Page 125 of Ly to Me

“You need jeans. Long ones.” I rolled onto my back, then reached for my phone on the nightstand, checking the time. “Think you can go get some and be back in about an hour?”

She propped herself above my chest, clutching the sheet to cover her breasts. Instinctively, I reached up to push the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as she stared down at me.

“You’re trusting me?” she asked.

“I love you. You love me. If you run, I know I’ll find you again. I won’t stop this time.”

“Mmm. Maybe I should run.”

“You run and I’ll fuck you so hard the whole town will hear you screaming.”

“They probably already did at your bar.” I smirked as she rested her chin on my chest. “What’re you gonna do while I’m out?”

“Dream about chasin’ you some more.” She smacked my chest, and I laughed. “I have phone calls to make. Cleaning to do. Groceries to order. The fun shit, you know?”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?”

My smile fell flat. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Dunno. Just figured that’s how most men…whatmost men expected of a wife.”

“Listen, sweetheart. I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do. You want to clean and cook and do laundry? That’s fine. But I prefer to share the work. If I see it needs to be done, I’m more than willing and happy to do it. It’sourhouse. Our lives together. Sharing everything with you is the only thing I ever wanted, and what you’ve given me by telling me you love me and that you want to stay…it’s more than I could have ever hoped for.” I pulled her in by the throat, kissing her parted lips. “Screw whatmost menexpect. You didn’t get married tomost men. You married me. The only thing I expect from you is to love me even when you hate me. Can you do that?”

Her fingers smoothed over the new tattoo—a necklace that matched her ring. I was right—it did look damn hot on her. “I can do that,” she answered softly.

“Good.” My thumb brushed the line of her jaw. “Now get up here and tell me how much you love me again.”

40

Lyra

The Escape

As I pulled out of the driveway in Car’s truck, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t leaving Alliston Springs all over again. That I wasn’t leaving Carver all over again.

I’m here for good.

My life—my upbringing—groomed me to be on the run. While the idea that I was staying started to settle in my head and heart, my nerves seemed to think something else entirely. My fingers tapped the worn steering wheel, my knee bounced, and my teeth scraped over my lips.

“You’re goin’ right back. You’re just getting jeans. That’s all,” I reassured myself, willing my muscles to loosen.

Which didn’t work.

Minutes later, I was opening a consignment shop’s door with shaky hands. I’d chosen a different place than where I’d gotten my dress from—one of three clothing stores in town. Faux leather squeaked, my hands wringing the strap of my purse as I walked farther into the store.

An elderly woman with short white curls came out from the back. “Can I help you find anythin’?” she asked.

“No. Yes. No.”Squeak. “I uh…”Squeak.“Maybe?”

She smiled sweetly—something that seemed as natural as breathing to her. “What’re you here for?”

My mind raced, eyes suddenly caught on the yellowed lights above. “Well, you see, I used to live right down the road, but now I—”

“Not in Alliston, sweet girl.” I sighed and pinched my eyes shut. When I opened them, the woman was a little closer, leaning on a rack of clothes. “You want some coffee?”

I nodded. “Yes, please, ma’am. That would be lovely.”

She started walking toward the back. I followed, leaving a decent gap between us as she talked over her shoulder. “I haven’t seen you ’round here, but I recognize that truck. You Carver’s new wife?”