Things Liars Fake: a Novella (a #ThreeLittleLies novella Book 3)(8)

I feel my face heat. “Yeah, me too.” I pause in front of the bathroom, gesturing. “Would you mind waiting? I have to…”

Pee.

“Here, let me hold these for you.” Dexter takes the tub of popcorn out of my hands, my water bottle, purse, and candy wrappers. “Do you wanna toss any of this in the trash?”

He is so sweet and nice.

“Sure. If you don’t mind. Wait! Maybe keep the popcorn?”

I’ll munch on that in the car.

A few minutes later, I’m washing my hands and rejoining Dexter, who holds my puffer vest out and open to assist me into it, and I pivot so I can slide my arms through the holes.

Sweet and nice and a gentleman.

A trifecta.

“This was fun,” he repeats when I turn to face him. I look him up and down, watching as he slips into his heavy wool coat. His shoulders might not be wide and athletic, but I can tell they’re lean and fit. I watch, riveted, as his masculine fingers deftly work the toggle buttons. They’re long, strong, and male.

Unexpectedly, in my mind, I’m picturing them running slowly under the hem of my sweater, over my bare stomach, and up my—

Crap. And here I thought Tabitha was the one with a vivid, sexy imagination. Or maybe I need to go reread her sexy romance novel. Again. For the fifth time.

Glancing away, I try to keep my dirty thoughts at bay. I mean, Jesus! What the hell am I doing, goggling the poor guy’s hands like they’re sexual objects?

If only he knew.

Raising my hands to my cheeks, I find them flaming hot: a common theme tonight.

My eyes continue tracking his movements; he pulls the winter hat out of his pocket, drawing it down over his mop of hair. His nose twitches, shifting his glasses into place; a move I find incredibly adorable, if not a tad dorky.

Swallowing hard, I smile. “It really was fun. It was nice having company for a change. I usually…” I draw in a breath. “Normally I come watch these old Sci-Fi movies, um. Alone.”

Dexter shifts his feet, and I look down at the brown dress shoes more suited for the office than a casual night at the cinema.

“Uh, so.” Dexter takes a deep breath, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. Exhales out. “So maybe…” He pauses to push up those tortoiseshell frames with the tip of his finger.

This is it. He’s going to ask me on a date.

I lean towards him, bucket of popcorn tipping, anticipation making my body hum. “Yes?”

Does my voice sound breathy? Over eager? Shoot. Cool it Daphne; bring the desperation down a notch.

Dexter hesitates, rocking back on his heels. “So maybe—”

“Dex, sweetie, is that you?” A shrill female voice interrupts his entreaty, causing us both to twist around, surprised at the woman approaching us at a hastened pace. Short with sandy blonde hair, the woman looks around my mother’s age and is sporting a wide, toothy grin. “I thought that was you! What a pleasant surprise.”

She envelopes him in a full contact hug, her arms squeezing.

“Aunt Bethany.” He sounds pained when she finally peels herself away. “I’m surprised to see you. Who are you here with so late?”


“Late?” She laughs, loud and tinkly, and checks her watch. “It’s only eleven forty-five on a Saturday night! I’m old but not that old.” Aunt Bethany’s eyebrows raise when focusing her attention on me, intense gaze alive.

Mischievous.

Her pink lips form an ‘O’ of glee.

“I don’t mean to intrude on your date. I just wanted to come over and say hello.” Aunt Bethany scrutinizes me with wide, interested brown eyes; not in a negative way. No. Quite the opposite—she’s so excited she almost looks euphoric. Ready to burst. “Dexter sweetie, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

She says the word friend innocuously enough, but what she really means is: friend-friend. As in: girlfriend.

Dexter sticks his hands back into the pockets of his thick coat. “Aunt B, this is my friend Daphne. Daphne, this is my mom’s youngest sister. My Aunt B.”

Bethany wastes no time extending her open arms towards me and pulling me in for a hug, which is super awkward since I’m still clutching my popcorn. Her embrace pins my arms to the side before she squeezes the life out of me, thereby crushing my bucket.

I’m positive a few kernels fall to the ground.

“So good to meet you,” I croak into her curly hair, gasping for air. Sneaking a glance over her shoulder at Dexter’s stricken face, I try desperately not to laugh.

I fail.

Aunt B gives me one more squeeze before releasing me, then steps back to look me up and down with a sigh. “You are gorgeous. Those green eyes are stunning. Dex, she’s gorgeous.”

Dexter blushes furiously, removing a hand from his pocket to adjust his glasses while his Aunt continues fussing, oblivious to his obvious discomfort.

“Where has he been hiding you! Never mind, don’t answer that; it’s none of my business. The real question is, are you bringing her to Grace’s engagement party next weekend? Wait, don’t answer that!”

I don’t want to embarrass Dexter further by reminding his Aunt we’re just friends; one’s who have only met twice—not that the first time at Ripley’s Wine Bar counts since we hardly spoke.