LIES WE TELL– Exclusive Excerpt

Owen glanced up as I crossed the weed-strewn yard. He jumped to his feet, back against the tree, feet spread wide like he was bracing for an attack. I stretched out a hand. “It’s okay. I come in peace.” His shoulders lowered a notch, but he didn’t move. I forced a smile. “I’ve got some brownies. I thought you might like one.” The Owen of my youth had loved any and all things chocolate. Surely, that hadn’t changed.

“Yeah? Thanks.” He didn’t smile but took the proffered container and withdrew one of the brownies.

I sat on the grass beside him. After furrowing his brow, he resumed his place at the base of the tree. We ate in silence. He closed his eyes, humming in approval after each bite. When his long lashes fluttered open, our eyes met, giving me another vicarious thrill deep within my core. The feeling added to my confusion. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but how could I not? He’d been my first kiss, my first crush, my first date. I’d given him my virginity. I hadn’t stopped loving him by choice. He’d ended it. Not me.

“It’s good. Thanks.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip to capture a crumb. My gaze snapped to the fullness of his mouth. A blush spread across his cheeks, at odds with his overt masculinity. He cleared his throat. “Did you make these?”

“Yes. I’m still addicted to sweet things.”

“Me too.” The cool gray-green of his irises warmed a few degrees. “I always wondered if you’d kept up with your baking.”

He’d thought about me. The knowledge shook my fragile composure. I plucked at a clover next to my knee, afraid he’d see my thoughts. “It takes my mind off things, but it hasn’t done much for the size of my ass.”

A rusty chuckle rumbled through his chest like he hadn’t laughed in a very long time. “Your ass looks great. I mean—” Another, brighter flush of pink deepened his sunburned skin. “You look good. The same. Better.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll just shut up now.”

“Thanks. You look great too.” I took in the swell of his biceps, straining against the sleeves of T-shirt, and the long, thick vein running from wrist to elbow. “You must hit the gym a lot.”

One of his shoulders lifted and fell. “Work keeps me in shape.”

An awkward silence stretched between us. I wanted to ask a million questions about where he’d been and what he’d been through, but I didn’t know how to begin. Once upon a time, we’d been the best of friends. Today, with the burden of deception and untruths between us, we struggled to make polite conversation.

“Your boyfriend seems nice,” he said, breaking the silence.

“You talked to Michael?”

“He came around and introduced himself to all of us. Checking us out, I guess.” He shifted, lifting his knees and resting his forearms on top of them.

“He is. He’s a good man.” Talking about Michael with the former love of my life made me uneasy like I was being disloyal to them both. I bit my lower lip.

“Have you been together very long?”

“Three months.” More awkward silence.

“How’s Lanie?”

“She’s good. Married with three kids and one on the way.”

“Really?” For the first time, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s great. I’m happy for her.”

Relieved to find a neutral topic, I blundered on. “You should see her. You wouldn’t believe the way she is now. She’s the ultimate soccer mom with a van and a house full of clutter.”

“Tell her I said hi, would you?”

“I will.” The wind rattled through the branches overhead, bringing with it a bank of gray clouds and the promise of rain. His gaze roamed over my face, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give. I picked at my fingernails, anything to avoid looking straight at him. The questions kept building inside me until I thought I would bust. Finally, I blurted, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“That was the plan,” he said. His reply stirred up the feelings of rejection that I’d fought so hard to overcome. “If I’d known you were here, I wouldn’t have taken this job, but you changed your name. I didn’t know it was you.”

“I’m divorced, and I kept my ex-husband’s name. Stella Valentine sounds so much better than Estelle Strunk.” I forced a smile. “It was easier to reinvent myself with a new name.”

“I liked Estelle Strunk, but I’m sure Stella Valentine is a great person.” The kindness in his eyes wrenched my guts. I didn’t deserve his pity. “So, you were married? What happened there? I thought for sure you’d have a house with a picket fence and a couple of kids by now.”

He wasn’t you. But then, no one had ever compared to Owen, not even Michael. My marriage had been a desperate attempt to find stability after a childhood of shuffling between foster homes. Even though the divorce had been amicable, I still regretted the mistake. “What about you? What have you been up to?” The second those words left my mouth, I wanted to bite my tongue. Idiot. I scrambled to cover my mistake. “Have you been working with Dad for very long?”

“A couple of years.” His gaze dropped to the remaining brownies. I nudged the container toward him.

The crunch of tires on gravel interrupted our conversation. Three white sedans stopped in front of us. The black and gold shields on their doors made the brownie curdle in my stomach. Owen stiffened. The doors opened, and uniformed policemen exited. A stocky guy, about my age, placed one hand on his holster and approached us while the others formed a wall behind him.

“Fuck.” Owen exhaled a heavy sigh and tossed his half-eaten brownie into the tall grass.

“Good afternoon,” the officer said. His gaze locked onto Owen.

“Good afternoon,” I replied.

“How’s it going, Roger?” Owen asked, his voice even. He unfolded his limbs and stretched to his full height, moving slowly.

“Can’t complain.” The man kept his hand on the gun, like he thought Owen might make a break for it.

“I’m Stella Valentine. I don’t believe we’ve met.” I scrambled to my feet and extended a hand.

“I’m Officer Coley.” For the first time, his focus turned to me. The way his attention slid over my breasts and bare legs sent a shiver of unease down my back. My hand dropped to my side. “Is this your place, Ms. Valentine?”

“Yes. I just moved in.” I shifted my gaze from Owen to Officer Coley and back again. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“My business is with Owen. You mind coming down to the station with me?”

“Do I have a choice?” Tension crackled through the space between the three of us.

“Not really.” The smirk on Coley’s face suggested this was more than business. It was personal.

“Can I ask what this is about?”

“There was a robbery down at the convenience store this morning. Owen, here, fits the description.”

“You’re kidding, right?” No one looked at me. They were all concentrating on Owen like he might bolt. “I can assure you, he’s been here all morning.”

“I appreciate your concern, Ms. Valentine, but this doesn’t concern you. We’ll sort it all out at the station.” He jerked his head at Owen. “Let’s go.”

Even though he’d broken my heart, even though we were familiar strangers, I still felt something for him, a responsibility. I shifted from one foot to the other. Eighteen years ago, I’d stood by helplessly as the police hauled him to jail and later prison. Was fate playing some kind of cruel joke? Testing me? Office Coley smiled, the lines tightening around his mouth. I wrung my hands while weighing my options. I didn’t know Owen anymore. Time changed people. Ten years in a maximum security facility could turn the saintliest man into a hardened criminal.

“Is he under arrest?” I hated myself for doubting him almost as much as I hated him for coming back into my life.

“Let’s just say that he’s a person of interest.”

“It’s fine, Stella. We do this all the time, don’t we, Roger?” Although Owen’s voice was calm, a muscle in his jaw ticked. “Tell Dad where I’m at. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Owen walked calmly to the car. He spread his long legs and placed his hands on the hood. The cop slid his hands over Owen’s hard chest, turned his pockets inside out, and patted down his legs. I watched, horrified, as Owen was cuffed and placed in the back seat. The sight brought back vivid memories of our past. The car backed out of the driveway, splashing through potholes and into the street. This was too much. History had repeated itself in front of my very eyes, and once again, I’d done nothing to stop it.

**This is a dark romantic suspense about how one lie changed the lives of 3 people. This book does not contain cheating.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Lies We Tell was formerly released as Monster Love. This version contains new content.

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