2. Chapter 2 #2
That’s harder to answer than it should be.
Because you need somewhere to live. Because I have room.
Because the idea of you driving forty-five minutes over mountain roads after a late shift bothers me, even though I don’t have a right to be bothered.
Because I’ve thought about you every day since the Roundup.
None of those are things I’m saying out loud.
So I give her the practical answer. “You need something temporary. I have space.”
“And?”
“And Caldwell already thinks we’re seeing each other.”
Her eyes narrow. “Now we’re getting to it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s the only reason.”
The words come out before I can stop them. Kayla goes still. So do I.
Something changes between us. Small. Enough that I notice.
She studies me. “What does that mean?”
“It means you need a place and I have one.”
Coward. But true.
She keeps looking at me for another second. Then she shakes her head. “This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“No. Definitely.”
“Fair.”
“I don’t know anything about you.”
“You know I own a ranch.”
“That’s not character information.”
“I moved the trailer.”
“Eventually.”
“When asked.”
“You complained first.”
“I clarified.”
“You complained.”
I almost smile. “I also have references.”
That gets a real laugh. “You have references?”
“People know me.”
“You’re offering landlord references for the house you live in?”
“I’m saying you don’t have to take my word that I’m not dangerous.”
Her expression shifts. The humor fades. I didn’t mean to make the point serious, but it is serious. She should be cautious. I want her to be.
“I wouldn’t expect you to move in without seeing the place,” I say. “Or talking to Caroline. Anybody you trust.”
She looks down at her coffee.
I keep going. “Separate bedroom. Separate bathroom. You come and go when you want. I don’t touch your things. I don’t care where you go or what you do.”
Her gaze comes back to mine. “And the fake girlfriend part?”
“If you stayed there, Caldwell seeing us together would be easy.”
“That sounds suspiciously convenient for you.”
“It is convenient.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I try to be.”
She gives me a look. I deserve it. “Except with Caldwell.”
“Apparently.”
“Good clarification.”
I put my hands in my jacket pockets. “You wouldn’t have to pay rent.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “No.”
“It’s temporary.”
“I am not living in your house for free.”
“You’d be helping me.”
“With the lie.”
“With Caldwell.”
“The lie about Caldwell.”
“Yes.”
She studies me. I can see her mind working. Kayla likes systems. Plans. Rules. I know that much already. She probably has a spreadsheet for this problem. Maybe two.
“You’d stay until you found another place,” I say. “If that’s two weeks, fine. If it’s a month, fine. Caldwell makes his decision, the fake relationship ends, you move whenever you’re ready.”
“You’ve thought this through quickly.”
“I haven’t thought it through at all.”
That makes her smile again. I’m starting to learn I’ll say stupid things if they keep making her do that.
“I’m not saying yes,” she says.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You very much did.”
“I offered.”
“That is asking with manners.”
“Okay.”
She looks toward the window. Then back at me. “I’ll look at the house.”
Something in my chest loosens. I keep it off my face.
“At the house,” she repeats. “I am agreeing to look at it. That is all.”
“Understood.”
“I could walk in and hate it.”
“You could.”
“You could have taxidermy everywhere.”
“I don’t.”
“A terrifying doll collection.”
“No.”
“One chair facing an empty wall.”
I think about the single chair at my kitchen table. Close enough.
“You can inspect it yourself.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow after your shift.”
She considers. “Five?”
“I’ll be there.”
She picks up her coffee. I step aside so she can get to the door.
She walks past me, then stops. “Ty?”
“Yeah?”
“If there are dolls, I’m leaving.”
“There are no dolls.”
“Good.” She pushes through the door and heads toward the parking lot.
I watch her go. Again. This is becoming a problem.
I drive home thinking about every reason this is a bad idea. There are plenty.
I barely know Kayla. She barely knows me. She already has reason to believe I make questionable decisions where Walter Caldwell is concerned.
Inviting her to live in my house after two conversations is objectively strange. I know all of that. I also know she needs somewhere to live. And I have three empty bedrooms. That should be the end of the explanation.
It isn’t.
The house is quiet when I walk in. I put my keys on the counter. One coffee mug sits in the drying rack from this morning. One jacket hangs by the door. One pair of boots. The kitchen looks exactly the way it did when I left.
For the first time in years, the quiet gets on my nerves. Tomorrow Kayla is coming here. Just to look. She said that twice.
I walk down the hall and open the first guest room. The bed is made. The dresser is empty. I open the closet. There are two old coats in the back and a box of paperwork I forgot was in there. I take both coats out. Then the box. I carry them to the spare room across the hall.
Halfway there, I stop. I look down at what I’m holding. She hasn’t said yes. I stand in the hallway for a second. Then I keep going.
Just in case.