8. Ledger
Ledger
Her bedroom door is still shut, so I’m assuming she’s still asleep.
I hesitate at the counter. Should I leave her a key? Is she going to walk to work? Do I need to take her?
Part of me is already wondering if it was smart giving her a place to stay, but I also know it was the right thing to do. I’m hoping and praying she doesn’t make me regret it.
How do I explain this to the officers under me? I’m not holding out hope that Grey will keep his mouth shut about last night either. If he’s smart, he will take my threat seriously. The downside is I showed my hand, but then again, I don’t think he’s smart enough to recognize that.
Most of the town knows what Grey did to Shiloh by now.
But no one knows that I took her in — yet, it won’t take long.
Eventually, even if she’s here for two days, they’re going to see her car in front of my house.
How do I explain that? This town is small.
Someone is going to see us together — ask questions I don’t have answers to.
Friends.
That’s it, we’re friends. I’m helping a friend even though we’ve never been buddy-buddy.
Anything else is people’s own assumptions.
Rumor can be significantly worse than the truth in Paxton.
But I don’t care to correct anyone because I have bigger fish to fry.
Though I’m not naive enough to think we don’t need a plausible story, and something that doesn’t put my job in jeopardy, let alone give Grey a reason for payback. So maybe friends won’t be good enough.
Dammit. Think Ledger, think.
Instead of doing my actual job, I spent half the day figuring out how to make sure this doesn’t blow back on us. And because I don’t trust Grey as far as I can throw him. I found a law that might do the trick. But Shiloh has to agree to it.
It’s insane. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I can’t even fathom the story I’ll have to come up with for my family because the moment someone sees a ring on her finger and mine, and her living with me, word will get around quick.
But I made the choice, and she made a mistake. There are consequences to our actions.
And what better way to make it all worse than asking her to marry me?
To be honest, I don’t believe she’ll go for it. We don’t know each other. But it could keep us both safe, in a manner of speaking, so if the details of that night do come out, at least they could only get half the truth.
I left the station early, drove three towns over where people wouldn’t recognize me, bought her a simple ring and a gold band for myself, then hurried home expecting to find her here, but she’s not.
Did she leave?
I peek inside her room and find her bag on the floor. A blanket is draped across the bed. Her stuff is still here, so I’m assuming she didn’t take off.
Maybe she’s at work.
At least that gives me time to figure out how to…
ask her. Should it be all business? I don’t know how long this will last. Should I offer an end date?
But if things don’t go well with investigating the Kensingtons, it could last a lot longer.
My integrity cannot be questioned. It could throw the entire case off.
My reckless choices cannot cost Paxton its safety.
Not to mention my family will call my bluff by looking at me.
I can’t involve them by telling them the truth, yet I hate keeping secrets, especially of this magnitude, from them.
But it’s one I’m going to have to keep so they’re safe.
Which also means I have to convince Shiloh, not only to marry me, but once my family inevitably finds out, we will have to be believable.
We have our work cut out for us. Maybe I should just turn myself in.
After my shower, I put on a nice pair of jeans and a starched shirt I usually reserve for church and Sunday dinners. It’s the least I can do because this has to happen tonight.
I pocket the ring and start dinner.
When I’m almost done, the door slams and Shiloh comes tumbling into the kitchen.
She drops her water bottle and purse on the counter and kicks her shoes off, tossing them into the laundry room.
I stand there wondering why she’s so … this and stir the ground beef.
She pushes her wild blonde hair back and jerks back a little. “Oh, hi,” she says.
She really didn’t see me.
“Everything okay?” I ask her.
“Uh, my ribs hurt and I can’t feel my feet. Why?” she asks.
“No reason,” I mutter, and press my lips together. I have to proceed gently with this.
She nods and disappears down the hall.
Pulling two bowls out, I scoop the sweet potatoes, ground beef, and beans, then top them off with cheese and a cilantro avocado sauce.
Shiloh comes back into the kitchen, pulling her shirt over her head, flashing me in the process, as she walks and I look away, ignoring the warmth in my chest. I don’t think she intends to be this chaotic, but I’m starting to realize that’s who she is.
“So I wanted to—” she says, and comes up short. “What’s this?” she asks.
“I made dinner; figured you’d want some too.”
“You made me dinner?” she says in a high-pitched voice that mildly scares me.
I swear she’s about to burst into tears.
“It’s not that big a deal,” I mumble and sit at the table.
She stares at the bowl, and I wonder if maybe she’s allergic to something. The thought didn’t really cross my mind. Most people aren’t allergic to these basic ingredients, but hey what do I know.
Shiloh takes the bowl and the fork I sat next to it and hesitates.
Why is she acting like this? Is it me? Am I the weird one?
“You can sit down, unless you have somewhere else to be,” I tell her, gesturing to the chair across from me.
“Okay, thank you,” she says, and hustles around the table.
The awkward tension between us is starting to grate on me. I can tell she has something to say, and I’m ready to rip off the Band-Aid.
Gentle, Ledger. You must be gentle.
I clear my throat. “What were you going to say?”
“Oh, uh, I was going to tell you I have a shift at the Wooden Cowboy tonight, and I was wondering if you would be okay with me staying one more night. I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow,” she says, dropping her eyes to her food.
I watch her eat it, and I can tell she’s surprised she likes it. It’s a weird combination, but it’s high in protein and low carb, plus it’s easy to make.
“This is tasty.”
“Thanks, and you can stay as long as you need to,” I tell her.
Her fork clatters on the table, and she looks up. “I don’t — no, I couldn’t do that,” she says.
I take a bite, chewing slowly. This is a gentle way to open her up to the idea of getting married. “Yes, you can. I meant to give you a key today.”
Her eyes widen and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Did you find somewhere else to stay?” I ask her. I’m sure she has friends. Maybe she talked to one of them about it today. If that’s the case, then there’s no way we could see the happily married thing, which in turn still puts us at risk.
“No, I … thank you. I can pay you, just tell me how much.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “Shiloh, if you could pay, then you wouldn’t have been trying to sleep in your car last night. So why would I think you could pay me now, even if I wanted to charge you? I don’t, by the way.”
“Look, Ledger, I’m no freeloader. I don’t take anything if I didn’t earn it.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” I sigh.
She snorts. “Nice. But I mean it, what would you like from me?” she asks, and her cheeks turn pink, and my mind goes to a lot of things, none of them I’ll suggest, except the one most important.
“I don’t want anything from you, not like that,” I tell her. There’s a small part of me that wants to press her for information about Grey. She could know something about the family drug operation and not even know it. But now doesn’t feel like the time.
“Okay, thank you, but I can keep the house clean or do your grocery shopping. I don’t know, but if you think of something, let me know.”
“Okay. There is one thing, no, two things. First, no guests.”
She huffs. “I have no guests to invite. What’s the second?”
I hum and take a bite. The silence between us stretches as I work up the nerve.
“So I’ve been thinking. Last night could …
create issues. People might see things here and start assuming, so I think we need some kind of explanation.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m going to walk around town announcing anything, but this is Paxton, and I am the sheriff. ”
Shiloh nods and chews her food. “We need to have our stories straight.”
“Yeah, I don’t mean to sound like a jerk, but-”
Shiloh shakes her head. “No, no, I totally get it, and I agree.”
“Okay, great,” I say, stumbling over my words. Then again, it’s not like I’ve asked a woman to marry me, let alone one I’m not in love with.
“Sooo, what’s the second thing?” she asks again.
“As you said, we need a story. And with the events of last night, we need to be buttoned up tight.” What I don’t say is I don’t trust Grey, and I’d rather her be here where I can intervene, though I doubt he would push it this far.
It doesn’t help that I didn’t report what happened, which threatens my job. So this is a win-win for everyone.
Shiloh tilts her head, giving me a funny look. “Okay, I won’t say anything. You saved my ass.”
“So then you’ll understand this.” I stand from my seat and drop to my knee.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, tilting so far out of her chair she might fall off.
“Shiloh, marry me to save both our asses.”
She huffs. “This is a joke, right?” she asks and pushes her chair back.
“You have a terrible sense of humor.”
I shrug. “That’s accurate. But I’m dead serious. There’s this thing called spousal privilege, and if Grey talks, then at minimum they’ll only get half the truth, and it’s my word against his.”
“You’re really asking me to marry you?” she says, hand on her chest.
I nod. “This protects both of us.”
“But I don’t love you. I just got out of a relationship. No one will buy this.”
“No one has to buy it except the judge, who’s going to marry us tonight.”
“Tonight!” she shrieks.
“This has to be done as quickly as possible. It’s the only way it’ll work.”
“I have to work! I can’t do this!” she yells.
I get off my knee, and reach for her hand. “I know this is crazy. I understand that, and I can’t believe I’m doing this either. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. As I said, it will help us both. It won’t blow up my career, and it will protect you from him.”
Her shocked expression drops, and she looks away, rubbing her arms. She knows I’m right. Being the Sheriff’s wife comes with a sort of protection, and Grey would be an even bigger idiot to come after her then.
“He won’t believe it,” she mutters.
“If we’re legally married, it doesn't matter if he believes it or not.”
“This helps you too?” she asks.
“It does.”
She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. “How long?”
“Worst case, I think a year, best case, maybe six months.”
She nods. “Okay, I can do six months, and you don’t expect…”
I shake my head before she can finish her sentence. “I expect absolutely nothing from you. I don’t want your money, or anything else. We’re roommates at home, but to anyone outside of this house, we will be husband and wife. Which brings me to my last item.”
She drops her head back. “There’s more?”
“I want to keep this from my family as long as I can. But you know who my family is. They will find out. So when they do, you and I have to sell it.”
She huffs. “I don’t know your family well, but I’m sure they won’t believe it for a second.”
“They’ll have to Shiloh. I can’t have them pulled into this. I — we have to protect them. Please.”
“That’s fair. So if my dad somehow calls you because he hears through the grapevine, then the same goes for you.”
I dip my chin. “Understood.”
“You’re really serious? There’s no other way?” she asks.
“Grey has a lot on the line, and I don’t think he’s dumb enough to open his mouth, but he can’t be trusted.”
She huffs. “No, he can’t.”
“So, I’m preparing for the likelihood that he will, in fact, be an idiot. This is the backup plan to protect both of us.”
“And then we get a divorce in six months to a year?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She nods to herself and holds out her hand. “Let me call into work and tell them I’ll be late.”
I slide the ring over her finger and she disappears down the hall.
I get dinner cleaned up and wait by the door.
When she walks out of her room, my heart flips before I can stop it. She’s wearing a white sundress with lace around the edges, and her hair down, with a gold necklace around her neck.
“You look nice.”
“Is this bridal enough for you?” she asks.
“It’ll do,” I rasp.
“Awesome, let’s go,” she says, strutting out the door into the garage.