36. Shiloh
Shiloh
I’ve been through some hard things in my life; getting myself to the clinic after Grey beat me was hard. I thought growing up without a mom was hard. But I never could have predicted living without my temporary husband would be this hard. I hate my apartment.
I didn’t go shopping for a couch, or any furniture. I have a mattress on the floor, and I’m living out of my duffel bag. I feel like I need to be able to leave at a moment’s notice because Kensington sent someone to intimidate me. I didn’t recognize him, but his message was clear.
Rat and I die.
Maybe it was Grey who sent him, or maybe it was Senior himself. But a little part of me says the only reason I’m still breathing is because my husband is the sheriff, and that would be far too obvious. I’m a thorn in their side, but I don’t want to give them any excuse, married or not, to cut me.
Aside from that, I don’t want to be here. I want to be with him, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep the secrets.
I miss him from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed. This space feels empty, and I do too.
But every time I think about giving in, I force myself to remember why I did all of this in the first place.
To protect him.
The only problem is, I don’t know if it worked, and it’s not like I’m going to go onto the Kensington property to let them know I’m not a rat and to leave Ledger alone. Bad idea.
But then again, maybe being alone is a bad idea too.
Ledger wasn’t wrong for being concerned about what Grey could do.
I’m basically a sitting duck. It’s not like there’s high-level security in this building.
I sleep with the gun right next to me. It’s the best I could think of, but it will all be worth it if I can hold out long enough for Ledger to get Grey and put him where he belongs.
“Hello? Earth to Shiloh?” Mollie-Mae calls.
“What?” I ask her, finally looking away from the window.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
I shrug and keep wiping off the same cup I’ve been polishing.
“How are you settling into your new place? Did you pick out some furniture yet?” she asks.
I smile at my friend, but it physically hurts to do it. “No, I uh … wanted to save a bit more money to do it.”
“Fair enough. Everything is so expensive these days.”
I nod absently.
“Oh, hey, sheriff, how are you?” Bear says behind the window.
My stomach drops to my feet, and it feels like rocks are filling my throat. I’m drowning on dry land. I slowly turn around and meet his steady brown eyes. They say everything and nothing, and it takes monumental effort not to throw myself into his arms.
“Hey there, Bear, Mollie-Mae, Shiloh.”
Mollie waves and asks him what he’d like to order.
He gets lunch to go, but keeps glancing at me even though she’s the one taking his order.
When she finishes, he saunters down the long countertop and slips onto a barstool right in front of me, his hands on the top, wedding ring clinking on the surface. “Hey Shy.”
“Hi,” I squeak. I feel a little lightheaded, and I want to cry. It hasn’t been two days since I saw him, and I’m convinced this is torture.
“Are you busy tonight?” he asks.
I shrug. I’m not, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a bit. I’ll make dinner.” His gaze is hopeful, and I know I’m going because I can’t tell him no.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper.
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because friends don’t make each other romantic dinners,” I mumble, reaching for a salt shaker that doesn’t need to be refilled, but I need to do something with my hands.
“Who said it was a romantic dinner?” he asks me.
I roll my eyes in an attempt to hide my smile and fail pretty quickly.
He chuckles and stands when Mollie calls for him.
“I’ll see you at six then?” he asks.
Dammit. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you then.”
The corner of his mouth tips up, and he raps his knuckles on the counter.
He takes his bag from Mollie-Mae and saunters out the door.
“What was that all about?” Mollie asks me.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Lies. Lies. Lies. Nothing but lies.
I shouldn’t be driving to the home I’ve missed every single day since I left it, but I am. Maybe I should have walked. Leaving my car out front is probably a terrible idea.
My phone rings and I pick up, hitting the speaker button. “Hey, I’m five minutes away.”
“Okay, you shouldn’t be on the phone while driving, ma’am. But I wanted to tell you to pull into the garage,” Ledger says.
“Will do. See you in a bit.”
He hangs up, and I try to will the irregular heart in my chest to calm down and beat the way it’s supposed to.
I’m making this harder on myself, but I couldn’t say no. It wasn’t possible. I changed my outfit ten times and ended up with the jeans I know Ledger likes. I’m the worst.
The garage is already open by the time I pull up to the house.
The smell of home wafts into my nose as I come through the door and take my shoes off, setting them next to Ledger’s.
He has the dining table covered with a tablecloth, and there are candles lit everywhere. He must have gotten everything else fixed up from the vandalism because there’s a fresh paint smell, a new TV, and new flooring.
“Hey,” he rasps.
I look up from the floor. “Hi.”
He blinks, watching me carefully as I take in the romantic dinner setting. I should have known he was going to do this, but then again, even if I had. I still would’ve come, even though I shouldn’t have.
Dozer runs up to me and seeing his cute little face makes my eyes water. “Hi baby! I missed you so much,” I tell him, nuzzling my face into his. He wiggles his body that’s already gotten bigger in my arms and I squeeze him one more time before setting him down.
“Looks like you got everything fixed up,” I say, gesturing to the floor.
He looks around. “I’ve had some extra time on my hands.”
I huff. “I doubt that.”
He shrugs. “I hope you’re hungry.”
He sets the last plate on the table. It looks like pot roast with mashed potatoes.
“It smells amazing, but this is pretty fancy for a friend coming over for dinner.”
“Is it?” he asks and pulls back a chair for me.
Before I can sit down, he pulls me into a hug and kisses my temple.
I melt.
“How has Dozer been? How’s training going? I’m sorry I basically left him,” I mutter, gently pulling myself from his arms to sit down.
He helps me scoot in, and I don’t miss his lingering, large, warm hand on my shoulder.
“It’s fine. He’s great. He’s a smart dog. I take him to the station with me every day. Daisy helps me take care of him if I need to go out on a call or something.”
My breath falters. I should have seen this coming. I’m sure women throw themselves at him. I glance at his hand. His wedding ring is still on.
“I’m glad he’s not alone all day.”
He nods, but his expression is scrunched together. “Daisy, my assistant, has taken quite a liking to him. So it works out.”
Ohhh. Thank God.
Like you have any room to speak, you left him. You wanted to be friends, remember?
“So, can I get you anything to drink?”
“Water is fine.”
He sits to my right and holds the plate for me to take what I want. I take a bite, and the mashed potatoes melt in my mouth. No, Shiloh, don’t let the food distract you.
“So I—”
“This is—”
We both speak at the same time.
“Go ahead,” Ledger says.
“No, no, you first,” I mumble.
He nods and disappears down the hall.
I force myself to eat slowly because I could shovel this into my mouth and tell him I need to go. It would be the right thing to do. But I can’t… or maybe because I don’t want to.
Ledger approaches the table with a massive box in his hands, sets it on the counter, then leaves again. He comes back with a small barrel in his arms, and I force myself not to burst into tears.
“I got you something,” he says.
I stare at the box I assume is a still because of the white oak barrel. I can smell the perfect oaky char from here.
“Did I get the wrong one?” he asks.
I’m still sitting in my chair staring because he remembered my interest in something I let go of because it was too out of bounds for me. Some dreams aren’t meant to come true, and they stay that way — dreams.
He should be angry, not cooking me dinner and buying me gifts.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I rasp.
His jaw ticks. “I didn’t get you the ingredients. Honestly, I tried, but then you were saying something about the perfect amount or something like that, and I didn’t want to buy you the wrong thing.”
Speechless, I open the box. It’s a brand new copper still. Bigger than I ever had. I got the smallest one, the only one I could afford. This is ten times the size of the one I used to have. I might be able to get a full bottle out of this.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Ledger shrugs and goes back to the table. “You don’t have to say anything.”
I follow him back to the table and force myself to eat the beautiful meal he made for us.
When we finish dinner, I help him clean up the kitchen, and it’s just like old times. He takes Dozer outside, while I walk around the freshly painted living room and smile at the half-done puzzle on his coffee table. I take a piece and spot its place, and slide it in.
“I’ve been working on that one for a while,” he says.
“Looks like a hard one. The pieces are tiny.”
He shrugs. “Helps my mind stop … running.”
“So, do you want a drink, maybe watch a movie?” he asks.
The weight of guilt builds on my chest, and I don’t know how much longer I can carry it.
“Are you okay?” he asks, coming closer.
Too close for comfort.
“Yeah, I’m fine. But, um, I have an early shift. I should probably get going.” Because I’m a house of cards, and if I stay here any longer, I will come crashing down.
“No problem, I’ll follow you,” he says, and checks his watch before slipping his hands into his pockets.
“You don’t have to do that. Friends don’t need to follow each other home.”
“Well, friends who care about their friend’s safety when there’s someone who could potentially hurt them do, especially when their friend won’t listen and let their friend take care of them.”
I bristle even though I have no right to be angry. But I’m trying so hard to do the right thing, and he’s not making this any easier.
“Plus, I can carry the still upstairs for you.”
I nibble my nail. “I don’t think I’m allowed to distill liquor in an apartment.”
“Keep it here then,” he says cooly, but it’s not nonchalant. The look on his face makes me think this was the goal the whole time.
I rub my nose to hide my smile. He’s sneakier than I gave him credit for. “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, and I know that made him happy. Unfortunately, for the time being, the still and that barrel are going to collect dust. I can’t be here.
“Thank you for the still. It means more than you know,” I rasp.
“No problem.”
We stand a foot apart, it’s a battle of wills. Who will break first?
Me.
I groan, leading the way to the laundry room.
“You should know by now if I say I’m going to do something. I do it.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and the heat of his chest radiates at my back. It wouldn’t take much to spin around and kiss him. Just a little taste. I’ve been thinking about our accidental kiss since he brought dinner to my apartment a few days ago.
“Yeah, I should know that,” I mutter getting my shoes on.
Ledger helps me into my jacket and helps me into the car.
As I drive away from the house, I keep glancing in my rearview mirror, and he’s there, watching me leave. He’s always there.
There’s a saying about how when you look for signs, they can be found in anything. I don’t know if it’s true, but I keep looking for hints that I’m doing the right thing, and all I see are the reasons it’s not.