Chapter 11 #2
Reaching down, I grab Fable’s chair leg. It skids across the hardwood floors as I drag it next to mine. She lets out a little yelp, planting her hand on my thigh to balance herself. With a shameless grin, I curve my arm around her shoulders.
“We can get some if you miss them,” I offer. “I promise not to take any to the river this time.”
“You’d be dead meat,” she threatens, her nails digging into my leg. “You think I don’t know how to hide a body? I listen to a lot of true crime podcasts.”
I slide my fingers through the ends of her silky hair. “Wouldn’t doubt you for a second.”
Our conversation turns to the Volunteer Fire Department (apparently Chief Harver is very excited about me returning), Vivian’s day at the hospital (where a woman delivered a baby right in the emergency room waiting area), the budding romance between Logan and Mabel (word on the street is, there’s a townwide betting pool for who everyone thinks is going to make the first move).
We’re on our last sips of our drinks when Maddox asks, “Have you heard back about Little League?”
I shake my head. “Nah, no one’s called me back yet.”
Vivian’s gaze bounces between Fable and me. “Are you two going to coach together?”
“Fabes is more of a soccer girl,” I say, squeezing her shoulder.
“Used to be,” she corrects. “That was a long time ago.”
It may have been, but I remember every detail of her on that field.
I was supposed to be there cheering for Mia, but Fable had most of my attention.
Her fierce expression. The quick, powerful movement of her legs.
Those two braids swinging at her back as she ran.
Her whoop of excitement when her ball made it past the goalie.
A force to be reckoned with.
“She still has the division record for most goals in a season, girls and boys. And she set it as a sophomore,” I announce, and Fable shifts in her seat.
“You should’ve seen her on that field. Once she set her mind to something, she was unstoppable.
She’d blow right past the other team and make it look so easy. ”
Fable stiffens. There’s a flicker of emotion in her eyes as she peers up at me. I don’t know what to make of it, but it’s almost . . . strained. My fingers fold around her shoulder, offering comfort for whatever’s going through her head.
“Damn,” Vivian says. “Do you still play?”
She lets out a bitter, uncomfortable laugh. “No. I peaked in high school. Haven’t kicked a soccer ball since my first year of college.”
An awkward quiet hovers over the room—like none of us know what to say next—before Fable clears her throat and stands, excusing herself to the bathroom.
“Think they bought it?” Fable asks as I come to a stop in front of her cabin.
“Bought what?” I pull the key from the ignition.
“The relationship. Even with your slipup about seeing my bed, you were surprisingly convincing. Getting me refills, dipping your pizza in my ranch like you do that all the time. So casual.”
My lips twitch once. Twice. And then before I know it, I can’t hold back my laughter anymore.
“What?” she asks, suspicious.
Fuck, I have to tell her. “Um. I thought I told you about this . . . but it seems like I didn’t.” I wince. Her face is full of shadows, but I can still make out her wary look. “Maddox and Vivian know the truth—that we’re just faking it.”
A beat of stunned silence stretches between us. Her lips part, shut, part again. Then she opens the door and is out of the truck before I can blink.
By the time I round the tailgate, she’s stomping up the steps to the porch. “I let you put your arm around me! I lied to a child!” She gasps, glaring over her shoulder. “I shared my ranch with you!”
“I’m sorry.” I follow her up. “Didn’t I text you about it?” I could’ve sworn I was typing that out at work yesterday—oh, shit. That was right before we were called out to that emergency at the animal shelter. I must’ve forgotten to finish it.
“Better watch your back, Theo.”
“Noted. Reason number 8,976.”
She stops at her door and turns. “It’s truly a miracle I’ve made it through your presence this long without murder. That insulation is the only reason you’re still around.”
My gaze travels from her narrowed eyes to her flushed cheeks to her crossed arms. “You know, sometimes I think you actually enjoy my company. More than you want to admit.”
One side of her lips curves up. Sassy and sexy. “Expert-level faking it.”
I’m not buying that. “You mean every time your cheeks turn that pretty shade of pink and your eyes go sparkly—it’s all fake?”
“You’re not as irresistible as you think,” she insists, but I don’t miss the way her gaze flickers to my mouth.
My pulse thrums in my ears. “I don’t believe you.” I steal one step forward, and her back hits the door.
Moonlight shines on her wide eyes. Her throat works on a swallow.
“Are you faking it right now?” I ask, planting my hands on the door beside her arms and leaning in until her scent fills my lungs. Fresh spring air and flowers and Fable. I inhale it—breathe her in like my life depends on it.
“Yes,” she whispers, her quick breaths warm against my cheek. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I fight my hands not to touch her. “I’m actually plotting where I’ll bury your body when this is over.”
“Oh, yeah?” I drift closer until my lips nearly brush her ear. “So, the way your breaths are coming faster—that’s for show?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, low and smooth, and it shoots straight to my blood.
“That’s really good,” I whisper, my voice thick.
She makes a soft, smug sound. “Are you faking it right now too? Because your voice is abnormally deep, Theo.”
I almost choke on the way my name sounds from her lips, this close and intimate. But I’m having too much fun with this little game to let her win that easily. “Yeah, I have a lot of experience.”
“With women faking it around you?” She tsks. “What a shame. Thought you’d be better than that.”
“Mmm.” I breathe in her scent again, letting it drug me, lull me closer to the inevitable high. “So you’ve been thinking about me,” I murmur, way too pleased at the idea.
A little growl of annoyance bursts out of her, and in a flash, she ducks under my arm and steps away. Cool air rushes back into my lungs.
She whirls to glower at me, half-dazed and flustered in a way I’ve never seen her.
A heady thrill zips up my spine. I’ve either royally pissed her off or she’s more affected by me than she wants to admit. Either way, it’s a win and I’m going to savor it.
“It’ll be the manure pile in the back field,” she decides, crossing her arms and tightening her jaw. “That’s where I’ll bury you.”