Page 77 of The Lies I've Told
“I might have burned a few things growing up. There’s maybe a lack of trust associated with my baking abilities.”
I grinned. “And so you thought testing them out on an inn full of guests would be a great idea?”
She turned to me, the once spacious pantry feeling quite small with us so close together. It gave me wicked ideas of what we could do in here with the door closed.
“Did you really try to impress a girl with baking?” she asked, her big blue eyes staring up at mine.
“What?”
I could see she was almost annoyed by the words coming from her mouth, but she went ahead anyway.
“The morning after we first slept together,” she explained, “I asked about your expert egg-cracking, and you said you’d learned it to impress a girl.”
A smug smile formed on my lips. “You’re jealous?”
“What? No! Maybe. A little.”
I pulled her closer, the heat from her body doing things to me that probably shouldn’t be thought about in a place where flour was stored.
“It’s just that there are all these things I want to do with you—like bake my grandma’s famous hush puppies—but then I wonder,Does he even like baking? I don’t know. Maybe this girl dumped him, and now he actually hates all things baking-related. The point is, I don’t know anything about you, but I want to.”
My heart had quickened as she rambled.
Have you even told her?
No.
Why? Don’t you think she deserves to know? To have the choice?
She’ll stay…and maybe it will be great for a while—really great—but eventually, I’ll just become that mistake she made, and I can’t be the reason she ruined her life.
A vision of us in the future, making dinner with her family suddenly came to mind. Her mother would ask me to chop the vegetables, and the room would go silent because, all at once, they’d realize the grave error in her words.
Mother, Aiden can’t do those things anymore, remember?
And then the sad stares would come, and though she’d try to hide it, I’d see Millie’s eyes flash with disappointment.
Because I’d failed her.
Oh God, what was I doing?
Meeting her family and having dinner like I belonged?
“I’ve got to go,” I said, causing her eyes to widen. “Headache. I can’t.” I reached for my temple. “I’m sorry, Millie. Give my apologies to your parents.”
I left her there, standing in the pantry, as I avoided her mother’s gaze and made a beeline for my suite.
I never looked back.
The room was dark. The house had been quiet for hours, and still, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of the old cedar house. I thought about that first night with Millie and how she’d seemed to be a gift from heaven, sent just when I needed her most.
But I’d been in an alcohol daze, so drunk on the idea of her that I hadn’t been able to think clearly.
And wasn’t that the exact definition of love?
It made you crazy, impulsive, and completely irrational.
That was how I felt around Millie McIntyre.
