Austin didn’t know if he should laugh or continue staring at her. “You’re kind of a movie buff, huh?”
She set her box inside her bag, then shouldered it and met his gaze. “I’m a secret movie buff,” she said. “That’s why I’m here on Wednesday nights. Place is mostly empty.”
“Do you always sit in the middle seat, in the middle of the theater?” he asked.
She smiled.
Her smile was beautiful.
Which was something he probably shouldn’t be noticing. Along with how he was rather enjoying her flowery scent. And . . . he took a step back because he suddenly realized how close he was to this stranger.
“I do.” She tilted her head. “And you? I almost thought you were going to ask me to move.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t, because that would be rude.”
She was still smiling. “It is the best seat in the theater.”
“Agreed.”
She folded her arms, and the series of bracelets along her arms jangled. “Are you new in town? Passing through?”
“Neither,” he said. “I’m here to renovate the theater.”
3
Everly
Everly gasped. Aloud. “W-what?”
The guy with the brown hair, broad shoulders, and oh-so-chocolatey eyes, had turned out to be a gentleman. Until now.
“I’m the architect with Hayes Architecture,” he said. “The city of Hidden Hollows hired us to get the thing in shape.”
Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. How was this possible? The theater couldn’t be changed, or touched in anyway. She had been to the modern theaters where everything was shiny and gray. If she was going to be reduced to that, she might as well stay home and watch Netflix.
“You can’t,” she said finally.
The man’s brows pulled together, which made him no less handsome. Dang it.
“I . . . can’t?” he said. “Do you work for the city council or something?”
“No,” she said. “I work at the craft store, but I’m a very invested citizen in this theater. And I knew nothing of this . . . renovation.” Heat was quickly crawling up her neck. “I never heard of a city vote on it.”
His mouth quirked, and the heat along her skin intensified.
“I don’t know if it went to a vote or not,” he said smoothly, calmly, like she was a little child, “but I can assure you that the renovation is planned and budgeted for.”
Was he laughing at her?
She pulled her bag closer to her body as if it would give her some stability. “So, what are the plans then?”
“That’s what I’ll be spending the next couple of days doing,” he said. “I have to head to the Town Hall in the morning. Although, I do have a few ideas.”
Everly’s mind raced. “Like what?”
He gave her a strange look, but she didn’t blink, didn’t break her gaze. “Uh, who are you, again?”
“I said I work at the craft store,” she said.
“What’s your name?”
She released a tiny exhale. He’d learn her name soon enough since she planned to file a complaint about this renovation. “Everly.”
“Everly? Is that short for something? Beverly?”
“No. Just Everly. And what’s your name, sir?”
His brows lifted slightly, but he said, “Austin Hayes.”
“Hayes?” Her voice might have risen an octave, or more. What were the chances that Austin Hayes was related to the Hidden Hollows Hayes, aka the man her sister was going to marry in a few weeks. “Do you know Brock Hayes?”
To his credit, he looked confused. “Does he live around here?”
“Yes.”
“My dad has some relatives here,” Austin said. “I’ve never met them, though. Second cousins, or something.”
So that was sort of a relief. Why she cared exactly, she didn’t know.
“Is Brock a movie buff too?”
She should cut to the chase. “He’s my sister’s fiancé.” No matter how many times she said it, or thought it, she felt a pang right in the center of her chest. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Austin’s brown eyes narrowed. “You will?”
“Yes, I’ll be at the Town Hall, too,” she said, taking a step away. Then another.
His gaze had turned curious, and Everly ignored how pleased that made her feel. A man curious about what she might say. Imagine that.
“I’ll be there filing a complaint.” She turned then and headed across the parking lot.
Austin Hayes didn’t say anything, but she felt his gaze on her all the way to her car.
And seeing that there was only one other vehicle in the parking lot—a white truck—she now knew what he was driving.
She was quite proud of herself for staying within the speed limit while driving home. Well, home was a relative word. She lived in a makeshift apartment above the craft store. Makeshift because there weren’t really four walls. There were three, and two-thirds to be exact. The stairs that led from the store to the second level comprised that partial wall.
There had been a time or two that a customer had opened the staircase door and wandered right into her living quarters. Now, there was a large sign on that door that read, Do Not Enter. Everly opened the do-not-enter door and trudged up the steps, flipping on the light as she went.
Meow.
Everly looked up to see her beloved Snatches waiting stubbornly at the top of the stairs for her. No, the cat wouldn’t come down even one step.
“Hello, sweetie,” Everly said, arriving on the landing and combing through Snatches’ sleek fur.
The cat had been a work in progress. Nine months ago, it had shown up on her windowsill. The windowsill of Everly’s second-floor living space. At first, she thought she’d finally lost all her marbles and was seeing cats appearing out of nowhere. But upon closer inspection, after sliding open the window and popping out the screen, she saw that one of the trees outside the craft shop was a perfect climbing tree that led right to her window.
Which was how the cat got there.
The little orange tabby had rumbled with loud purrs, and no one could have blamed Everly for taking the tiny thing into her place and promptly feeding her a bowl of milk.
Snatches had been devoted ever since. Well, in the snatches of time Everly saw her. Everly was busy most of the time, and the cat disappeared often, but always returned with a lot of purring and a huge appetite.
“Let’s get you fed, sweetie,” Everly crooned.
The cat could apparently understand human English because she trotted to the half-sized fridge.
Everly smiled and pulled out a carton of milk, added it to a clean bowl, then set it down on the floor. Next, she scooped some premium cat food into another fresh bowl. Nine months ago, Everly might have scoffed at pet owners spoiling their fur babies, but no longer.
Snatches had brought a new brightness to her life.
In fact, now that she thought about it, Snatches had shown up the day after Everly’s breakup with Brock.
And Snatches had been there for Everly during the days following her sister’s tearful confession that she and Brock had been secretly dating. Granted, they hadn’t started dating until a few months after the break-up, but there wasn’t much consolation in that.
It had been a while since Everly had a sleepless night wondering if, during all the times Brock had been with her family, he had been secretly checking out her sister. Even their names went together better—Brandy and Brock. Brock and Brandy.
“Do you have a sister, Snatches?” Everly asked, bending to scratch the adorable fluffy head.
Snatches arched with a rumbling purr, then settled back to her food.
Brandy and Everly had been inseparable during their childhood, and it was only when Everly had gone to college that they’d each grown into their own, separate personalities. Two semesters majoring in art had been about all Everly could stand of the rigorous schedule, a
nd she’d returned to Hidden Hollows. Oh, and a breakup with Jim. Jim the Jerk, as she now referred to him in her mind.
Hidden Hollows was a different town as an adult. Brandy had already started her freshman year at a different college, and so the sisters remained separated for the most part. Everly had worked at the grocery store, then the bakery, followed by a failed stint at the diner. Dating Brock had made her feel like her life was moving forward.
Brock, who was dark haired, dark eyed, quick to laugh, and made everything fun . . . And then Brandy came home for Christmas, no longer the kid sister, but all grown up and beautiful.
Had it started then?
Looking back, Everly could only wonder. Nothing had been a red flag, but maybe it was because she wasn’t paying attention to whether her boyfriend was crushing on her younger sister. Brandy, who even at twenty-four had her life together, with her accounting degree, her start-up nonprofit business well on its way, and her slim figure and lustrous straight hair. Her clear blue eyes and long lashes. Who could eat whatever she wanted, but had the discipline to run miles every day.
Meow.
“Yeah, me too,” Everly said absentmindedly to the cat.
She settled onto her loveseat and fished out her cell phone, then turned it on. The texts from her sister were glaring, and for a moment, Everly felt bad about her little white lie to her mom. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t little. But it would get her mom and her sister and all their nosy cousins off her back about dating someone.
Obviously, the second she’d hung up with her mom earlier that night, her mom had told her sister. Thus, the myriad texts.
Truthfully, Everly was tired of the pitying looks, the whispered words, and the knowing glances. Because Everly had not only been dumped, but her boyfriend had proposed to her sister.
Snatches jumped up on Everly’s lap and kneaded her claws into Everly’s thighs. “Ouch, you brat.”
Snatches ignored her and continued kneading, completely content.
Everly scratched the top of the cat’s head, then scanned through her sister’s multiple texts.
Let’s get together tonight, you can tell us all about him. Or bring him too!
Everly knew that us meant Brock. Brandy was always with Brock.
Brandy’s next text read: Where are you? At the dumpy theater again? At least text us a picture of Tom!
What was up with us again? Was Brandy no longer her own person? Did every conversation have to include Brock and Brandy together?
The cat curled up in her lap, so it looked like Everly would be stuck on her loveseat for a bit. She texted her sister back: I’m calling you now.
Brandy answered on the first ring, her voice breathless with excitement. “I’m soo happy for you!”
“Hang on, Sis,” Everly said. “I might have exaggerated the truth to Mom.”
“What do you mean?” Brandy asked, her tone a little less peppy now.
“Well, uh, here’s the thing,” Everly began, then told her sister all about the made-up boyfriend with the pathetic name.
Brandy laughed. Hard. And she didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. When she finally did, she said, “Mom is going to be pissed when she finds out.”
Yeah. True. “Maybe I can say we broke up.”
Brandy laughed again. “You’re going to have to. But maybe wait a week or two, so she doesn’t think you’re a pariah.”
“Gee, thanks,” Everly deadpanned.
It was a joke, but it stung nonetheless and suddenly made Everly wonder what Brock had said about her to Brandy.
“Oh, Everly,” Brandy said. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
“I know,” she said. “No worries. It’s true that my dating record has been pretty pathetic as of late.” Correction: as of forever.
4
Austin
“Have a good day at school,” Austin told his seven-year-old daughter over the phone.
“Bye, Daddy! Have a good day at work,” his daughter said, her sweet voice only making him miss her more.
After hanging up with her, Austin locked up the apartment and headed to the parking lot. His rented apartment had no food, and he hoped there was a café or bakery on the way to the City office. The town wasn’t that big, so locating something wouldn’t be too hard, right? Climbing into his truck, he asked Siri for eating establishments. Coop’s Coffee was the first on the list and less than a mile away. Sounded good to Austin.
Moments later, he parked across the street from the coffee shop because the place was pretty crowded. Good to know when the busy hours were in town. He strode across the street. It was still early in the morning, but was already heating up with the June weather. A woman was hurrying along the sidewalk as he walked up to the door so he opened it for her, and she slid past him.
“Oh, thank you,” she gushed, her heavily-made-up eyes meeting his gaze. A smile nearly split her face. “And who are you, young man?”
Austin would describe this woman as in her mid-fifties, and she had the vibe of a know-it-all, which proved to be true since he had to stand in line behind her.
“I’m Austin Hayes,” he said, wondering if he should shake her hand or something.
“Ah, yes,” she said. “I’m Gentry Martin. I work in accounting for the city, so I’ve seen an invoice or two cross my desk.”
She laughed, and he wasn’t sure what exactly was funny, but he smiled anyway.
Others in the coffee shop were looking, and Austin guessed it was because he was new in town?
“So, are you single?” Gentry asked. “Married?”
He was surprised at the question, but also not surprised. The woman he’d met last night—Everly—had been direct as well. Although this accountant seemed to be entirely on her own level.
“Who’s asking?” he hedged.
The woman laughed again. Loud and high pitched. More heads turned. Not to look at her, but at him. Figured.
“I guess I should introduce myself, since I know all about you, but you don’t know me.”
She obviously didn’t know all about him since she didn’t know his marital status.
“I’m Gentry, like I said,” she continued. “I’m fifty-two, divorced, have two Labrador retrievers, both yellow, and I love picnics and nature walks.”
Austin literally had no words. Was she reciting her Tinder profile? Not that he’d ever been on Tinder. Okay, so maybe for about twenty minutes a few months ago. But he was off before anything could be considered official.
Gentry was also holding out her hand that was bedecked with no less than six rings. He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Martin.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, gripping his hand. Rather hard. “Hidden Hollows isn’t like that. No formality here. Call me Gentry, please.”
Can I have my hand back? was what he wanted to say. “Gentry it is,” he said instead, then tugged his hand out of her firm grip.
She poked his bicep. Who did that to a stranger? “So . . . married? Divorced? A handsome guy like you couldn’t be single for long.”
“Widowed,” he said, just to get her to stop with the questions.
Her blue eyes rounded comically. “Oh, my goodness. I’m so, so sorry. How long ago did you lose your wife?”
He’d worn a dress shirt today with a tie and everything. Now he was regretting it. The collar was too tight, and the tie felt like it was minutes away from choking him. “A couple of years now.” He nodded to the counter they’d been inching toward. “I think it’s your turn.”
“What can I get you, Gentry?” a man behind the counter asked. He had the name Cooper embroidered on his shirt. His blond hair was either bleached, or this guy spent a lot of time outdoors.
Austin guessed the man to be in his mid-thirties, and he was likely the owner of the joint since his name matched the name of the café.
“Ah, I think I’ll have . . .” And what proceeded—which was Gentry making up her mind—took about three full minutes.
; No one in line seemed to mind the delay. In fact, when Austin glanced around, the older man in line behind him nodded, and said, “How are you?”
“Good,” Austin said. “I’m Austin Hayes, and you are?” Might as well get the introductions over with.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, a gleam in his eyes. “I’m Bill Thayer.”
“Can I help you?” Cooper said from the counter.
Austin turned to see Cooper smiling at him, his blue eyes curious.
“Welcome to Hidden Hollows,” Cooper continued. “I’m Cooper.”
“Austin Hayes.”
Cooper’s brows lifted. “Any relation to Brock Hayes?”
“Possibly,” Austin said. “My dad has cousins here.”
Cooper’s blond brows lifted. “Ah. You’ll have to meet your family then.” He grinned. “What’ll it be?”
Austin wasn’t into the fancy stuff, so he ordered black. “And one of those bagels.”
Cooper rang up his purchase while another employee made the coffee, then handed he over a bagel.
Austin turned from the counter and planned to head straight to his truck when he saw a woman walk in—one he recognized.
Her hair was tied up in some sort of scarf this morning, and instead of those red jeans from last night, she wore a black skirt and bright blue blouse. And another pair of heeled sandals—these ones black—although he wasn’t really noticing. Just being observant.
Her eyes were green—no, kind of brownish—so, maybe hazel. Last night in the dim lighting of the theater, it was hard to tell. He fully expected her to say hello, but instead, she shifted her gaze from him and took her place in line.
Was she . . . mad at him? Truly? He didn’t even know the woman, and yet, last night she’d been plenty talkative, despite her announcement of complaining about the renovation.
Her huge bag was upon her shoulder again, and it made him think of the collection of movie stubs she had stashed inside. Which made him feel like smiling.
“Austin,” a woman called, and without turning, he knew full well it was Gentry. “Come sit with us.”
Loving Her Fling Page 2