Loving Her Fling

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Loving Her Fling Page 4

by Heather B. Moore


  “The theater’s closed,” a deep voice said behind her.

  She let out a small yelp, then turned, her hand on her chest. “Oh, you scared me.”

  Austin Hayes stood there with an eyebrow raised. He wasn’t wearing a jacket or a dress shirt and tie. No, he wore an off-white t-shirt that had seen better days and some ratty looking jeans that fit him perfectly, looking like heaven to her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  His brow remained lifted. “I should ask that of you. Do you make it a habit of coming into closed buildings at night?”

  “No.” She inhaled. Exhaled. Austin Hayes smelled rather nice in this close proximity. Maybe a shaving cream? Something subtle and woodsy. “I saw the lights and the truck and wanted to ask you some questions.”

  He gazed at her for a second, brown eyes steady on hers. “Sure,” he said at last.

  She couldn’t explain the relief that shot through her. Glancing at the iPad in his hand, she asked, “Do you have your proposal on there?”

  Two faint lines appeared between his brows. “My proposal?”

  “You know, for the renovation.” She took a small step back and put a bit of distance between herself and his wonderful scent—some sort of spicy soap? She might have also taken an accidental peek at his hand—left hand. No wedding ring, but that didn’t always signify a man’s marital status.

  “The city hired our company because of my dad’s connection to Hidden Hollows,” he said. “I didn’t submit a proposal. The city called us.”

  “Oh.” This she hadn’t considered. “What are their plans, then?”

  The edges of his mouth lifted. “Why are you so interested, Everly? Did you used to work here?”

  He’d remembered her name, and a small thrill buzzed her skin. Maybe she should reactivate her dating app, because here she was, feeling flattered when an out-of-town stranger knew her name. A handsome stranger, true, but still, unless she wanted to move out of Hidden Hollows, any interest in a man living elsewhere had to be squashed immediately.

  And . . . he was waiting for an answer.

  6

  Austin

  This woman was intriguing to say the least, and she still wasn’t answering his question. Although, it was good news that Everly was no longer avoiding him like she had that morning. And she wasn’t crying. She’d changed again and wore light orange pants with a white V-neck shirt. She wore plenty of bracelets again, and her hair was tamer than he’d seen it. Oh, her dark blonde curls were still pretty wild, but her hair was pulled back from her face. A few tendrils lay against her neck, and Austin wondered if her hair felt as soft as it looked.

  He was about to repeat his question when she said, “I did work here once, but that’s not why I love the place. My dad used to bring me here as a kid.”

  Ah. So, personal it was.

  “This theater was kind of our hangout.” She shrugged and looked down. “He’s been gone for several years, but I still come here a lot. Nostalgic, I guess.”

  When she met his gaze, he saw the pain in the depths of her eyes. Pain that he was intimately familiar with.

  When Austin had heard someone else in the theater, he hadn’t exactly been alarmed. He thought maybe the janitor had forgotten something. He’d spent the better part of the day reviewing the blueprints, then calling his crew to talk about materials and timing. He’d need to make final decisions by tomorrow to get everything ordered and delivered. The following day, his crew would arrive to begin the work.

  Finally, after he’d grabbed some dinner and wrapped up all of his phone calls and emails, he had headed to the theater as it was closing down for the night. He’d been intent on walking the entire interior and making notes. He had an idea of how to keep the theater up and running during renovation. He just hoped the city would go for it since it would now take a few extra weeks.

  Not that he wanted to be away from his daughter any longer, but maybe he could work in a couple of weekend visits back home.

  “What was your dad’s name?” he asked Everly.

  She looked surprised at this. “Bruce.”

  Austin nodded. “What did Bruce King like about the theater?”

  At this, she smiled, and Austin decided he liked her smile much better than her tears.

  “Everything,” she said. “I mean, the excitement of a night out is probably the first thing. The snacks—he was a popcorn nut. And well, me, I guess. Daddy daughter dates. And of course, being transported into another world for a couple of hours.”

  Austin leaned against the opposite wall from her. “What did he like about this building?”

  Her gaze scanned the hallway. “He never said specifically, but when I was a kid, he’d point out the arches and the detail work above them. Said they were like tiny book scrolls since a lot of movies were stories first.”

  “We can preserve that kind of stuff.”

  Her hazel eyes widened. “You can?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I might have to get creative since the city already sent me their proposal, but I can talk to them about adjustments.”

  The relief that crossed her face filled Austin with warmth.

  “That would be amazing. I thought that you’d start from scratch.”

  “No,” Austin said. “Is that what the mayor told you?”

  “She told me that they had no choice but to renovate since the building was violating some safety codes,” Everly said. “So, I guess I pictured a demolition.”

  The edges of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t want to laugh, because he could see that her distress had been real. “No demolition.”

  “No?” She was grinning now. “What are the basic plans?”

  He loved that she was smiling, and he loved that her whole demeanor had brightened. “Well, the structure is sound, but the wiring and sound system needs to be completely replaced,” he said. “The city wants new chairs and carpet, and we’ll have to upgrade concessions.”

  “No more smells of burnt popcorn and grease?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss that too?”

  “I think I will,” she said with a smirk. “What about the rest?”

  “How about I show you?” He nodded toward the door leading into one of the theaters. This would of course prolong their conversation, but Austin found he was rather enjoying time spent with this woman. It had been a long time since he’d had a conversation with a woman where there hadn’t been some sort of expectation of a relationship.

  This was no date, no expectation of any kind, and he liked that.

  “All right, I guess I have a few minutes.”

  Austin did smile then, but she’d already turned and was walking toward the theater. She was the one who’d come into the theater after hours, of course she had time.

  Austin caught up with her and opened the theater door before she could reach it. She passed by him, and yep, there was that subtle flowery scent of hers.

  For a moment, they were surrounded by complete blackness until he found the switch plate for the lights and turned them up as high as they’d go.

  Being in the empty theater again with her reminded him of the night before when she’d awakened him.

  “The architecture in here is basically a hodgepodge,” he said as they walked along the aisle. “I’m going to fix that.”

  She glanced at him. “How long have you been an architect? And did you always want to be one? You said you worked for your dad?” Her face flushed a pretty pink. “Sorry, lots of questions.”

  Austin found he didn’t mind. He also had questions. Like how old was she? And was she in a relationship? She didn’t wear a wedding ring amongst all of her other jewelry.

  “I took an architecture class in high school, and I fell in love with it. I was already a doodler, so expanding that wasn’t too much of an effort.”

  Everly’s brows drew together. “I’m sure it took plenty of effort.”

  “Oh, yeah, well, college did, but I love
the work.” He shrugged. “Now architecture is only part of my job. My dad’s construction business specializes in renovations, so when I started working for him, I wore many hats. He’s in recovery now from a surgery, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have been so involved in this project, since he was looking forward to coming to Hidden Hollows.”

  Everly started to move again, walking along a row, with her hand trailing the edges of the theater chairs. “How long will it take?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to determine.” He watched her turn and move into the next row. “I’d like to close only one theater room down at a time, then one theater could stay in operation.”

  “Oh, wow.” She stopped. “That would be amazing.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her smile bloomed. “Yeah.”

  Was she blushing again? Austin tried to remember the last woman who’d blushed around him. Rachel? He honestly couldn’t remember.

  A phone rang, and they both checked their pockets. Everly held hers up. “It’s me.” Then her brow furrowed when she looked at the screen. “I should take this.”

  She turned around and answered. “No, Mom, I’m still awake. You know me, I’m a night owl . . . Um, I haven’t had the chance to ask him yet.”

  Austin probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but there was literally no other person or distraction around. He was also curious about her pensive tone. Were things okay with her mom? Yet, it sounded like they were discussing a guy. Maybe Everly’s boyfriend?

  Austin couldn’t explain why that made him feel antsy. He’d barely met Everly, and yeah, he was enjoying talking to her and he found her interesting. But a lot of women were interesting, right? And beautiful. Everly happened to be both.

  Everly sat in the nearest chair with a sigh. “I will as soon as I can,” she said, her tone now resigned. “He’s so busy though, so I don’t want you to get your hopes up . . . Oh, that’s nice. Say hi to, um, Brock for me . . . Yes, I’m fine. It is late, so maybe I sound tired, but I’m fine . . . Okay, Mom, talk to you later.”

  She hung up then and buried her face in her hands with a groan.

  Austin stilled. Was she upset? Crying?

  He didn’t move, not wanting to intrude. Maybe she’d forgotten he was here, and maybe he’d overheard some personal stuff. Although it had been impossible to decipher.

  “Have you ever done something really stupid?” she mumbled.

  Austin blinked. She was talking to him, at least he thought she was, even though her face was still buried in her hands.

  He perched against the back of the chair he was next to, which put them about three rows apart. “I have.”

  Everly lifted her head, and he was glad she wasn’t crying at least. She only looked perplexed and maybe annoyed. At her mother? At whoever they’d been discussing?

  “Like what?” Everly asked.

  This caught Austin off-guard. “Um . . .” He knew the answer, but it was kind of personal. “When my wife told me she was going to stay a few nights a week at her friend’s place to be closer to her job and cut back on commuting, I agreed.”

  Everly blinked, but she was focused on him.

  Yeah, probably not what she expected to hear. “I agreed,” he repeated, “and I regret that. She was diagnosed soon after with cancer, and I think if I’d been around her more, I might have noticed her symptoms. Could have gotten her to the doctor sooner. Maybe she wouldn’t have died.”

  Everly covered her mouth with her hand in a gasp. Then she blinked rapidly and lowered her hand. “I’m really sorry, Austin. I had no idea, and I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things, but that tops them all.”

  Their conversation had gone to one-hundred-percent personal in about three seconds flat.

  “You can’t blame yourself for your wife’s cancer,” she said in a soft voice.

  “I know,” he said. “But the what ifs still plague me.”

  She didn’t speak for a moment, then she stood from the chair and walked down the row away from him. At the end of the row, she turned and walked into his row. She stopped a few feet from him, her hazel gaze on his. “I’m the queen of what ifs. I mean, my sister is marrying my ex-boyfriend in a few weeks, and to cope with it all and keep everyone from feeling sorry for me, I made up a guy I’m dating.”

  Austin stared at her.

  “And get this,” she continued. “Under pressure, I told them his name was Tom Middleston.”

  His mouth twitched. “They believed you?”

  “Completely,” Everly said. “My sister and her fiancé, who is probably related to you by the way since his last name is Hayes, invited me on a double date in order to meet Tom.”

  Austin smiled.

  “It’s not funny.”

  A laugh escaped him. “It’s a little funny.”

  Her lips curved. “Maybe a little funny, but now I’ll have to go through a fake breakup. A real breakup is hard enough.” Her eyes rounded. “Of course, I’m not complaining, I mean, you’re dealing with real tragedy.”

  Austin’s smile didn’t diminish though. “I’m sure we could spend all day comparing our sad lives, but maybe we could do it over food somewhere? I’m starving.”

  Everly opened her mouth, then shut it. She was definitely blushing.

  “Or . . . not,” he said. “Would Tom be upset?”

  She blushed even more. “Um, it’s kind of late. For Hidden Hollows.” She glanced at her cell phone. “Every place closes by eight or nine on a week night.”

  He straightened. He’d crossed the line. Big time. “Good to know. I’ll have to grocery shop then, maybe keep my place better stocked.”

  Everly smoothed back some of her hair. He’d made her nervous, and that bothered him. He didn’t want her to be nervous around him. “The grocery store is closed too.”

  He nodded. Figured. He probably had some granola bars in his truck.

  “But I could make you something,” she said quickly. “At my place. It will be simple since I don’t have a full kitchen, but it would be better than going to bed hungry.”

  He held her gaze for a second. Was she just being nice, or was she sincere in her offer? Because he really was hungry, and well, he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. Still, he hesitated.

  “I have a cat,” she said with a slight wince. “Only one, though. I’m not a cat lady or anything . . . I’m not that pathetic, but I thought I should let you know in case you’re allergic.”

  “I’m not allergic.”

  Her smile was tentative as she again smoothed back her hair. “Okay, then, whatever you want to do. I don’t think Tom would mind. He’s never around anyway.”

  Austin laughed, and Everly grinned.

  “Okay, I’d like to see more of Hidden Hollows anyway.”

  7

  Everly

  What had she been thinking? Inviting Austin Hayes to her dumpy little apartment above the craft store of all places? This good-looking, well-dressed guy with an amazing career as a professional architect and a previous wife who’d probably been sophisticated and gorgeous would certainly get a kick out of her tiny box of a home.

  And of all things, Everly had offered to cook for him. She was not the greatest cook. Yes, she could make a dozen or so things decently, but had she ever cooked for Brock? She honestly couldn’t remember. If she had then it had been utterly unremarkable.

  Yet, here Everly was, pulling into the parking lot behind the craft store with Austin’s white truck rumbling behind her. She parked, then climbed out of her car. And there he was. Climbing out of his truck. This was really happening.

  “This way,” she called in a voice that she hoped sounded nonchalant, yet was tinged with nervous energy.

  She was being a good neighbor. He was a widower, for crying out loud. A man who’d been married to the love of his life. A tragic hero who was in a new town, away from home, and had no food at his place. Big deal if she made him scrambled eggs
and toast. He’d be appreciative, right?

  Of course, he would. Austin Hayes was proving to be a decent guy. One who really listened to her. Offered compromises about her beloved theater and hadn’t been put off by her personality yet.

  And . . . the lock to the back door of the shop was stuck. She rattled her key in the lock, then tried again. Nope. Nothing. “Hang on,” she said, pulling out her key, then sticking it back into the lock again.

  On the odd day, the lock wouldn’t turn for whatever reason. Her boss had told her more than once that she’d get it replaced. Well, that day hadn’t been today.

  She glanced at him. “Sorry, it gets stuck sometimes.” This close up, his eyes were dark brown beneath the light over the back door. His clean spice scent was as she remembered it. Nice. She tugged her gaze from appreciating how his t-shirt pulled across his chest and emphasized the broadness of his shoulders.

  She stuck the key into the lock again. Maybe this had all been a bad idea.

  “Can I try?” Austin said after Everly had attempted pulling out the key and putting it back in about eight times.

  “Sure.” She handed him the key and moved back.

  Austin stuck the key in, wiggled it a bit, then turned it again. The door unlocked.

  Her mouth fell open. “How did you do that?”

  Austin flashed her a smile. “I was a latchkey kid, and my parents’ back door was as stubborn as a mule.”

  “Huh,” she said. He had a really great smile, but she wouldn’t let it affect her. The last thing she needed to be doing was acting like she’d never invited a man up to her place. Brock had been there a few times, but they’d normally hung out at his place.

  Austin pushed open the door and motioned for her to go ahead of him.

  She walked into the shop. The night lights glowed just enough to lead the way to the stairwell and the door that said Do Not Enter.

  “I’m up here,” she said, then looked behind her.

  Austin had stopped, his hands on his hips, looking around the place.

  “Pretty great, huh?” she said. And it was. The craft store was pristinely organized, with about every knickknack a crafter could want.

 

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