Page 23 of Living for Truth (Broken Shelves #2)

Morgan

O n Saturday morning, I take Aly to breakfast at our favorite bakery before heading over to my sister Alice’s house so they can go shopping for summer clothes for my not-so-little girl. Aly said she wanted to go with someone with “fashion sense,” and I pretended like it didn’t hurt my feelings.

It gives me the perfect opportunity to spend the day with Hannah.

Alice and Cooper live fifteen minutes away from us in a subdivision similar to ours with their four dogs.

They foster kids from time to time, but that’s the closest they’ll get to being parents.

Alice loves her job as a teacher, and Coop works as a civil engineer for the military and has to leave on temporary duty a few months out of the year.

They decided fostering and helping kids who need temporary homes was fulfilling enough for them.

Alice answers the door wearing bright orange overalls with a white tank top underneath. Her brown, chin length hair is up in two messy buns, and she’s got paint on one side of her face.

“Aly! I’m so excited to go shopping with you today.” Alice leans in close and stage whispers, “Good thing your dad isn't coming. He wouldn’t know fashion if it bit him on the arm.”

Aly laughs, and even though it’s at my expense, it warms my heart. She doesn’t laugh much, so I think this time with her aunt will be good for her.

“You’re right, Aunt Al. He wears the same things every day.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I do not.”

Alice and Aly both cross their arms and pop their hips, giving me a “get real” look that must be hereditary.

“Button-up shirts with floral patterns and chino pants. And when you’re not wearing those, you’re wearing basketball shorts and t-shirts.” Aly ticks them off on her fingers, and yeah, she’s not wrong.

I like what I like, and it’s hard for me to find clothes that fit and look good with my body type.

“Alright, alright. Should I wear bright overalls like your aunt, Aly?”

Aly scrunches her nose and then pretends to throw up, making Alice snort.

“I thought so. I’ll be back by dinner, but text me if you need me, and I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

Aly nods. “I’ll be okay, Dad. I promise. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

I rear back, and Alice looks at me. We say at the same time, “Girlfriend?”

Aly rolls her eyes. “You’ve been going out a lot recently, and I saw ‘Hannah’ texting you one day. But I didn’t read your messages! I’m okay if you have a girlfriend, Dad.”

Fuck, she’s going to make me cry. I thought she’d hate that I had a girlfriend—fake or not—and be upset I didn’t tell her immediately.

“I’ll talk to her today to see if she wants to come over for dinner sometime.” My throat is clogged from the emotions rolling through me. “I love you, Bub.” I pull her in for a hug, and she mumbles a “love you too” into my stomach.

Alice gives me a sharp look that means I’m in trouble for not telling her about Hannah. I just told her I was going out with a friend. “ We will be talking about this later,” she mouths.

I have no doubt we will, and it will turn into a family affair because my sister can’t keep secrets to save her life.

“Have fun, Morgy,” Alice sings as she and Aly head inside.

Anticipation and excitement sizzle through my veins, like they always do when I’m about to see Hannah.

I hope she likes what I have planned for today.

I told her to dress casually, but with good shoes since we’ll be doing some walking.

It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen her, rather than just three days.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

I park in the driveway next to her car and practically bounce to the front door. Shelly answers, giving me a scathing look, but I plaster on a smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Layton. I’m here for Hannah.”

She keeps her eyes on me as she calls out, “Hannah! Your friend is here.” The way she emphasizes “friend” makes me want to growl at the woman.

I briefly wonder if she knows we’re faking it, but there’s no way Hannah would tell her, and I think I’ve been pretty convincing thus far. Guess I just have to kick it up a notch for her mom.

Shelly steps aside, and Hannah comes out the door, nearly stealing the breath from my lungs.

She’s wearing another dress, but this one is a soft rose color with a gathered front, showing the tiniest bit of cleavage.

It cinches at her waist and flows out over her wide hips.

The material looks soft and flowy, and it takes all my reserve not to reach out and touch her.

She has on white sandals that look like they’re made of a foamy material so her feet won’t kill her by the end of the day.

Her hair is curled softly around her face, and her makeup is subtle, highlighting her plump lips and beautiful eyes.

The best part of her outfit is the necklace around her neck.

My necklace.

She’s effortlessly beautiful, and I get to look at her all day long.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say, holding my hand out for her to take it.

To my utter delight, she interlaces our fingers together. “Good morning.” She turns to her mom. “ I’ll be gone all day. I have my key.” Then she drags me down the porch steps to my car.

Strange. Their relationship is strained on a good day, but today seems different. Worse, somehow. It’s clear Hannah doesn’t want to talk about it, though because after I open the door, help her in, and climb into the driver’s seat, she says as chipper as she can, “What do you have planned today?”

“I thought we’d stop and get coffee at Daily Rise, then I have somewhere I want to take you to get your birthday present.”

She frowns. “Coffee sounds good; I love Daily Rise. But you already got me a birthday present.” She brings her hand to her neck and fiddles with the butterfly.

“That was only part one. I couldn’t give you your full gift at dinner.”

“Morgan…” she warns. “I said no presents.”

“I already broke that rule, Butterfly. You’ll find I’m quite the rule breaker.” I give her what I hope is a charming smile, and she rolls her eyes.

We pull up to Daily Rise and order—a classic cold brew for me and an iced caramel and vanilla latte for Hannah—then Hannah turns to me and asks, “Are you doing anything the weekend after next?”

I go over my mental calendar. Since Aly’s going to lunch with her mom next Saturday, there’s nothing on my schedule other than family dinner on Sunday. I tell Hannah about dinner, and she waves me off. “I was more worried about Saturday.”

“I’m free.” Is she going to ask me on a date?

“My cousin Elli’s boyfriend is performing with a big band, Keely and the Kissers. They’re stopping in Salt Lake that Saturday. Would you… Would you want to go? With me?”

I’ve never heard of the band, but it’s been a while since I’ve gone to a concert. Besides, why would I turn down an opportunity to spend more time with Hannah?

“I’d love to. Let me make sure someone can hang out with Aly, but I should be good to go.”

Hannah lets out a sigh like she’s relieved I said yes. How could she possibly think I’d say no?

“My cousin Emma will be there, too. She lives in San Diego now, but she’s visiting Utah during that time. So it’ll just be you and us girls until Wes can join us. Is that okay?”

I don’t think she knows her wanting me to meet her cousins means more to me than meeting her parents at this point. These are people Hannah chooses to be involved with. But it does beg the question, “Do they know we’re fake dating?”

Hannah blushes. “Kind of.”

Kind of? What the hell does that mean?

I don’t get a chance to ask because we’re given our drinks, and it’s time to drive to our second destination.

We make casual conversation about our weeks while we drive, and the comfortable silences in between make it feel like this is a regular Saturday morning. I can imagine Aly in the back seat, inputting her own opinions while we drive to a farmer’s market or head to get groceries.

The fantasy is so vivid it makes my heart ache. I want that. I want it so badly I can taste it.

When I stop in front of the store we’re going to, Hannah looks over at me skeptically. “Why are we here?”

Instead of answering, I hop out of the car and open the door for her, then lead her to the door of White Lilly Books—a local independent bookstore.

The bookstore is a perfectly square building painted white, with a bright blue door, and a mural of The Great Salt Lake on one side.

It sits nestled between a philly cheesesteak shop and a clothing boutique.

“Morgan,” she whispers as the bell above the door rings, but I ignore her still.

Jethro—the owner—a white man in his early sixties, with gray-blonde hair in two long braids over his shoulders and the kindest green eyes, makes his way around the checkout desk.

He’s probably only five-foot-ten, wearing jeans and an old Johnny Cash t-shirt today, along with his cowboy boots. He looks like a young Willie Nelson.

“Morgan, good to see you, my boy.” He grasps my hand tightly and turns to Hannah, who offers him her hand. “You must be the lovely Hannah Morgan told me about.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr…” Hannah trails off.

“Ah, where are my manners? I’m Jethro Lillywhite. I own this place.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lillywhite. I’m Hannah.”

Jethro waves her off. “Call me Jethro. Mr. Lillywhite sounds so pretentious. Now,” he claps his hands together, “Morgan tells me you’ve got ten minutes. Let me show you where every genre is so you won’t be confused.”

Hannah looks at me for an explanation, but I don’t offer one. Mainly because Jethro is dragging her around the shop pointing out the neatly organized shelves. There are a few customers milling about, doing their own shopping, but for the most part, it’s pretty quiet.

Once Jethro has shown Hannah the layout of the store, he brings her back to the front and hands her a canvas tote bag with the store’s logo on it.

“Alright, Chickadee, you’ve got ten minutes. Morgan will start the timer, and I’ll be at the checkout when you’re ready.” He pats me on the back and heads over to the checkout.

“Morgan, please tell me what’s going on,” Hannah pleads, inspecting the tote bag.

“Well, like Jethro said, you have ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes for what? ”

“Ten minutes to gather every book that caught your eye. You put them in that tote, and then I’m buying them for you.

” She goes to protest, but I hold up my hand.

“I know you’re going to say it’s too much.

But I saw you stop and check out at least ten books, so if there aren’t ten books in that bag, I will pick them out myself. ”

“But, why? Why would you do this for me?” Hannah nibbles anxiously on her bottom lip.

I shrug. “Because books make you happy, and I want to make you happy.” That barely scratches the surface of what I want. But it’s the best explanation I can give right now. I pull out my phone and open the timer app, showing it to her I say, “Your time starts… now.” And she’s off.

She heads straight for the romance section, unsurprisingly. She spent the most time there with Jethro.

I meander over to the counter to wait for her, not wanting her to think she’s being watched the whole time. I meant what I said, I’ll add more books if she doesn't pick out at least ten.

“How did you think of this?” Jethro asks, clicking away on the computer behind the counter.

“My sister saw a viral video of a husband who did this for his wife. He did it in a Barnes and Noble, but I wanted to go local. Hannah loves books, but I would never want to just buy her some because I don’t know what she wants to read. This seemed like a good gift for her.”

Jethro hums. “She seems very special to you.”

I watch her move from romance over to the historical fiction section, and my heart swells.

“She’s the most special.”