Chapter 33
LACEY
I advanced, my pointer finger leading the way, jabbing the air with sharp thrusts. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Bodie sidestepped my attack.
Was the man really so dense that he didn’t realize he’d just made the situation at least twice, if not three times, as bad? “Why didn’t you let me handle that? I told you to be quiet and play along.”
“That was before you made me out to be some nerdy poet. ‘Sunflowers are yellow’? Are you kidding me?”
“That’s better than telling her we got engaged at Cattleman’s.
And that you have photographic proof. Where are you going to come up with those pictures you promised her?
” I could feel a migraine coming on. The kind that would require complete darkness and silence, not an argument over our fake engagement.
“I’ll figure it out. That’s nothing compared to the two-carat yellow diamond engagement ring you said you got.
” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick out in all directions.
Reminded me of how he looked when I woke up next to him yesterday.
How could that have been only a day ago?
So much had changed since then. Almost gave me whiplash trying to wrap my head around it.
“Can we pick this up again tomorrow? I need to get home.”
“Sure, why not? You seem to be the one in charge here. No matter that I didn’t have a say before you outed me as your groom. Did you even think to ask me first?”
I tried to tune him out. My headache was coming on like a freight train and I needed to take one of my pills and lie down before I ended up missing the chance and having to spend the next two days in bed. “I’m sorry, okay?”
He paused in his rant and put his hands on the counter. “So what next, Mayor Cherish? What’s the big plan?”
I took one look at him and made a mad dash for the bathroom. My knees barely hit the floor when the little bit I’d had for dinner came back up. Damn migraine. Damn Bodie. Damn everything.
“Lacey, are you okay?” He paused in the doorway to the bathroom, genuine concern evident in his eyes.
“Headache,” I managed to mutter. “Pill’s in my purse.”
“I got it.” He disappeared down the hall, leaving me to curse myself for not heeding the early signs.
I knew from experience when I felt one of my migraines coming on I needed to drop everything, take a pill, and go to bed.
But with Samantha giving us the third degree it had been my chance to set the publicity plan in motion—something I needed to do if I had any hope of saving the town.
Bodie came back, a glass of water and one of my pills in hand. “Here you go.” His voice lacked the sharpness of earlier.
I nodded, taking the pill and swallowing. How was I going to get home? I couldn’t see straight enough to walk down the hall, much less drive myself ten miles in the dark.
Bodie must have read my mind. “You can take my bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“It’s okay. Just let me lie down for a few minutes.” I rested my head against the cabinet, too tired to even think about getting up.
“Come on, Sweets.” Bodie leaned down and scooped me up into his arms.
I groaned at the movement. It had been a long time since one of my headaches had come on so fast and fierce.
“I’ve got you.” He angled me through the bathroom door then took soft steps down the hall.
“Don’t be silly. Just put me on the couch and I’ll get myself home when I feel better.” I tried to push against his chest. My head seemed to weigh forty pounds, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and wish my headache away.
“Shh.” He stepped through the doorway to his bedroom and gently set me on the bed. “What can I do for you?” he whispered.
“Just leave me alone for a while.” I wanted to roll out of his arms but didn’t dare move.
He pulled back slowly then climbed on the bed beside me. “Come here.” With long, gentle strokes his fingers smoothed the hair back from my temple.
The tension in my head eased a bit. Bodie continued to stroke my hair, his chest pressed against my back.
Maybe it was the calming scent of what had to be freshly washed sheets.
Or it could have been the warmth I felt with his front pushed against my back.
Whatever it was, it eased my headache from debilitating to slightly less so.
I waited until my pill took effect then closed my eyes. Taking a short rest before I tried to head home would be the smart thing to do.
I woke to the thump-thump-thump of a heartbeat against my ear. It was impossible to see in the inky darkness. I remembered Bodie, arguing in front of the reporter from the Texas Times and then a monster headache coming on.
Propping myself up on an elbow, I squinted at the clock on the nightstand.
Four thirty in the morning? My dad had probably been worried sick about me.
I tried to get up but something pinned me in place.
One of Bodie’s arms clamped around my middle.
Just like the other night. For a moment I wanted to lie still, linger in his arms, and pretend we were just a guy and a gal, not the warring deputy sheriff and mayor, both trying to protect and save something we loved that happened to be in direct conflict with each other. Wriggling, I tried to free myself.
“Hey.” His breath brushed against my cheek. Sleepiness edged his voice, making it sound gravelly, even borderline sexy. “You feel any better?”
“Yeah, I should go. Dad’s probably wondering where I am.”
Bodie’s arm tightened. “I called him last night. Told him you had a migraine and were going to stay here.”
“You did what?” I tried to flip around to face him. He loosened his grip a little and I rolled over.
His hand skimmed up and down my back. “Didn’t want him to worry.”
“I need to get home.”
“Why?” His question gnawed at my resistance. “Alarm’s set for six thirty. Just go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep with you.” I spoke into the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
His chest rose and fell as he let out a soft laugh. “Too late for that. Besides, aren’t we engaged now?”
Heat slapped my cheeks. Engaged. That’s right.
If I wanted to hang on to the promo opportunity, Bodie and I would need to pretend to be engaged.
With his arms enveloping me, the sound of his heart against mine, and his intoxicating scent surrounding me, I wished with all my might I’d picked someone else to be fake engaged to.
But my options were limited. No one else had as much to gain or lose by keeping up the charade.
“You know I wouldn’t have done that if I thought I’d had a choice.
” His shirt muffled my words. At least he had one on.
For a brief moment I let myself remember what it felt like to be cradled against his bare chest the other day.
The heat moved from my cheeks, down my neck, across my breastbone, then lower, uncomfortably lower.
“So here we are.” He reached up, running a finger down my cheek. “How are we supposed to play this now, Mayor?”
“I don’t know. Adeline’s wedding was scheduled for mid-May. That means we only have to pretend to be engaged for a couple of months.”
“Surely you’ll be able to put up with me for that long.”
As his hand ran over the contour of my hip, I doubted my resolve. I couldn’t let myself get involved with Bodie. Not now. Not when I knew for certain he’d been hiding things from me.
“You know, I’m going to run home.” I rolled away from the indentation he’d caused in the mattress and let my feet hit the floor.
“You sure?” His fingers wrapped around my arm. “How’s your head?”
“It’s fine. Thanks for taking care of things last night.” My heart swelled as I remembered what it felt like to get swooped up in his arms. He might have been thrown off by the fake engagement but the concern and gentleness he’d shown had been real, I was sure of it.
“So I’ll see you around?” he asked. “Have you given any thought to how we’re going to break the news of our engagement to everyone?”
No, of course I hadn’t. It had been an impulsive reaction to feeling all of my hopes and dreams for Ido slipping away. “I’ll figure it out.”
He let go of my arm. My breath returned to normal.
“Let me know when you do. I want to make sure I play a convincing role.” There it was, the tiny bit of bitterness I’d been expecting.
“It’s not like you left me much of a choice.” Even in the dark I could sense his glare, the weight of his disapproval heavy enough to sit like a boulder on my shoulders.
He let out a frustrated breath. “I told you, I don’t want to say anything about the import stuff until I figure out what’s going on.”
“I get it, really I do. But the deal with Swynton and your offer from Buck . . . it’s too much. I don’t know which side you’re on anymore, Bodie.”
The mattress shifted and I felt him stand next to me. “I’m on the right side. I would never do something shady to get ahead. You ought to know that about me by now.”
I felt around for the lamp on the nightstand then flipped the switch, lighting up the room.
Bodie stood, his arms crossed over his chest, the look in his eyes daring me to doubt him.
I wanted to believe him, I really did. But a tiny sliver of doubt wedged its way in between my heart and my head.
It would take more than his denial to show me he meant what he said.
“Can we talk about this later? I need to get home.” What I meant to say was I needed to get away from him, from his broad shoulders and warm hands. I couldn’t think straight in Bodie’s bedroom. Heck, I couldn’t think straight no matter where I was if he was anywhere near me.
“Yeah, go. Just make sure you let me know who I’m supposed to tell what and when.” He ran a hand over the scruff on his chin, the scratch of fingers on whiskers making me want to crawl back into bed and let those strong arms wrap around me, shield me from all the problems I had waiting for me.
“I’ll put a spreadsheet together.”
“A spreadsheet to track our fake engagement?” His brow furrowed.
I wanted to smooth out the lines creasing his forehead. If I was being honest with myself, I wanted to do a whole lot more than that. But denying myself was one of my superpowers—one I needed to employ more often if I wanted to keep my wits about me.
“Yes. Now that we’re planning a wedding we’ll need to figure out all the details. I’ll also make note of who needs to know and what we tell them so we don’t mess anything up. Why don’t you get to work on those photos?”
“Yeah, okay.” He followed me to the front door, pausing every time I stopped to scoop up a personal belonging. Seemed like my stuff had exploded all over Bodie’s apartment. My purse sat on the kitchen counter, my shoes had been kicked off and left on the living room floor.
“Oh, and you may as well keep the brisket.” I turned on him as I reached the front door. “Seeing as how I can’t fully enjoy it due to my massive IBS issues.”
He snickered. “Hey, you were painting me out to be the world’s worst poet. I had to strike back somehow.”
“Touché.” My hand closed around the doorknob. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“You got it.”
As the door closed behind me I fought the temptation to fling it open again and bury myself in Bodie’s arms. That’s the only place I’d felt sheltered from the storm I’d created that now raged around me.