Read Online Bad Girl by Night by Lacey Alexander - Free Book Online Page A

Den for lunch, and the Moosewood Deli seemed to be hopping for a Tuesday, every umbrella-covered table in the small outdoor seating area occupied.
    Schubert’s sat at a four-way stop, the front facade on the diagonal, as if one corner of the building had been cut off—and the same fading, scripted SCHUBERT’S sign had hung over the door for Carly’s entire life. A blast of airconditioning hit her as she walked inside. A couple of the tables in the small dining area were filled, and a few of the stools at the bar were taken by town cops in navy blue uniforms.
    Frank, gray-haired and balding, stood behind the bar chatting with the policemen, so she stepped up between two vacant stools where he’d see her.
    He smiled in her direction, reached beneath the counter, and pulled out a brown bag containing her sandwich and a bag of chips. “Four ninety-nine,” Frank said, hitting a few buttons on the old-fashioned cash register mounted behind the mahogany bar. And as she reached into her purse, extracting a five from her wallet, he resumed talking to the nearest cop. “Couldn’t find a nicer little town than Turnbridge, if you ask me,” he said. “Trust me—after a couple months here, you’ll never want to leave.”
    As Carly passed the money to Frank, he said to her, “This here’s the new officer the town just hired, Jake Lockhart.” And when, two stools away, the uniformed man turned toward her, it took her only a second to realize—he was her blue-eyed stranger.
    It was like a punch in the gut that left her light-headed. Jake, looking shockingly staid—even if just as handsome—in a police uniform, tilted his head slightly, appearing a little puzzled even as he clearly began to recognize her, too. Shit. Shit oh shit oh shit.
    “Nice to meet you,” she said quickly, then glanced away and grabbed up her bag, saying to Frank, “Keep the penny.”
    She was turning to escape, her heart thudding painfully against her chest, when the new town cop said, “Desiree?”
    Double shit. She just stood there, her face going numb.
    “No sir, this here’s Carly Winters,” Frank corrected him. “Runs Winterberry’s up the street—you’ve probably seen it. She makes some beautiful furniture—you oughta stop in, check out her work.”
    Jake blinked, met her gaze. And if she were a better actress, she could have appeared entirely unaffected, or even bemused, the way someone did when sincerely mistaken for someone else. But the brief window of time for that had fled and she knew, without doubt, he could see in her eyes that he hadn’t been mistaken, and that she was just a liar—a liar with a very different identity from the one she’d presented to him, a liar who’d fucked two men she didn’t know just as easily as she’d walked in here to get her lunch.
    She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, and his eyes never left hers as he said, “My mistake. Sorry.”
    She gave her head a light shake, all she could manage just now. “No problem,” she replied too softly, barely able to draw breath into her lungs. Then she forced out a quick, “See ya, Frank,” and made a beeline for the door.
    She couldn’t feel her legs, nor the checkerboard tile floor beneath her feet. She leaned on the big wooden door with all her remaining strength and burst out into bright sunlight, wanting to run.
    But running would only call attention to herself. And there was nowhere to run anyway. He was in her town. Where she lived. Where everyone knew her. This was her worst nightmare come true, the most horrific thing she could imagine. This can’t be happening. It just can’t.
    She walked quickly, her stomach churning, her breath still shallow. How the hell had this happened? He was Turnbridge’s new police officer? Not a pilot. Not a photographer. A cop . She’d been completely off the mark with that. But it hardly mattered. She had much bigger problems to worry about.
    He would tell people. Of course he would tell people.