Page 27 of What Started In Deception

He studied the wooden planks that had been stained a pretty honey color. “It looks new.”

“It is. I had it put up earlier this spring. I’m going to add a patio for get-togethers. Right off the porch here.” She pointed to the grass beyond the glass door. “It’s on my August agenda. I already picked out a gorgeous stamped concrete design for the floor. I’m looking forward to adding some pretty furniture so everyone will be comfortable, but mostly, I’m excited because I can finally buy a grill.”

“Grills and get-togethers pretty much go hand-in-hand.”

She smiled. “Exactly.” Then she took a bite of her salmon. “This is really good.”

He liked that she liked it. “Good.”

Their conversation ebbed as they ate, and he sensed the awkwardness that was never far away coming back. “What are you thinking about?”

She shrugged as she glanced up from her meal. “I guess I’m wondering how we’re ever going to get to a place where all of this feels natural.”

“Tonight seems like it’s going okay.”

She nodded. “It is.”

“Maybe we can both offer up little things about ourselves. Like when you told me about your mom and the flowers on the table.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

“Maybe you can tell me about your tattoos.” He gestured to the insides of her wrists and the subtle writing that was inked into her skin. He’d been curious about them since the moment she’d become his target, especially when they’d been impossible to read in every picture that he’d been able to catch a glimpse of them. Now was the first time it seemed appropriate to ask her about them.

She glanced at her inner arms as her posture grew stiff. “My tattoos are personal.”

He nodded. “Exactly. They would be something I would know about.”

She exhaled quietly, bringing her right wrist closer for him to examine. Lidybug. “This one is my dad’s handwriting. I found it on an old card that he and my mom gave me.” She smiled as she stared at the tattoo. “It was his nickname for me. When I think back, I can’t remember him ever using my name. It was always Lidybug.”

He smiled as their eyes met. “That’s really nice.”

She nodded, extending her left arm to him, showing him the pretty looping writing. I love you more. “My mom always said this to my brother and me. It’s the last thing she said to me.”

Suddenly, the evening turned heavy as she shared what had to be her deepest pain. He slid the pad of his thumb over her soft skin—over her mother’s words. “Thank you for telling me.”

She nodded as they both got back to their dinner, and several quiet moments passed. Eventually, she set her fork down. “Everything feels weird now. I don’t want things to be weird—or weirder than they already are.”

He grinned. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

“All right. I guess it never occurred to me to ask you if I’m stepping on any toes in the relationship department. I haven’t seen you with anyone over the last couple of weeks, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

She shook her head. “I’m not currently seeing anyone. I was in a serious relationship that ended a couple of years ago, but I’ve been on my own ever since, which I really like. Single seems to work for me.” She picked up her fork again. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t do relationships. My job takes up all of my time.” He took another bite of his vegetables, unable to deny that he was still curious about Lydia and her ex. “Do you guys keep in touch?”

She paused with her next bite. “Andy and me?”

He nodded.

She shook her head. “We were together for a while—a little over a year. Things didn’t necessarily end badly. They just didn’t work out.”

“Why didn’t they work out? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, I don’t mind,” she said as she set her fork down again. “He got a dream job in London. I didn’t love him enough to give up my life here in Oliver Heights, and he didn’t love me enough to stay, so we went our separate ways.”

“That sounds pretty healthy, I guess.”