Your Eyes Don't Lie Read Free Page A

smiled again and it did something to Makay’s heart, something she wasn’t at all sure that she liked. “Besides, I kind of miss the desert. There’s such a thing, at least for me, as too much ocean.”
    Makay laughed. “I grew up in Tucson, and too much ocean sounds rather good.”
    “Well, you could always move to LA for a while.” He held up two cans. “Where are you going to put these? Any more room?” His eyes went to the sacks she’d placed on the ground.
    “I have room!” Nate ran up to them. “We can put them in my sack.”
    The stranger looked at Nate and then back to Makay. Was it her imagination, or was his smile a little less bright? “It might bust that one, too,” said the man. “It’s a little small. But I have something in the car that will work.” He opened his trunk, pulled out a reusable cloth grocery bag, and began placing the cans inside. “The bag’s not mine, but it won’t be missed. I’m borrowing this car because mine is getting new brakes. Where’s your car? I’ll carry it there.” He hefted two of the plastic sacks as well.
    “Your car is in the middle of the road,” Makay pointed out. “I can do it, but thanks for your help.”
    “It’s not a road, it’s a parking lot. Plenty of room for people to get around. Won’t take but a minute.”
    “Our car’s over there.” Nate pointed to the Sebring.
    “What?” The stranger’s smile was back in all its vibrancy. “The blue convertible? No way. It’s in great condition. I was noticing it when you started throwing cans at me.”
    He’d been noticing the Sebring? The thought of Blaine Cooper, the man at the park, came unbidden to Makay’s mind. Had he called someone to follow her? Who was this supposedly helpful stranger really? Maybe not the Good Samaritan she thought he was. Maybe he worked for Cooper. She stifled a shiver.
    “I have a Sebring, too,” the stranger continued. “A bit newer model and sort of a steel gray. I bought it the last year they made the cars, so the body’s somewhat different, but I’ve always loved the look of the older models.”
    Makay relaxed slightly. She also noticed other Sebrings, so maybe he wasn’t following her. “Guess you can’t live in LA and not have a convertible.” She bet his car cost him ten times what she’d paid for hers, but her Sebring was in its thirteenth year, ancient really in car terms. Still, it had low miles. She’d bought it while living at Lily’s House from a college student who was heading home. Three thousand bucks, a deal too good to pass up. Back then, she’d still been optimistic enough to believe there would come a time when they wouldn’t be struggling on a daily basis. Occasionally she considered selling it, but when she researched the current resale price, it wasn’t worth giving up the dependable ride.
    “It leaks a bit of oil,” she said, “but besides that, it’s very reliable.”
    “Good to hear. I plan to drive mine till it falls apart. So far it hasn’t given me a bit of trouble. Well, except for needing new brakes, but you have that with any car.”
    They arrived at the car and Makay set her sack inside the trunk before reaching for those he carried. Her hand brushed against his and a current of something passed between them. Instinctively, her gaze flicked upward. His grin was still on his face, but it looked different somehow. Was she imagining it?
    “There you go.” His eyes wandered slowly over her face—or was that also in her imagination? “It was nice meeting you. Love your car.” With that he was gone, striding away to once again fold himself into the white sedan before Makay could give him back his cloth bag. She sighed.
    “What’s wrong?” Nate asked through a mouthful of chocolate bar.
    “Nothing.” She slammed the trunk. “Let’s get home.”
    At their apartment in Mesa, Snoop met them with a waggle of his whole backside and several deep barks. He was a mix of so many dogs that his mottled fur looked