16. Ledger
Ledger
It’s been two weeks since I kissed her sassy mouth and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
And what makes it worse is that she didn’t want to talk about it.
I couldn’t figure out if it was embarrassment, or she simply isn’t into me and I need to leave it alone.
Which is going to be hard for me to do. Once I set my sights on something I want, I’ll go after it, but this is the one thing I can’t have.
But what I can’t reconcile is she always seems to be around …
I don’t know if it’s because I’m hyper aware of her or she wants to be around me, which is in total contradiction to telling me to buzz off two weeks ago.
A part of me wonders if she’s scared, if she needs some encouragement from me, and I’m happy to give it, but I don’t know what she wants, and my patience is wearing thin.
It’s not because she doesn’t know how to load the dishwasher, plays her music too loud, or does her laundry in an infuriatingly unorganized way.
It’s because every time I look at her, I see something I admire.
Every time we speak, I like the way she talks to me.
Hell, I like the way she simply blinks at me.
I want to grab her hips and pull her into me, feel her soft to my hard.
I want to taste those lips, and every other inch of skin I can get to.
It’s bad. I know we’re married, but I didn’t go into this with any intention other than to protect her and cover both of our asses. I never considered that feelings might develop. Shiloh has become a constant in my mind, and is slowly making herself permanent.
I get back from the station early and luckily she’s not here. Fletcher called and asked for some help this afternoon, so I came home to change. Before I leave, I write Shiloh a note to let her know where I am. I’m aware I could text her, but this feels better.
Leaving the note on the counter, I head out and roll the windows down.
I park by the barn and hop out, setting my hat on my head. No one seems to be around, and I don’t know where Fletch needs me.
Pulling my phone out to call him, Cooper grabs my attention.
“Howdy, Sheriff,” my cousin says.
“Hey Coop, where’s Fletch? He said he needed help with something.”
“I’m headed out there myself, just had to check on my girls,” he says.
I nod and follow him into the barn. We get the horses saddled and I follow Cooper’s lead.
“So, are we going to talk about your wife?” Coop asks me.
I groan silently and focus on the ground in front of me.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.
“That’s the thing about you, Coop, you’ve never been great at reading a room.”
He huffs. “Tell that to my wife.”
“She doesn’t count,” I mumble and glance at him. He’s grinning from ear to ear, and I can’t help but smile back.
My cousin struck gold finding a good woman like Mae. He’s had a rough few years. Being a single dad isn’t easy. We’ve all been there to help him, but ultimately the brunt was on him. After he and Mae got together, he’s a better man because of it.
It makes me wonder if there’s a woman out there who could be my other half.
My mind flashes to Shiloh, and I shake my head. It can’t be her.
“We all saw it, Ledge,” Cooper says, coming up to my side.
“You saw me flirting with a woman, very observant Cooper, gold star for you.”
“Oh look, you’re still a grumpy ass. No wonder she basically told you to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” he says.
I huff and ignore that because she in fact did do that, only it wasn’t at the diner.
“Are you and Shiloh Sullivan really married? Mae put two and two together when she saw Shiloh’s wedding ring and then the way you two were acting,” he says.
I shift in my seat. I knew better, but I couldn’t help myself. “What if we were?” I ask him because I realized something: either we aren’t compatible, or the circumstances of our arrangement are keeping us from becoming more together.
“I think we’d all be happy for ya’ man. I guess the bigger question is why are you being so secretive about it?” I give him a deadpan look, and he nods. “Sheriff. Got it.”
“It’s not that.”
“Okay, what is it?” he asks.
“I can’t tell you, and it’s not because I don’t want to, but it’s safer that way,” I say. Under no circumstances can I implicate my family in anything about that night.
Cooper hums. “I see, so, speaking hypothetically of course, if you, the Sheriff of Paxton County, were to marry someone with a criminal history that may or may not be involved in something you’re working on it wouldn’t look appropriate.”
“That may or may not be true,” I grumble.
“Again, speaking hypothetically, is it for a valid reason?” he asks.
“Hypothetically, it’s not because I’m trying to protect a reputation, or because I care what anyone in this town thinks of me.”
“But does she know that?” he asks.
I dip my head once.
“Okay wait, all these hypotheticals are confusing me. Are ya’ll married or not?” he asks.
“I don’t know how to answer that question,” I mumble. Legally? Yes. Emotionally, mentally, physically? Not so much.
Cooper leads the way up a hill and we find Fletcher with the rest of the hands circling a group.
“Maybe that’s the problem man, you don’t know what you want so why should she tell you what she wants?”
My head snaps to him, my neck tweaking with the movement. I thought I was clear with her, but maybe I wasn’t. In my mind, it was clear and to the point. But to Shiloh, it was mixed signals and risky.
“Oh hey, you’re home,” Shiloh says as I walk into the kitchen.
It’s a mess, and she is too. I take in whatever it is that she’s making and lift my gaze to her.
She’s wearing my apron, I keep tucked away and hardly use.
She has those wild blonde curls piled up on top of her head, and there’s a little flour on her cheek.
I have to fist my hand to keep myself from dusting her off.
“What’s all this?”
She shrugs shyly. “I wanted to try to make chocolate chip cookies.”
I nod, wondering why that’s such a big deal for her. Doesn’t everyone know how to make chocolate chip cookies?
“I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve never made them before. My dad wasn’t exactly the Betty Crocker type, and I’d normally buy the kind that comes in a roll from the store.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It’s good to learn new things.”
A blush rises over her cheeks, and I preen. I like that she responds to me, it gives me some level of hope. I don’t know why I’m hoping, and regardless of what happens, we should talk about it, but she doesn’t want to.
Cooper’s words keep running through my mind, and I want to make things right because this marriage thing still has time on the clock.
“Yeah, I guess it is isn’t it?” she says, as if she’s just now realizing it. She puts her hands on her hips and bounces on her toes. “You can be my guinea pig,” she says.
I huff. “I think I can manage that, hopefully they don’t kill me.” I grin, and she gasps throwing a dish towel at me.
“That’s not fair! I’ve never done it before!”
I shrug and set my thermos on the counter. “Can never be too safe.”
“Maybe I should poison them,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“That won’t be a hard case to solve.”
She purses her lips. “I’m better at committing crimes then you’re giving me credit for.”
I try not to smile, but my mouth has a mind of its own.
Shiloh’s eyes widen as she realizes what she said.
“Oh, I’m well aware of the crimes you’ve committed, criminal.”
“Okay, I walked right into that one,” she says and gestures.
I snort and angle for my room, and then she says, “So, uh, are you going to be around tonight? You don’t have to go back to the ranch or anything?”
Turning to face her she shifts on her feet and the hopeful look on her face, gives me far too many ideas. Ledger pull it together.
“Yeah, I’m in for the night.”
She nods rapidly. “Good, cool, awesome,” she says.
“Uh, huh,” I mumble.
“I’m going to work on these cookies. I’ve read the recipe ten times, but I’m still afraid I’ll mess them up.”
“You won’t learn anything if you don’t try it,” I tell her.
She nods. “Yeah.”
Leaving her to her attempt at baking I hit the showers.
Tipping my head back, I let the water fall over my face, washing the shampoo from my hair.
Then I hear a yelp, and a second later, the fire detector starts going off. Then a scream.
Dear God please don’t let her burn down my house.
I grab a towel quickly wrapping it around my waist and run out to the kitchen to find a something on fire on a tray with the stove wide open. Calmly walking over to the oven I shut it, to contain the fire, flip off the oven and go to the sliding door to air out the smoky kitchen.
Shiloh stands there with mouth wide open, oven mitts on her hands and somehow more flour all over her face. Her hazel eyes glitter and I can sense the tears coming. When June made that face I learned to run the other way.
I glance at the oven and they’re still smoking, but I have to let it die down before I can pull them out.
If I grabbed them and threw them outside, it’s so dry they could start a fire.
So the best option is to let them burn out on their own.
I guess I’ll need a new cookie sheet, and a long day scrubbing my oven. Great.
Keeping my towel together with one hand, I wait for an explanation, but I think she’s in shock.
“So do you want to tell me what happened here?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she squeaks. “I followed directions, how did they catch on fire? How is that possible?” she asks nearly in hysterics.
The air kicks on and I shiver because I’m still dripping and there’s probably still soap in my hair.
“Did you leave them in too long or forget an ingredient?” I ask her.
She frowns and looks at the stove’s digital display. “No that’s not possible I set it for ten minutes.”
I check the display, and it’s still counting down. “No, Shy, you set it for ten hours. They’ve been in here for a while.”