The Truth In Lies

Chapter Three

Dalilah

The familiar smell of fabric woven into yarn was one Dalilah found comfort in, like fresh linen mixed with a deep-rooted creative flow that promised to turn into a variety of clothing. In the small storage room at the back of the store, that smell was wonderfully concentrated. Her fingers tingled to start working on a crop top sweater at the sight of any yarn as she took inventory of the hundreds of colorful, delicate, and bulky yarn in the back of her little store. Her happy place. Clipboard in hand and pencil creating a bridge between her lips and fingers, she found herself staring at the different colors and grinning at what she had accomplished rather than actually taking inventory.

Her own yarn shop was all she ever wanted and she worked so hard to invest in it. Even though the lighting flickered, the storage space was far too small, causing her to stack boxes in the center of the room instead of on the racks that wrapped around the black walls, and there was no windows, she thought the vintage feel of the old building paired nicely with the cozy feel she wanted her store to have. At least that was what she told herself.

She reached out and touched the chunky wool that ran softly under her fingertips, thinking that the twisted purple and orange yarn would make a great shawl.

The door burst open, making Dalilah flinch and retract her hand back to the eraser of her pencil that was hanging between her teeth. Willow raced inside like a fire was under her, tight spiral hair as unruly and wild as her brown eyes, a wide smile that showed off her pearly white teeth and some of her gums. Her flushed cheeks displayed an uncharacteristic, fallen-in-love rouge. "Dalilah!" Willow whisper-yelled, black fringed bangs getting swiped aside to show off her smooth dark complexion. The door slammed closed behind her and she leaned her back against the door while breathing heavily, flustered.

Dalilah put a hand over her chest to slow her heart rate. "Geez, you scared me."

"There is a man outside."

With narrowed eyes, Dalilah shifted her gaze to the side, questioning why that was cause for such an influx of energy for a typical situation. "Great," she dragged out the word, "can you help him?"

Willow's hands snatched the clipboard and set it down on a pile of boxes that still needed to be unpacked. She placed her hands on either of Dalilah's shoulders. "Not just any man. An incredulously sexy man. I've never seen a specimen quite like him before."

Dalilah laughed and flung her head back. "You are so boy crazy, yet you can't talk to one. Would you just go help him? Then you can ask him out. But make sure he buys something because we need the income."

"I can't," she explained with an eyeroll.

Dalilah crossed her arms. "Why not?"

Her dark brows lifted, exposing her large eyes that complemented her other smaller features. "Because he asked for you."

A slimy shiver spindled down her spine as her back stiffened with alert. She planted both hands on Willow's arms and squeezed. "No. Tell Dominic—tell him I'm not here." A sudden rush fled her as if he was there, watching her lie.

Willow shook her head and smiled wider. "It's not Dominic."

"Oh," she said with a concealed relief washing over her. "Who is it then?"

Willow shrugged, maneuvered her hands to Dalilah's back and shoved her toward the door. "I don't know, but can you send him my way?"

"Sure." She giggled. She stepped past Willow and turned the gold knob, pushing open the door that led behind the counter in the back of the store while eyeing her frazzled employee. Dalilah turned her head away from Willow to face the stranger, beached-tousled ponytail whipping around her head. She glanced at the dark-haired man who was, at least, a foot taller than her and wore a fitted black coat with a simple gray shirt beneath. His large hands were perched on the counter top, gripping it like he was ready to either crush it or lurch over it. When she felt his penetrating gaze lingering on her face, she met them, and what she saw startled her. She took in his face with irrevocable attraction. Steely dark eyes glistened beneath hooded brows that led to a pointed nose, thin lips, and stubble that covered his high cheekbones and hollow cheeks. It had been a while, and she wouldn't have recognized him if she hadn't sufficiently stalked his social media over the years. She was quick to determine that his photos did not do him justice. Pining over the man she had always had a silly little crush on via a computer screen was a stark contrast to the overwhelming and intimidating sight of him standing in front of her, seeming to want to devour her.