The segment aired on the eleven o'clock news. We watched it from Willa's hospital room after a special dispensation from Chrissi allowed me to stay past the end of visiting hours, "So you don't miss your big moment." Of course she stayed right there watching it with us, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup as she sat next to Mrs. Harlow. The two of them were becoming fast friends, united by Mrs. Harlow's fierce love for her daughter, and Chrissi's fiercely misguided love of us as a couple.
"Now once this is over, you have to promise me you're going to come by and have dinner with us," Mrs. Harlow pulled me aside and whispered. "I know I work crazy hours, and it's none of my business who Willa dates, but I would like to know you more, you know? I feel so bad I barely know you. We're family now, son." She pressed my hands between hers.
I was saved from one awkward moment only to be thrust into another one when Police Chief Jim Crowthers chose that moment to show up and offer me a ride back to my truck.
"Oh, let me take you home!" Mrs. Harlow objected. "You poor thing, you look like you need to sleep for a year."
I looked between the woman who thought I was to be her son-in-law and the man who had the power to throw me in jail if he wanted and decided the police chief was the less scary option. "Thanks, Mrs. Harlow. But you need to get home to Jakey." I smiled a smile that I hoped was winning but probably looked like that of a crazy person.
Over the course of that very awkward ride in a police cruiser, Chief Crowthers proudly told me that the response to the evening news segment had been huge. The tips were starting to flood in.
And so were the congratulations.
"Everyone wants to help the two of you," Jim told me. It was pitch black as we slipped through the night with Chief Crowthers flagrantly ignoring the posted speed limit signs. But his face was lit by the glow off his dash, and I could see his impressive handlebar mustache curving the same way his smile did. "And everyone also wants to make sure the wedding is still on. I think you're gonna have to make it open to the public or we're gonna have some riots on our hands." I tried to arrange my face into an expression of something other than deer-in-the-headlights terror and he glanced at me and chuckled, mistaking my guilt for wedding planning jitters. "I told the girls answering the phones to let people know that wedding plans are not official police business." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But you can tell me, son. And if you need a venue, I've got some clout. You let me know if you need to rent the fire hall and I'll tell Danny Silver it's on me. He owes me one after he bet against us at the Firemen vs. Police Officers Softball Game last weekend."
I shook my head. "I think... I'll have to ask Willa."
Chief Crowthers chuckled. "Good call, son. Letting your woman call the shots is the first rule of a happy marriage." His eyes darkened. "I wish my daughter's beau would get that through his thick skull."
I kept my mouth shut through the dangerous silence that followed, and stumbled gratefully from the car once we pulled up alongside my truck. "I told my boys to leave it," the Chief informed me. "Last thing you need is that beauty getting dinged up in the impound lot." I thanked him, and then thanked him again when he insisted on following me home to make sure I drove safe. Then sat there with his interior lights on and watched as I walked to my front door. Then waved. Then waved again as I fumbled for my keys and unlocked it when I realized my parents weren't home. Then honked his horn and waved one more time as I stepped in through the door.
I closed the door and let out a long, slow exhale once I heard him pull away. "Shit," I breathed. "Shit shit shit shit.... Shiiiit."
The whole town was convinced that Willa Harlow and I were starry-eyed in love with each other. When the truth couldn't be more opposite.
I scratched my arm absently. Okay, maybe it wasn't the complete opposite. I had to admit that over the last forty-eight hours, my feelings about Willa had... changed. I still didn't trust her. And she was clearly still wary of me too. But the simmering hostility had cooled down. Somewhat. Enough for there to be room for other, less easily definable, feelings to emerge.
She was grateful to me. As well she should be. But... I was also grateful to her. She hadn't called me out, the way I fully expected she would. With that interview, she'd been handed a prime opportunity to make me look terrible in front of the whole town and everyone we knew. But instead of grabbing it with both hands and running it in for a touchdown, she'd played along. She'd helped me. When I bent down and whispered in her ear, begging her not to expose my out-of-control lie, I'd fully expected her to slap my face and then laugh. But she hadn't. She'd helped me when I asked her to. I hadn't even had a chance to explain yet, but she'd done it. She'd covered my ass.
I had to admit, I hadn't expected that. Not at all. She'd caught me by surprise when I thought there was nothing about her that could ever surprise me. And that was causing another, less easily definable feeling about Willa to emerge.
We'd made a pretty good team during the interview. She'd jumped right in when I started losing it and bolstered me back up again. Just like one of my teammates out on the high school football field. Just like a friend would do for a friend.
I kind of... liked her now.
That was... disturbing.
Still scratching, I leadenly dragged myself up the stairs. I wanted my bed, but I needed a shower. I stripped, already half asleep, and stepped under the spray, letting the water pound my neck and shoulders as I stood with my head bowed low. Warm water circled the drain. I stared at it like it had some hidden meaning, my mind too exhausted to feel anything other than relief.
I'd finally told her.
It was only a few minutes until visiting hours were over for the night when I finally got a chance to talk with Willa alone. Roxane and her cameraman had just packed up, and Chrissi had volunteered to walk Mrs. Harlow down to the vending machines.
"I've got some explaining to do," I said in a rush.
She'd fixed me with those dark eyes of hers and I almost lost my nerve again. But enough was enough. "They were loading you into the ambulance," I said, breaking eye contact so I wouldn't have to see the way she flinched at the word. "And weren't going to let me ride with you unless I was family. And I'd promised Liam I'd made sure you were safe."
"You did?"
I hesitated, then gave in to the need to reach out and cover her good hand with mine. "I did." I took another deep breath. "So I lied and said we were engaged. I just... I wanted to keep an eye on you." I looked up at her guarded expression and confessed the whole truth of it. "I know we have our history, but I made a promise and fuck it, it didn't feel right to leave you all alone. So I made up the quickest lie that would let me stay with you." I grimaced and drew my hand away. "And it kind of got out of hand after that."
She closed her eyes. I watched her mouth work as she struggled to find something to say and was again struck with the perfect curve of her Cupid's bow. She'd acted beautifully during the interview. Beautifully and... too well. The act felt real. I’d liked her hands on my body, soothing me. I’d liked the worshipful expression on her face as she looked up at me while the camera was rolling. I'd started coming up with ways to make her look at me that way again and again before I could stop myself. I was trying to hold on to what I knew about her, but the harder I squeezed, the more it slipped through my fingers, and I realized I barely knew her at all. All day long she'd been surprising me.
Then she'd opened her eyes and did it again. "Well?" she sighed. "I'd probably have done the same thing."
I snapped my eyes back open as my shower ran cold. Had I fallen asleep standing up? I blinked as the memory of confessing floated away and I realized that even though I was dead tired, I felt lighter than I had in a long time.
The water swirling off me slipped away down the drain. And with it went the last shreds of hatred I had for Willa Harlow.
Chapter