Loving Her Fling
Hidden Hollows Book 3
Heather B. Moore
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Heather B. Moore
More from Sweet Heart Books
1
Everly
It wasn’t that Everly King didn’t want a man in her life, it was more like she hadn’t found one without a major flaw. And by major, she meant someone who was still in love with his ex-wife, or still lived with his parents, or insisted on being called by his gaming name, Pete-87.
Unfortunately, Everly had dated each of those type of men at least once. The guy in love with his ex? Twice. Different guys, same major flaw.
And . . . this made it easier for Everly not to feel guilty when inventing a budding relationship on the phone with her mother. Especially when her younger sister’s wedding was in three weeks.
“Honey,” her mother murmured into the phone. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound glum.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Everly said. “Really. I’m exhausted from work and class.” Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to answer her mom’s phone call because she’d just pulled up to the Hidden Hollows movie theater. It was a Wednesday night, and very few people would be at the movies, exactly how Everly liked it.
The movie started in ten minutes, and unlike the rest of the general population in America, she loved the previews. She’d analyze each one, then mark in her Notes app whether the upcoming movies were a must-see, see-only-if-nothing-else-good-is-playing, or a hard-pass.
Everly also needed about eight minutes to buy a ticket, get popcorn and soda, then be in her seat before the lights dimmed. It was part of the transition from real world to movie world. It gave her goosebumps every time.
“All right, honey,” her mom continued, in a sympathetic tone that had gotten on Everly’s nerves lately. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the bridal shower, all right? And you can tell us all about this mystery man you’re dating. Tom, is it? What’s his last name?”
“Uh, Middleston.” Everly winced. Had she channeled the actor she was about to watch in one of the Avengers movies? Hidden Hollows theater had two theaters—one showed new releases, the other showed oldies, but goodies.
“Wonderful, dear,” her mother said. “We’ll look forward to hearing all about Tom Middleston tomorrow.”
Everly’s voice was very, very small when she said, “Okay, bye Mom.” She hung up, the small pit in her stomach feeling like it had grown to a full-sized apple now.
Was it so horrible to pretend that she was dating someone? She’d had pretend boyfriends before—guys she’d talked about when she was in middle school and high school—when the popular girls were throwing around words like dating, kissing, holding hands . . . Once Everly had declared she had a boyfriend, who lived in her cousin’s town, so she only got to see him on family visits, and suddenly, Everly wasn’t the frumpy girl in school with the wild, curly hair. She was the interesting girl.
Everly sighed and climbed out of her car. The wind was warm for June, and it stirred her messy bun, making it even messier.
A pretend boyfriend was probably fine when she was a teenager. But now? At twenty-seven? Perhaps not so fine.
But desperate times called for desperate measures, right?
As in when your gorgeous little sister, Brandy, was getting married in a few weeks to the equally gorgeous Brock Hayes. Who was pretty much amazing in every way, expect for one tiny detail. One tiny, but significant detail.
He was Everly’s ex-boyfriend.
She pushed down the bitterness that she’d kept firmly buried and tucked her jacket under her arm as she crossed the nearly empty parking lot. It might be a warm June night, but she always brought a jacket for the theater. She adjusted her messy bun, which she’d once had decent before work that day. She thought her job at the craft store was fun, but her mother didn’t think so and considered it an aimless career.
But Everly loved the organized aisles of craft items and the potential in each item to create something unique. It combated the topsy-turvy world of expectations outside the craft shop. Even in sleepy little Hidden Hollows, it seemed that everyone was living a full, accomplished life. Her girlfriends from high school were either in great careers or getting married. Or married with a kid. Or . . .
Everly pulled open the theater door as her cell phone buzzed with a text.
OMG, Mom told me you’re dating someone! I want to hear all about it!
The text, alas, was from Brandy. There was no way Everly could carry on this fib any longer. Her mom might believe her, but Brandy would see through it in an instant. Everly sighed, and without opening the text—so her sister wouldn’t know she’d read it—she turned off her phone. Another rule she had about going to the movies. No phones. No distractions.
She bought her ticket at the snack counter.
“Hi, Emery,” Janlyn said. Janlyn was a teenager who worked at the snack counter, her dark, soulful eyes rarely smiled.
Which is why Everly made sure to great her cheerfully. “Great to see you, Jan. How’s everything going?”
“Oh, you know, the same.”
It was the same—the same response she always gave.
“Oh, okay,” Everly said. “Ticket for one, please. I’m seeing the Avengers.”
“The usual snacks?”
Which was a medium popcorn and medium Dr. Pepper. Yep. Everly had a standing order at the movie theater. She nodded sheepishly and tapped on the counter while she waited.
Jan returned a moment later with both snacks.
Everly picked everything up and headed toward the theater room. Her hands were full, so she used her shoulder to push through the door. She’d been right. Only a handful of other people were inside. She picked her favorite spot—middle aisle, middle seat. The only way to get the full effect of course.
She briefly toyed with the thought of turning on her phone and answering her sister, but then a string of texts would follow. The lights would be dimming any minute, and Everly didn’t want the distraction. Besides, she still hadn’t made up the story of how she’d met Tom—ahem, Middleston—or what he looked like, etc.
Just as the lights lowered, a tall man walked into the theater. Alone. A quick glance told Everly that he was one of those confident, good-looking types. He had brownish hair that was long enough to touch his collar, deep-set eyes, broad shoulders, and he was built yet lean. He probably had a girlfriend or wife joining him any minute. Which meant that Everly should not be checking him out. But she’d never seen him before, and she knew everyone in Hidden Hollows.
Was he passing through town? Here on a work trip? Visiting his in-laws?
His clothing was generic for the most part—jeans that fit him quite nicely, and a gray or blue t-shirt beneath a darker colored jacket.
The theater went dark then, illuminated only by the screen showing a commercial reminding everyone to silence their phones and be respectful of their neighbors.
The tall man hadn’t found a seat yet, but remained near the entrance, as if he were scanning the chairs.
Maybe he was picky like her? Everly’s gaze shifted back to
the screen as a movie trailer started, it was some thriller with a bunch of teenagers in it. She dug her small notebook out of her bag and jotted down the title of the movie, ranking it a three—middle of the road.
The man was still standing by the entrance, scanning seats.
Sit down already, Everly wanted to say. The second trailer started, one of those high-action car chase movies. She wrote down the title, then ranked it a one—a must-see.
The man started forward, and soon he climbed the steps, getting closer to her middle row. She fully expected him to continue on past her row, but he didn’t. He turned right into her row.
Everly didn’t move. Couldn’t. There were literally dozens of empty rows.
Yet, the man with the broad shoulders and well-fitted jeans continued down her row, getting closer and closer to her. Until he stopped.
Everly’s breathing stopped with him. No, she didn’t turn her head, but she could very well see him in her peripheral vision. She knew exactly how many seats away he sat from her when he sat down.
Two.
2
Austin
Austin Hayes had wanted to turn down this job. Renovating an old theater in a small town closer to his home would have been fine. But not in Hidden Hollows. The theater itself was charming, although severely outdated. From the moment he walked into the building he could smell the decades-old popcorn grease, but beyond that, he was already calculating the amount of work that would need to be done.
Tomorrow, he’d get a copy of the blueprints from Town Hall, and that’s when the real calculations would begin.
Tonight, he was coming to the theater as a regular moviegoer. To check things out from a distance and to gauge his first impressions.
His dad had apparently visited relatives in Hidden Hollows as a kid, and he was the type to keep in touch with friends over the years. So, the city council had contacted his dad about the job. According to him, there was something sentimental about the place. The problem was, his dad’s hip surgery had put him out of commission for a couple of months, and possibly for much longer. So here Austin was instead of his dad. A hundred miles away from home on a two-to-three-month job. Which meant that there would be few chances to see his seven-year-old daughter, Jessica. Thankfully, his mom had stepped in to help with Jessica.
Being away from Jessica so much hadn’t been the path he wanted. Of course, that had been the pattern of his life the past few years. When his wife had died from cancer a couple of years ago, that had definitely not been the path he’d chosen. Becoming a single dad with a young daughter had not been his plan. Neither had the long and lonely months that had followed when his mother’s friends, and his mother herself, had tried to set him up with one woman or another.
Everyone had given him space for about six months, then the interference set in.
“Jessica needs a mother,” Austin’s mom had said with more and more frequency. “We all miss Rachel, but it’s okay to move on. She would have wanted that for you.”
But Austin rarely had free time, and when he did, Jessica was his priority. Still, he had been on a handful of token dates, and honestly, none of them had struck him as mother material for Jess. He’d even kissed one of the women, and she’d then wanted to move past all of the relationship steps and move in together.
No thanks.
Once Austin was settled into his seat at the theater, he tried to forget everything for a few hours. A woman sat a couple of seats over in the seat he would normally have preferred. Middle of the middle was always the best seat in a theater. Rachel used to tease him about it.
Memories like that made him miss her. During the early days of their marriage, that was. Times like this, when it was just him, and he wasn’t focused on work, the good memories flooded back. Despite the opening action scenes of the most recent Avengers movie, Austin was barely paying attention. Although the not-so-good memories were more recent, when he thought of Rachel, he tried to think only of their early marriage together.
They had always been in sync. Loved the same foods, the same recreation, the same type of decorating for their house . . . Eventually, though, their lives had become routine, predictable, even boring. Just as Rachel had accused him of being.
She wanted a baby as much as he did, and when Jessica was born, they both doted on her. The first couple of years, anyway. Then Rachel went back to work at a salon, and things slowly shifted in their relationship. She had started spending more and more time after work with her coworkers. They’d meet for dinners and girls-only weekend events.
Austin didn’t mind at first, until the day Rachel announced that she was going to start staying over a few nights a week at Taylor’s so that she didn’t have to deal with the hairy commute. Austin was dead set against it because Jessica needed her mom and her dad.
But Rachel wouldn’t budge. Then four months later, she was diagnosed with cancer.
One week after the funeral, a man named Taylor called Austin, asking him to come and fetch Rachel’s things. It turned out that the woman Taylor, was really a man named Taylor.
“Excuse me, sir?” someone said above him.
It took Austin a moment to realize he had fallen asleep in the movie theater, and the movie was now over. He blinked open his eyes to see a woman standing above him. He guessed her to be the same woman from his row.
Had he been dreaming about Rachel? He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. Yeah, he was tired, but still, Avengers should have kept him conscious.
“Sir? Do you speak English?”
“Uh, yeah.” His voice was raspy from his impromptu nap.
The woman gazed at him, her head tilted and hazel eyes curious. Her dark blonde hair was a riot of curls and braids with metal things on them, pulled up into a messy bun. And her clothing . . . he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many different colors on a single person before. Her top was dark pink, and her jacket was some sort of yellow. Her red jeans followed her curves like they’d been painted on.
“The theater has cleared out,” she said, her tone low and mellow.
Austin nodded, although his head still felt heavy from sleep. “Thanks, I guess I fell asleep.” The screen was completely dark as if the credits had finished rolling too.
Instead of moving on, like most people might—most strangers that was—the woman said, “Long day?”
“You could say that.” Austin rose to his feet and stifled a yawn.
The woman still hadn’t left.
She was several inches shorter than him, yet he guessed that her personality was far from small. She carried a shoulder bag that looked more like a folded quilt, and in one hand she held an empty popcorn container with a drink container inside of that.
“Well, you shouldn’t be driving then,” she said. “There’s a bed and breakfast down the block if you need a place to stay.”
Hidden Hollows must be one of those places where everyone knew everyone. “I have a place, thanks.” He took a step forward, expecting the woman to step out of the way, but she didn’t move.
He supposed he could go down the opposite way.
“Oh, sorry,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to hold you hostage or anything.” She took a step back, then turned and moved along the row.
Austin followed at a bit of a distance. In her wake, he could smell whatever perfume she was wearing. Or was it her shampoo, or lotion? Whatever it was, it was sweet, and quite nice.
He kept his gaze up, not on her swaying hips or those heeled sandals of hers.
She walked quickly, and he was surprised at her speed. He wondered how long she had waited to wake him up because when he reached the lobby, the entire place was empty. Not a single employee was in sight.
The woman had already reached the exit doors, and she pushed through them without looking back. Austin decided there must be someone coming to lock up later, so he left the building too.
“Oh!” a woman exclaimed.
The same woman . . . Austin looked over and sa
w that she had fallen on the curb leading to the parking lot.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he strode over, although she was already sitting up and didn’t appear injured.
“Oh no,” she muttered and began to scramble on the ground. Her giant purse had spilled.
“I can help,” Austin said, crouching to gather what looked like small squares of paper.
“Careful,” she said. “Don’t let them get bent.”
“What are these?” Austin asked, holding one up so he could read the printed words in the outside lights of the movie theater. It was a movie ticket stub.
“My movie stubs,” she said, then rose to her feet and chased after a couple that were blowing in the breeze. “My box must have popped open when I dropped my bag.”
She returned, out of breath, her hair even more wild, her breathing hard.
Austin handed her what he’d gathered.
“Thanks,” she said, tucking them into what looked like a plastic pencil box. “I’d hate to lose my collection.”
Austin should probably head to his truck, but he’d never heard of a grown woman collecting movie stubs. “How long have you been collecting?”
Her gaze lifted to his, and he was pretty sure he’d never seen eyelashes that long. At least not natural ones. Rachel had been all about the fake eyelashes until she developed some sort of allergy to the glue.
“Since my first movie.”
Austin’s brows popped up. “You have all the stubs in there from every movie you’ve ever attended?”
“No,” the woman said. “These are about two years’ worth. I wouldn’t carry around that many movie tickets.”
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