Ronan
ronan
A nother day, another break-in. That made four in the last two weeks, and people were starting to worry. Not that the thief was dangerous—I didn’t think so, anyway—but people were terrified of losing their belongings to the burglar. I understood it, but calling and yelling at me all day wouldn’t make us catch him any faster.
All it did was wear me down even more.
I’d been able to sleep the other night, but not again since. Even playing those scenarios about Willow in my mind, watching them unfold like a movie, didn’t help. I was still wide awake, and it was starting to drive me crazy.
I shifted my truck into park and wasted no time hopping out and trudging up the walkway to the house. I paused when I got to my door, surprised that Willow wasn’t playing music tonight. Tilting my head toward her side, I sniffed, but there was no scent of food cooking.
I glanced over my shoulder, and, yeah, her car was there. She was home. A part of me wondered if I should check on her, just to make sure she was alright. But I couldn’t do that. She’d tell me to get lost, and I didn’t think my ego could take anymore abuse today.
With a sigh, I pushed the door open and did my nightly ritual of locking and unlocking the door, hanging my things, kicking off my boots, and heading to the kitchen to heat up a microwave meal.
I plugged the microwave in and braced my hands on the counter as I watched the black plastic tray spin through the little window. It wasn’t all that appetizing, if I was being honest. But I needed food, and it would do.
After it beeped, I slid the tray onto a plate and unplugged the microwave, checked the stove, then headed to the table, a fork and beer in my free hand.
After such a chaotic day, routine was relaxing. Knowing what came next, knowing there were no surprises on the way, it was enough to make my shoulders drop slightly, some of the tension leaving me.
The center of my meal was slightly cold, as was expected, but I still ate it. I didn’t want to deal with reheating anything. Honestly, I just wanted to wash this shitty day away in a hot shower and lie in bed. Even if I wouldn’t sleep, being horizontal sounded like a dream right now.
I was almost done with my meal when a knock sounded at my door. The fork paused halfway to my mouth as I flicked my gaze to the door, unable to do anything but stare at the piece of wood separating me from the person on the other side.
Who was it?
I groaned as I dropped my fork to the tray, listening to the metal clatter against plastic. God, I really hoped it wasn’t a townie coming to berate me. Or worse, one of my deputies telling me we had another break-in.
Trudging across the living room, I yanked the door open, ready to tell whoever it was I was off duty, that I’d be at their disposal tomorrow, but the words died on my lips as a pair of bright green eyes stared up at me.
Her face was pale, but there were spots of blush on either cheek. Her lips were glossy, and her lashes were coated in a thick layer of mascara.
She was wearing more makeup than I was used to. And her hair looked…nice. Smooth and straight, not its usual wavy mess. Her dress was pretty, too. She usually wore dresses, but this one was different. It was nicer than anything I’d seen her in before. It was off-white, and hit her mid-thigh. Flowy, with an almost doily fabric, but it looked good on her. Fitted around her breasts with a slight dip to show off her cleavage, but it flowed out around her waist.
She looked pretty. Too pretty for a random weeknight. Was she going on a date? But why would she stop by here first?
“Hi,” she said, shifting the basket in her arms. “I, um, I brought you this.” She held it between us, her limbs shaking.
I could do nothing but stare at it. “Okay.”
“It’s chocolate muffins, chocolate cookies, chocolate—well, everything is chocolate.”
I slowly blinked as I stared down at her, then shifted my gaze to the basket. “Okay,” I said again. It was the only word I could manage.
“Do you think I could come in?”
No.
The word nearly came out, but I stopped it. Willow had never come into my place before. Ever. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last person who’d been in here other than Trinity. I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the bareness of everything, and my grip on the door tightened.
“Uh—”
“It’s just for a minute. I need to talk to you about something. It’s really important.”
My curiosity was piqued. She wasn’t usually like this. Shy, unsure. Nervous.
Scared, almost.
As soon as it hit me that she was scared , I stepped aside, not caring about the lack of decor in my house anymore.
“Yeah, of course. Come in.”
She made her way inside, her sweet scent whirling around the air as she passed, taunting me. I looked away as she took everything in. I didn’t want to see her judgement.
I locked the door seven times, because if I didn’t, there was no way I could focus on whatever she needed to say. When I turned, she was right there, just inches from me. I jolted back, not expecting her to be so close.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she rushed out, stumbling back a step. She nearly ran into the couch, but I grabbed her arm at the last second, stopping her.
“Sit down. Please.”
Before she hurt herself, dear god.
She sank onto the chair— my chair, and my teeth ground together. I had to keep calm. I couldn’t be a psychopath about her sitting in my chair. I had a perfectly fine couch right there I could use.
But as I sat down, it felt wrong under me. The cushions weren’t right, and the fabric clung to my pants in a weird way.I shot to my feet, startling her. She was still clutching that basket for dear life.
“Can you sit on the couch, please? That’s my chair.”
She blinked and looked down at it like she’d never seen one before. But slowly, she got to her feet and moved to the sofa. My chest loosened as I sat in my rightful spot.
I turned toward her, taking a deep breath. She tightened her grip on the basket. It was almost comical how much bigger it was than her.
I should’ve offered to take it, but I couldn’t do anything but stare at her.
Why was she in my house?
“So,” she breathed, laughing nervously. “I, well, I have baked goods for you.”
“You said that.”
“Right.” Another laugh, and I pushed my brows together.
“Willow, what’s wrong?” I asked softly. “Did someone hurt you? Are you alright?” I scanned her again, but I didn’t see any injuries. That didn’t mean anything, though. Someone could’ve done something to her that wouldn’t be visible.
My mind conjured up a million horrific scenarios, and I clenched my hands into tight fists. I didn’t want to think about any of them, but once they were there, they wouldn’t leave. They played on a loop in my mind, showing me things I desperately hoped weren’t true.
“I wanted to make you a proposition.” Her words caught me completely off guard.
“What?”
“A proposition—actually, it’s more of a favor.” She laughed again, but I didn’t understand what was so funny.
“A favor?” I repeated, and she nodded.
“Yeah. You see, my family is coming to town for my birthday in a few weeks?—”
“How old will you be?” I didn’t know why I asked it. It just came out.
The question seemed to throw her for a loop, because she just blinked. “Uh, twenty-seven. Anyway…”
Twenty-seven? That was only six years younger than me, a year younger than Adam.
Honestly, she was older than I’d expected.
“They’re coming to town, and, uh, well, you see…”
She was babbling. As awkward as she could be, I’d never seen her like this before. Even the other night, it wasn’t like this. Granted, I didn’t know her all that well. Maybe she was always bumbling over her words, struggling to speak. Most of our interactions were us bickering, and something about that made words come a lot easier and freer.
“They’ll be here for just a few days. I think.” She pushed to her feet, putting the basket on the floor. Another nervous laugh escaped her. Swiping her hands down the front of her dress, she began pacing. “I didn’t think I’d be so nervous about this.”
“Nervous about what?” I was starting to get annoyed. I hated when people talked in circles—just give me the information I needed and move on. But she didn’t do that. Instead, she continued pacing and muttering to herself. “ Willow .”
She paused, her head whipping my way. It was like she’d forgotten I was here. In my house. That she was invading.
“Right. Sorry.”
I shifted in the chair, watching as she clasped her hands in front of herself. “Do you want a muffin? Or a cookie?” She gestured toward the basket, and I shook my head.
“I’d like to know why you’re in my house.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth. What the hell was going on? I’d never seen anyone so damn nervous before. It was ridiculous.
“So, my family?—”
“Is coming to visit for your birthday. You said that.”
Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “They’ll be here?—”
“For a few days.”
“And I kind of…I kind of lied to them about something.” The words were said so quickly, they blended into one. I lifted my brow, waiting for her to continue. “I need to give you a backstory.”
“You really don’t.”
But she ignored me as she began pacing again. “My dad remarried when I was in high school. The woman already had a kid from a previous marriage, but I’m my dad’s only biological child. So, it’s kind of a blended family thing, you know? Anyway, overnight, I had a stepsister. Which sounds a lot cooler than it actually is.
“All my life, I wanted a sibling. Just someone to play with, someone to be my built-in friend, you know? But that’s not what happened. Vanessa is…” She ran her fingers through her hair, jostling it. “The way my dad talks about her, you’d think she was the second coming of Mother Teresa. She’s perfect. I wouldn’t be surprised if she told him she saved orphans from a burning orphanage on Mars, and he believed it. And he would believe it, because she’s…perfect.”
“What does this have to do with your family visiting?” I grumbled. I knew what it was like feeling second best to a sibling, but her familial issues weren’t my problem.
Sure, it was cute when she talked to herself or sang along to her music, and she might be a pretty girl, but that was it. She was my annoying neighbor who nagged me about any and everything under the sun. We weren’t friends.
I don’t have any friends here.
Her words from the other night slammed into me, but I shook them away.
She wasn’t my problem. None of this was my problem. I had enough of my own without throwing hers into the mix.
“So, she’s perfect, and I’m always second fiddle. She graduates college, gets married, buys a house. I drop out of school, break up with my fiancé, and run off to Maine.” She let out a humorless, slightly manic-sounding laugh.
“Willow. It’s late?—”
“I lied to them and said I have a boyfriend when I really don’t,” she blurted.
It was like a bomb went off. I stared at her. “Why would you do that?”
“He just kept talking about how great she was, and how mediocre my life was. And I—I don’t know.” She shook her head, her lips pressing tightly together. “It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. But I lied, and I was wondering if you could?—”
“Find someone else.” I didn’t need her to finish that sentence to know what she was going to ask. Suddenly, being overdressed, and the desserts made a lot of sense.
“But—”
“I have no interest in lying to your family,” I told her. “I don’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend. So find someone else to do it.”
“Well, you see?—”
“No, Willow.”
“I told them it was you.”
Another bomb, this one resembling an atom bomb.
“You told them what was me?” I needed her to clarify. “Tell me exactly what you said.”
“I told my dad you and I are dating.”
The words finally registered. They floated through my ears and ricocheted off every wall in my skull. They repeated over and over.
I’d heard her clearly, but there was no way she’d actually said that.
She stared at me with those massive eyes—it was like looking at a little puppy. But that shit would not work on me. Not about this.
“You what ?”
“I didn’t know what else to do?—”
“Find a real boyfriend?” My voice rose, and she flinched, stepping away. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, calming myself. My mother would box my ears if she heard me shout at a woman, but fuck . “Why would you use me for your lie?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t—” It looked like she was panicking. Her breathing was too fast, her face pale, eyes wide. “I don’t know.”
I got to my feet and stalked across the room, stopping in front of her. She looked up at me, our eyes meeting and holding. With all the strength I had left, I reached out and braced my hands on her shoulders.
She needed to calm down if we were going to discuss this.
“You’re okay. Just breathe,” I said softly.
“I’m sorry.” Her teeth chattered, and I reached down, grabbing the blanket slung on the back of the couch. Wrapping it around her shoulders, I ran my hands up and down her arms. “I’m sorry.”
“I won’t lie to your family,” I murmured.
“But—”
“No.”
Her gaze fell, her shoulders with it. It was like a punch in the gut, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree to this. It was insane. And if it got out, I knew this gossip would run wild.
This string of burglaries already looked bad, and if everyone found out their sheriff was a liar, it would be even worse.
But then she looked up at me with those sad, lost eyes, and I almost caved. Almost .
“Maybe you should just tell them the truth,” I suggested, but she shook her head.
“They’ll think I’m even more pathetic than I already am.” She huffed out another humorless, sad laugh. “Maybe they’re right. I mean, who lies about this?” She shucked the blanket off, dropping it in a heap on the couch. “Sorry to bother you.”
Before I could say another word, she was gone, disappearing from my house like a ghost. The door quietly clicked shut, and I was left staring at where she’d been just a few moments ago.
It was a mistake, I knew that. Something like this would definitely blow up in our faces, but I hated to see how sad she looked. How lost and alone.
I knew how that felt. I knew it better than I wanted to admit.
But I couldn’t do this. One of us would wind up hurt; that always happened. It was a bad idea, through and through.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from inching toward the door. When I got to it, my hand wrapped around the doorknob.
It’s a mistake.
A massive mistake.
Just because she lied didn’t mean I had to fix it. It didn’t mean I had to do anything other than watch it all blow up around her.
That felt wrong, though. So, so damn wrong.
I’d wanted to ask her out just a few nights ago, but hadn’t managed to work up the courage, and now she was practically asking me out. But it wasn’t right. I wanted whatever we had, whatever we did, to be real. I didn’t want to play pretend for a few days. I didn’t want to put on a show for her family.
My fingers moved to the lock.
Lock.
Unlock.
Lock.
Unlock.
Seven times.
I turned back toward my living room, my gaze catching on the basket first, then moving to the blanket. With anyone else, I’d have to wash it right away. But with her…I wanted to keep it as it was. I knew her scent lingered on the fabric, and a part of me wanted to smell it?—
Mistake.
Big, big mistake.
So, no. I wouldn’t do it.
I couldn’t.
She had to figure this out herself.