Chapter Five
Five
E arly the next morning, Eli’s boots carved a relentless path across the worn floorboards of his living room. The quaint log house on Timber Falls Ranch, usually his sanctuary, now felt uncomfortable with his spiraling thoughts.
Each time he turned on his heel, the image of Willow—those striking green eyes clouded with fear—haunted him. Willow, with her strength etched into every curve of her body, didn’t deserve to be looking over her shoulder. Not in Timber Falls, not anywhere. And yet some coward had made it so, hiding behind malicious words cast out into the digital world, targeting her like she was nothing more than prey.
His hands flexed by his sides, turning into tight fists. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath. He thought about Willow’s past, the way she’d fought tooth and nail to rise above it, to run The Naked Moose without so much as flinching at shadows of old fears. She was trying to build something for herself and other women to crawl out from their painful memories. And Eli? He couldn’t stand to see that light flicker out because of some spineless prick.
He stopped pacing, standing stock-still as a statue, his jaw set in a hard line. He’d done his best to keep a careful distance. She wasn’t ready for a relationship and he wouldn’t pressure her. But he couldn’t take it anymore.
He could protect her. In more ways than one. And he would protect Willow, come hell or high water.
“Enough is enough,” Eli resolved, seizing the truck keys on his way out the door. He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him.
The truck roared to life as his hands gripped the steering wheel, leather worn smooth from years of working the ranch. Through the windshield, Timber Falls Ranch lay before him.
The engine hummed a steady rhythm beneath the hood, mirroring the pulse that thrummed through his veins. His jaw set, thoughts of Willow ignited a fire within him that no amount of whiskey could douse. Every malicious word aimed at her only fueled the flames, and now, as he drove, those flames burned even hotter.
He passed long country roads, but Eli saw none of it. Each mile eaten up under the tires of his truck brought him closer to making this right again for Willow. A sigh of relief escaped him when he drove into downtown and parked at the curb. He got out of his truck and strode into the Timber Falls Police Station.
“Morning, Eli,” greeted Jenny, the receptionist in the police station. Her voice was as warm and familiar as it had been back in high school when they’d shared classes and occasional small talk.
“Hey,” he replied with a nod, offering a smile. “How things been?”
“Can’t complain,” she said with kind blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “What can I do for you?”
“Is Detective Harris in?” he asked. Harris had been the lead detective on his sister’s homicide case.
She nodded. “He’s in his office. Go on back.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime,” she replied, as he turned toward the corridor leading to the detective’s office.
The protective impulse toward Willow burned deep as he walked, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. Eli knew he was stepping into deeper waters with each stride he took, but there was no turning back. Not when it came to Willow. Not when every fiber of his being screamed to stand by her side.
Eli rapped his knuckles against the solid oak door. A gruff voice called out from within, “Come in.”
Pushing the door inward, Eli stepped into the sparsely decorated office that carried a scent of coffee and old files. Behind a cluttered desk sat Detective Harris, his dark hair cropped close to his scalp, lines etched around his eyes from years of squinting at crime scenes under harsh suns and dim flashlights.
“Harris,” Eli greeted him.
“There’s a face I wasn’t expecting to see today,” Harris said, rising from his chair, offering his hand. “Been too long.”
“Too long,” Eli agreed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He took the seat across from Harris after returning the handshake, noticing the family portrait that claimed pride of place on the detective’s desk. The baby was a new addition, or at least new since Eli last visited.
“Your sister’s case,” Harris began, as he sat back down, “never sits far from my mind.”
Harris was once a stranger, but he’d become a friend during those tough days. More than anything, Harris had been kind to Eli’s mother, and Eli would never forget that. “Appreciate that,” Eli replied, his throat tightening for a moment before he shifted the conversation away from the pain of the past. “How’s the family? See you have a new baby.”
“A daughter,” Harris confirmed, the weariness in his eyes giving way to a spark of pride as he glanced at the family photo. “Heidi. She was born a few months ago.”
“Good to hear. Congratulations,” Eli said genuinely. “And Sarah?” His wife. “She still teaching over at the high school?”
“I don’t think she’ll ever leave.” Harris chuckled. “She’s got the patience of a saint, dealing with those teenagers day in and day out.”
“I’m sure they appreciate her,” Eli said, allowing himself a brief smile before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. His mind churned with images of Willow, her usually vibrant green eyes clouded with fear, her delicate hand trembling in his.
Harris expression firmed. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“Something’s come up, and I hoped you could do me a favor,” Eli began. “Someone’s been messing with one of the new owners of The Naked Moose, Willow Quinn. She’s a good friend, and it doesn’t sit right.”
“Details, Eli. I need details.” Harris grabbed a notepad and his pen hovered above, ready to capture every word.
“A couple days ago, an anonymous account posted a comment on the bar’s social media page saying that Willow is spouting false claims of abuse in her Christmas-crafting support group at the bar. They’re making crafts to sell at the Christmas market to raise money for the shelter, Haley’s Place.” Eli’s jaw tightened at the memory. “Last night she got a text—so this person now has her personal phone number.”
“Are they threatening her?” Harris asked.
Eli’s hands clenched into fists, released, then clenched again. “They’re calling her a lying bitch. She’s scared—that’s enough of a threat.”
“Understood.” Harris nodded, his demeanor professional yet tinged with empathy. “What do you need from me?”
“Her ex-boyfriend, Niko Sanchez, is violent.” He’d heard Charly mention his full name to Jaxon once, and he had never forgotten it—would never forget it. “He should be locked up in Portland, but I need to make sure he’s still there. Need to make sure he can’t get to her.”
“Got it.” Harris nodded. “You think he’s behind this? Trying to attack her character?”
“I honestly don’t know if it’s someone local, but I wouldn’t put it past him,” Eli admitted, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “And if he’s out, Willow could be in real danger.”
“Leave it with me,” Harris assured, his eyes meeting Eli’s with a resolve that mirrored his own. “If Niko’s behind this, I’ll find out.”
“Thanks, man.” Relief threaded through Eli. “Willow...she’s a sweet woman. She doesn’t deserve this.”
“Say no more, Eli.” Harris’s words were firm, laced with a promise. “I’m on it.” He leaned back in his chair, sending it squeaking beneath him as he crossed his arms. “I’ll need Willow to come in and sign a consent form for me to look into her phone records and her social media,” he said.
“I’ll ask her if that’s what she wants to do and can bring her in,” Eli offered.
“Good,” Harris said. “But let’s focus on her ex-boyfriend and see where that leads us for now.”
Eli rose and clasped Harris’s hand firmly. “I owe you one,” he said.
“Think nothing of it,” Harris replied, releasing Eli’s hand. “It’s what we do here—keep each other safe, keep the town whole.”
Eli was aware that he wasn’t the sole person haunted by his sister’s memory. He knew the case had taken a toll on Harris too, as the police had no clue about the abuse Miranda had been suffering.
Harris reassured him, “Don’t worry too much. These incidents are usually harmless and just a result of trolls being trolls.”
“That better be the case,” Eli responded sternly.
Clearly, his tone was too harsh as Harris raised an eyebrow. “Stay out of this, Eli. Understand?”
Eli nodded and left the office, unable to keep that promise.
The bar’s opening was only a couple of hours away, and Willow’s fingers were numb despite the gloves she wore, making her wish she had to get to work now. But Aubrey was laughing, the sound bright against the crisp air, as she handed Aubrey another string of Christmas lights. “Make sure it’s tight,” Willow instructed, her breath visible in the chilly air.
“Like my abs after all those planks you make me do?” Aubrey quipped, her curly blond hair peeking out from under a knitted beanie as she reached up to secure the lights along the porch railing.
“Exactly,” Willow said with a grin. They’d been decorating for forty-five minutes now, and with every bulb, it began to feel a little more like Christmas.
The quiet, rhythmic snapping of the bulbs hitting against the wooden beams paused as an engine’s rumble sliced through the silence. Willow turned to see a familiar truck rolling up to the curb, the vehicle’s rugged appearance a mirror of its owner’s tough exterior. She felt an odd flutter in her chest, a mix of anticipation and nerves, a reaction that was solely reserved for Eli these days...even if it shouldn’t be.
“Looks like trouble on four wheels,” Aubrey observed, her tone light but teasing, following Willow’s gaze to where Eli’s truck had come to a stop.
He emerged from the driver’s side and closed the door with a thud that seemed to echo in Willow’s ears. His powerful eyes locked onto hers, and there was something about the set of his jaw, the purposeful way he moved toward them that made Willow’s pulse quicken.
“Hey,” he called out in that gravelly voice that always seemed to resonate a little too deeply within her.
“Hey, yourself,” Aubrey replied, stepping down from the porch with a knowing look in Willow’s direction. “Looks like you’ve got company, Wills.”
Willow nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, her gloves making the gesture awkward. She watched Eli approach, the lines of his jacket straining against his broad shoulders, a clear sign of the strength that lay underneath. She hoped her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Eli had a way of unsettling her, of stirring things inside her that she’d thought were long buried.
“Everything okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady and casual.
“Can we talk?” His gaze held hers, earnest and insistent, and Willow found herself nodding before the question fully settled in the air between them.
“I’ll...ah...give you guys a second,” Aubrey said, giving Willow’s shoulder a supportive squeeze before retreating into the house without another word.
As the door shut behind Aubrey, Willow turned back to Eli, her hands now tucked into the pockets of her coat to ward off the cold. “Is everything okay?” she asked again.
He closed the distance and leaned against the porch railing. “I went to the police station today and met with a detective I know, Detective Harris. He’s willing to look into the comment and text a little deeper, but he needs your consent.”
“Consent for what exactly?” Willow asked.
“A formality really, but necessary to let him look into your social media accounts and phone records. We’ll need to go into the station and sign some documentation.”
She didn’t miss the we’ll he added there. “Okay, we can go tomorrow before work,” she whispered, the reality of the situation settling upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.
“Good,” he said with a firm nod. “I asked the detective to look into Niko and to make sure he has no part in all this. I hope I wasn’t overstepping there.”
A heavy weight on her shoulders that she hadn’t known was there lightened slightly. “You weren’t, thank you,” she told him honestly.
“Your safety is the most important thing right now,” Eli said firmly. His presence was a force, the intensity in his eyes impossible to ignore. “I was thinking...” He paused, as if weighing the weight of his words. “What if I acted as your boyfriend for a while?”
Her breath hitched in her throat.
“Boyfriend?” Willow finally managed after a long moment. It wasn’t just the suggestion, but the man behind it—Eli Cole, whose rugged exterior housed a tender core she’d glimpsed only in fragments.
“Listen, I know it’s an unusual situation,” he continued, the timbre of his voice grounding her fluttering thoughts. “But it could help throw off whoever is behind this. They might think twice if they see you’re not alone, that you have someone watching out for you.” He paused to inhale deeply. Then added, “It also improves how folks see you. A lot of old-minded people in town respect the idea of somebody having a partner. It’s messed up, but it’s true.”
“Would you be okay with that, though?” she asked him. Was she okay with pretending?
“Willow,” Eli said, his gaze unwavering. “Whatever we have to do to stop this, we do.”
She nibbled her lip, her eyes searching his. Was this insanity? Possibly. But Eli was a strong force, and maybe knowing she was with him was all that was needed to get this person to back off.
Real dating? No, she wasn’t ready. But fake dating? What could go wrong?
A seed of hope began to sprout. Could this charade actually work? She needed this person to back off. One anxiety attack was enough to remind her of that. “How on earth will we ever get people to believe we’re in a fake relationship,” she countered, though the protest sounded weak even to her own ears.
“Willow,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “they’ll believe it because I want them too. Because we’ll make them.” His confidence was magnetic, pulling her toward the idea despite her reservations.
“Protecting my reputation with a lie?” she mused aloud, the irony not lost on her.
“Sometimes,” he said, stepping closer, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him, “a little deception can stop any rumor or small-town talk in its tracks.”
“Could it work?” she whispered, more to herself than him.
“Let’s find out,” Eli said, offering his hand, a silent vow hanging between them.
Willow hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down upon her. But there was something in Eli’s eyes, a fierce determination mingled with an unspoken promise of protection, that tipped the scales.
“Okay,” she agreed, placing her hand in his, feeling the rough calluses of his palm against her skin. “Before we do anything,” she started, pulling her hand away, “we need rules. Boundaries. If we’re doing this...this facade, we need to be clear on what’s okay and what’s not.”
Eli nodded. “Agreed. So, what are you thinking?”
“Firstly,” she said, dusting off snow from the porch railing with her index finger, “no surprise physical affection. If you’re going to... I don’t know, hold my hand or something in public, I want a heads-up.”
“Fair enough,” he replied, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as if to show his compliance. “What else?”
“Second,” she continued, “this doesn’t go behind closed doors. We’re a ‘couple’ to the world, but when it’s just us, we’re just...us.”
“Understandable,” he murmured, nodding again. “No playacting in private.”
“Communication,” she insisted, meeting his gaze squarely. “If either of us feels uncomfortable or wants out, we say so. Immediately.”
“Communication is key,” he echoed solemnly. “I can do that.”
“And...” A hesitant pause hung in the air. “We end this after New Year’s, regardless of how things seem. It’s a deadline. Nonnegotiable.”
“Until New Year’s,” he agreed, his voice softening ever so slightly. “That gives us what, a little over a month?”
“Right,” she confirmed, her lips pressing together in a thin line.
“Anything else?” Eli asked, his eyes searching hers for any signs of doubt.
“Lastly, no more kisses like that one kiss,” Willow declared, the words slicing through the chill air like a blade. It was more for herself than for him.
Eli’s chuckle held no humor, only a somber acknowledgment of the gravity behind her words. “No more kisses like that one kiss,” he repeated, solemn as an oath.
“Are we clear on everything?” she asked, needing to hear it all laid out.
“Crystal,” he responded, extending his hand once more—not as a vow this time, but as a pact between equals. “Partners in crime.”
“Partners,” she echoed, shaking his hand firmly.
“Meet me tomorrow at Sparrow Catching at eight thirty,” he said, and then headed to his truck.
Was this a date? No , she quickly reminded herself. It was a fake date. Totally acceptable.
Her fingers trembled as she closed the front door behind her, watching Eli’s truck drive out of the driveway.
“Everything okay?” Aubrey’s voice sliced through the stillness, laced with concern.
Willow met her friend’s gaze. “Eli proposed something...unconventional.”
Aubrey’s eyebrows knit together, her stance shifting as if ready to pounce on whatever threat loomed. “What kind of unconventional?”
“A fake relationship,” Willow confessed, the words hanging between them.
“Fake relationship?” Aubrey’s astonishment resonated in the space, her sunny disposition momentarily clouded. “To...what? Why?”
“Apparently, it’s to shield me from mean comments, protect my reputation in town.” Willow laughed.
“Does he think this is some sort of game?” Aubrey crossed her arms, her protective instincts flaring.
“No, it’s not like that.” Willow sighed, trying to articulate the reasoning behind the madness. “He’s just offering to stand with me in hopes that whoever is doing this—oh, and he’s got a detective looking into this and Niko to make sure he’s not behind it—will back down if they think I’m dating him. Because, you know, he’s big and scary.” She grinned.
Aubrey pursed her lips. “Charly should hear this,” she decided abruptly, reaching for her phone. The device chirped to life, its speaker filling the room with the promise of solidarity.
“Hey, you two. What’s up?” Charly’s voice, warm and soothing, flowed from the phone.
“Willow has news,” Aubrey said before Willow could even draw breath to speak. “Eli wants them to pretend to be a couple.”
“Wait, pretend?” Charly’s confusion mirrored Aubrey’s earlier reaction. “Is that wise?”
“Exactly my point,” Aubrey chimed in, her curls bouncing as she nodded emphatically.
“Rules are set. Boundaries established,” Willow interjected. “Open communication. No romance. It ends after New Year’s.”
“Okay, so we’re seriously considering this?” Charly’s tone was equal parts skepticism and intrigue.
Willow sighed, and then told Charly and Aubrey every single thing that Eli had said during their talk and explained why she’d gone along with it. She needed—for her mental health—for this person to back off.
When she finished, Aubrey still didn’t look convinced, her eyes softening with concern. “Willow, I’ve seen the way Eli looks at you. There’s caring there, maybe more.”
“Care doesn’t erase the past,” Willow replied. “You both know what I’ve been through. I can’t just jump into something real because it’s convenient.”
“But it’s Eli,” Charly interjected gently. “He’s been through his own hell. He understands what it means to rebuild from broken places.”
“Look, I know you’re both worried,” Willow said firmly. “But the fake relationship—it’s just a shield. Nothing more. We’ve set boundaries. It’s all been...negotiated.” Willow stepped back, wanting this conversation to be over. “Right now, this is about protection—mine and The Naked Moose’s. I can’t afford any more rumors or whispers.”
“Okay,” Charly conceded. “We trust you to know your limits. Just remember we’re here for you, no matter what happens.”
“Thank you,” Willow murmured. “It actually feels good to have a plan, instead of having a breakdown in the bar.” A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m not going down without a fight,” she declared, the determination in her voice ringing clear.
“Never thought you would,” Aubrey replied with a grin.