Read Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2) for Free Online Page A

isn’t raining.”
    “No, honestly, a rainy weekend at the cabin sounds perfect.”
    “Do you want me to come keep you company?”
    Turning toward the wall, I press my forehead to it. There’s a part of me that would like nothing more than a weekend at the cabin with my Gigi. I’m afraid I’ll be terrible company, though. What I truly need is time alone to gather my thoughts in a place that doesn’t remind me of him.
    Knowing that he wants to rekindle whatever it was we had will surely resurrect the ghost of his presence in my place.
    “Can I take a rain check, Gigi?”
    “Only if you promise to cash it in, baby girl.”
    Man, I love my grandmother.
    “Cross my heart,” I whisper.
    “You should pack up and go now. That way it won’t be dark when you get there.”
    “Okay, Gigi. Thank you.”
    After we hang up, I make sure my tables are set before turning them over to Wendy. Thankfully, I’m not closing tonight so I’m only cutting out an hour early. In no time, I’m up in my place and shoving my crap into a bag. My grandparents only keep the essentials so I pack enough food and liquor to get me through the weekend.
    Once I have everything loaded into Lady, my silver convertible bug, I hit the road. First stop light I hit, I rummage through my CDs. Adele is on blast by the time the light changes to green.
    I can’t sing. That does not stop me from belting out song after song with her. Her music reminds me of the music Gigi would play when I was little. There aren’t any gimmicks or weird auto-tuned electronic overlays. That’s a guess since I know zip about recording music.
    Adele has a gift, one that is keeping me company all the way to the cabin. The rain starts halfway there and is really coming down while I park. I reach into the backseat for my bags and make a run for it. I’m soaked by the time I hit the front porch. After I unlock the door, I toe off my muddy sneakers so I don’t track a mess in.
    It’s darker than it normally would be because of the rain. Using the flashlight on my phone, I make my way into the kitchen to turn on the breakers. Once the electricity is hooked up, I switch on lights as I head back to the front porch. It sucks but the water cut off is out there and the rain has not let up. I step back into my muddy sneakers and turn it on as fast as possible.
    Back inside after my mad dash, soaked and alone, I start to second-guess how soothing a weekend at the cabin will be.
    “Time for a bubble bath,” I tell no one in particular.
    Many minutes later, cup of hot cocoa with a healthy splash of Baileys, I sink into the tub. Once the water is up to my chin, I’ve had my second drink of spiked cocoa, and I have a chance to enjoy the patter of rain on the roof. This is exactly where I need to be right now.
    Tonight, I’ll clear my mind. I’ll let the stress and pain of the last few months go. I’ll find my center and hold on tight to it. I’ll let the rain be my lullaby and I will get a good night of sleep.
    Tomorrow I will pro-con the crap out of whether or not letting Heath back into my life is what’s best for me. As much as I have relied on advice and guidance from my friends and family in the past, the decision needs to be all mine.
    Shifting my arm out of the tub, I reach for my mug. Before my time and long before people in town started the tradition of giving us funny mugs at Lola’s, my great grandmother had simple white ceramic mugs with her name printed on the sides.
    There are a couple of those mugs on the display case at the diner. Gigi has a couple more at her house, the rest, and there aren’t many left, are here. It’s one of the mugs I’m using now.
    A short while ago, I was undecided about whether I would take over Lola’s. It was over a cup of spiked cocoa with Gigi that I made up my mind to stay.
    I’ve been to a lot of places. More than once I’d get a wild hair and hit the road. Lola’s and this cabin are the closest I’ve ever come to feeling like I