeted; he avoided my glare. “I should have told you sooner, Gray.” He peeked over for a second, then blinked away. “I invited Becca to join us today.”

  My aunt Becca had been one of the people to help me through this mess. We’d even grown close, but when it came to my dad she often took his side. “Why would you invite her here?”

  Dad checked his phone and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…”

  “And why didn’t you just tell me? What’s the big secret?”

  He returned the phone to his pocket and turned his body toward me. “There’s no secret…and I’m sorry I just sprung this on you. I guess I didn’t think it through. I just felt like this place is a safety zone for dealing with our…conflicts.”

  “Well, that certainly clears things up.” I glanced to Dr. Rothberg, whose expression showed she was at mere bystander status at that point.

  “Honey…” Dad said, pleadingly.

  I raised my brows and set my chin back against my chest on reflex. The term of endearment took me back ten years and set off an alarm in my head.

  “Sorry…Gray. I asked Becca to come because she and I are seeing each other. I thought it would be safer to discuss it here.”

  “Oh.” If there was one thing I’d learned by being a seasoned mental patient, it was to give yourself a few seconds before responding. People had trouble trusting some of the things that came from my mouth—understandably—but a rushed response had even less validity and a greater chance of coming off hostile. In those few beats of internal percolating, the light by the door lit, alerting Dr. Rothberg that someone had pressed the lobby button. She rose to retrieve Becca while Dad and I continued staring at each other like two chess players. So many thoughts flooded my brain; I couldn’t tell which were actually relevant to me. Should I give a damn that my mother’s much younger sister could end up my stepmom? Becca and Barb were teenagers when my mother had died, and they were fifteen years her junior. Given that Daniel had almost ten years on me, I had no room to judge.

  He let out a sigh as he turned his eyes toward the floor. “Did I screw this up?”

  His scolded puppy dog routine had no power in a place like this, where every word and gesture was analyzed. Before I could respond, the quiet voices of Becca and Dr. Rothberg neared. Instinctively, we both stood as they entered. Becca’s smile from her brief encounter with the doctor quickly faded as she entered the lair. Her eyes flicked to my dad as she moved to hug me first. “Thank you for letting me be here,” she said quietly. I shot Dad a look as Becca went to greet him. He shrugged innocently.

  Becca’s attire definitely screamed that she was off the market. I had noticed the last few times I’d seen her that her appearance had started creeping away from the twins’ standard club-hopping garb to a more conservative nature. I just had no idea it was because she was dating my dad.

  Once we were all seated again, Dr. Rothberg leaned forward in her chair. “Clearly, we’ve had some miscommunication here, but I’m hoping we can all move past that.” Her gaze scanned the three of us like we were in the principal’s office. I decided to comply and nodded with the others.

  “Great.” She clasped her hands on her lap and focused her attention on me. “Now, Henry has already said that he and Becca have started seeing each other. Obviously, he’s concerned about how you’ll take the news and how it will affect your relationship.”

  “So this little party is because you all think I’m going to freak out?” I glanced to my dad mid-sentence to find him shaking his head. I had felt somewhat perturbed whether their concerns were valid or not.

  “How do you feel about it?” the doctor said. />
  “I’m not going to have a mental breakdown, but I’m not about to jump up and do a cartwheel either. I’m not sure it should make a difference to me.”

  “You don’t have any questions for your father about the relationship?”

  “Honestly, I don’t want any details right now.”

  “Do you want to share your initial reaction with them?”

  “This isn’t a game show. You can’t just throw this at me and expect me to buzz in with answers. I need some time to digest it.”

  “That’s fair.” Then she directed her attention to Dad and Becca. “Would either of you like to say anything, then?”

  “I would,” Becca said. “Gray, I’m here because I care about both of you. I’m concerned about how this will affect all of us. We’ve gotten so much closer over the last year, especially with that whole mess with Harvey. You really helped me get through the divorce.” She smiled so sweetly, I saw my mother behind her eyes.

  “I know my mom would be happy her sisters are no longer torturing me.” My light tone bought me some time.

  “Well, I can’t speak for Barb, but I’ve changed for sure. And because of that, I’m not only close with you but also with your father. I guess what I really want is your blessing.”

  I glanced at my dad, who stared straight ahead like a pack mule with blinders on. Nothing would get through that. Not only did it take me back to my childhood once again, but it also showed me where I got some of my tendencies from. I wondered if Becca could help him become the man he once was.

  “Look, you guys don’t need my blessing.” I paused to see if Dad would turn my way. Heat washed across my face and an image of Dad smiling while flipping burgers on a barbecue flashed in my mind. Where the hell did that come from? Taking in a breath, I worked to get back in the moment. “Henry,” I said, commanding his attention.

  He blinked in my direction as if I’d snapped him from hypnosis.

  “I’m going to be honest and say I don’t know if I’m totally okay with this. At the same time, I think everyone deserves a chance to be happy, so I’ll do my best not to cause problems.”

  Becca smiled genuinely and touched my dad’s arm. He showed relief, and yet I read caution as well. I’d expected a smile, at least, but his expression left me feeling troubled. Was there something more they weren’t telling me? I could only hope this was not the calm before the storm.

  ***

  I stood in front of the table, staring down at grease seeping through the takeout bag I’d just arrived home with. Why had I agreed to burgers and fries? I expected Alyssa over ten minutes ago, and it had been her night to choose. I could have stopped and knocked on her door on the way in, but I avoided her apartment unless absolutely necessary.

  The door flew open right before I reached for the bag to stash it inside the microwave.

  “Sorry I’m late. Teddy made me do the freaking dishes.” She tucked a piece of black-and-purple hair behind her ear as she sped walked to the table.

  I noticed some extra shine coming off that ear, so I assumed she’d added a piercing.

  “I’m starved,” she said. As if I weren’t there, she began pilfering through the bag like a stray dog nosing through the trash.

  “Whoa…wait a minute.” I pulled the bag from under her grasp, but she managed to jam two fries into her mouth. “What are you talking about? Why is Teddy making you do dishes?”

  Alyssa chomped, slammed a hand on her hip, and gave me the death stare. “Because Duck Dynasty is going to be my new daddy. Haven’t you heard?”

  Her mother’s current boyfriend had stuck around longer than the rest, but I figured it wouldn’t last. At least that’s what she’d hoped. He wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but I didn’t like any man being in that apartment with Alyssa. Especially now, when each day I saw her becoming more like a woman and less like the little girl I sometimes missed. “Seriously? How would I have heard that?”

  “I dunno.” One shoulder lifted and fell. “Yeah, so I gotta sit there and watch him pick bread crumbs out of his mangy beard while I wash the dishes from his dinner.”

  “So they’re really getting married?”

  “Don’t know, but he’s staying over every night like he freaking lives there. You know how creepy it is to come out for breakfast in my PJs and see him at the table with his shirt off?”

  Taking teen drama with a grain of salt was one thing, but hearing this and knowing where it could go made my stomach knot. “Hey.” I touched her arm as she arranged her food on the table. “I want you to be careful. I don’t know the guy, but from what you say, it worries me.”

  Her fun-loving smile didn’t have its usual calming effect. Instead, I saw her beauty emerge, and my protective instincts caused my brain to go haywire on a few frightening scenarios. But I had to make sure I didn’t scare Alyssa.

  “He’ll probably be out on his ass like the rest of them. So what movie are we watching?”

  I let the subject go, but my gut told me it would linger around in my head while I lay awake at night. We ate and discussed movie choices like the conversation hadn’t happened at all. I briefly wondered if her skill at avoiding uncomfortable topics came from too much time with me.

  She told me about “some nerdy guy” her teacher set up to tutor her in science, but I saw that familiar awkward smile of a teen girl interested in a teen boy. Or at least the possibility of being around a boy.

  “What’s wrong with getting a little extra help?” I asked, playing along.

  “I dunno. Maybe I hate help. Sheesh.”

  Later, as we lounged on the couch under a blanket, she rested her head on my shoulder. The tiny gesture left me appreciative and with a cozy feeling of home I wanted to bottle and hide under my bed. At the same time, tiny bolts of fear shot through my glow at how close we’d become. Nothing has the potential for pain like a close relationship. And just like that, my thoughts went to Daniel. I had no idea what he would tell me on our dinner date. No matter what I learned, I would not allow it to keep us apart any longer. If Daniel could accept me knowing what he did, then nothing he could say should make a difference. But as determined as I was, anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach for what he might reveal.

  CHAPTER 5

  --------------------------

  Daniel

  I sat in my car in the parking lot of Gray’s apartment building, running through the words in my head. Saying them out loud would be another story entirely. I pulled at my black dress shirt, fanning it away from my sweat-slicked abdomen. My nerves were kicking the shit out of me, like I was about to strap on my first condom. Obviously a lot was at stake, and I didn’t want to screw this up. Maybe I already had.

  My hand stalled on the car door, giving me one last chance to save Gray or selfishly give in to what I wanted. What I thought I could give to her. As a doctor of psychology, logic should have told me I had just as much chance of making it work as I did at failing. As a man, my doubts weakened me no matter what I’d resigned myself to do the other day. My feelings for Gray clouded any rational judgments I could have made. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t be near her without thinking about her legs wrapped around me.

  I stepped out of the car and took in a large breath of the crisp night air. If one thing was clear in my mind, it was that Gray deserved to know everything about me. She deserved the truth about why I’d pushed her away. She’d opened up and shared her story with me, her fears with me. The time had come for me to do the same. I needed to stop being a hypocrite and a coward.

  The door pulled open; my heart lurched against my chest at the sight of her. The way she smiled at me, like I was the only man in the world, lit my gut on fire like a shot of cheap whiskey. Her long brown hair swept forward, over one shoulder. My fingertips itched to run the length of it. A tight black skirt hugged her hips, clung to her legs, and stopped a few inches above her knees. The most distracting piece of her outfit drew my attention to her chest. White, silky, long-sleeved, and low
cut in the front. My gaze landed on the top button, shooting me back to the night I’d unbuttoned her blouse on my bed. Focus.

  “Wow.” I wagged my head in disbelief, redirected my sights to her gorgeous green eyes. How in the hell could I have a serious discussion when faced with this? “You look amazing.”

  “What? I just came from work.” She giggled as she opened the door wider, like I was insane to think she did all that for me. At least the cut to my ego grounded me some.

  I followed her back to the kitchen, where steam rose from a boiling bot. A wave of something that smelled like the ocean trailed behind her flowing mane, and I inhaled it like a drug.

  “I hope I remembered right,” she said over her shoulder. “You like seafood, right?”

  “I do. And whatever you’ve got cooking smells great,” I said.

  She stopped at the stove and picked up a spoon, stirring the contents of a frying pan, looking oddly domestic and sexy all at once. “See,” she said, playfully with a hand on her hip.

  I could get used to this new carefree Gray. Still, I hung back at the counter, leaving a safe distance between us. “You’re right. I should never have doubted you.” I gave her a patronizing stare along with the tone.

  Multitasking caused her to miss my gesture. “I’m making seafood pasta. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, and that sounds delicious.”

  “Sorry I don’t have anything alcoholic to offer you, but there are plenty of sodas and teas in the fridge.”

  She was playing this first date act all the way to the back row. Wise move. “I’m fine for now. I’ll just watch you cook.”

  “Well, I don’t feel self-conscious now.”

  “Okay, I’ll wander around and check out your apartment.”

  “No!” she said to my back. “That’s even worse.”