just will,” he said, his tone shot through with steel. “I don’t run from my mistakes, Lydia. I own them. I fix them.”
“If by own you mean obscure with a more convenient version of the truth.”
“My mother can’t know this isn’t real,” he said.
“Your mother...”
“Is still reeling from finding out about my dad. She was very close to Natalie. She poured everything into this wedding. It’s been her therapy. So yeah, I’m with you. For now, this has to look as real as possible. That means you’re moving in with me.”
She hated him and his infallible logic. “Why do we have to do that? Why can’t you move in with me?”
Just as she said that, they pulled up to the front of her house. That at least was exactly as it should be. Pristine and well kept, the lawn green and freshly mown, the white fence newly painted, flowers matching the name of the street growing through the slats.
Her front porch was cheery, a wreath made of sunflowers hanging on the door, a bright red ribbon wound through the blossoms. There was a chair and table in a matching red that was just her style. She liked to sit out there in the evenings, with a blanket over her lap, listening to the sound of the waves on the rocks. This was her place. The most important place in the entire world to her.
“Because it’s tiny,” he said, effectively dismissing the most important thing in her world with incredible ease.
“But it’s my home,” she said.
“I have a ranch,” he said. “Not a huge operation, but I have livestock. And yes, I do have men to come work on the property, but I can’t leave it abandoned. My property is big, my house is big. It will accommodate both of us better.”
She looked longingly back at her little two-bedroom. She couldn’t really deny the wisdom of what he was saying.
Mostly because when she thought of Colton West’s large, muscular frame filling up the tiny rooms of her house she got hot all over. She didn’t need that. Didn’t need memories of cohabiting with him there. That was one of the beautiful things about her house. It was a clean slate. It was all hers. She had never lived in it with anyone else, had never had to make any concessions to another human being within those walls. And she didn’t intend to start.
So, on this, she had to reluctantly concede he was right.
“I can’t... Not tonight,” she said.
He nodded once. “I have to figure out what to do about Natalie’s things, anyway. My house has a few bedrooms, and she was using one of them. Tomorrow’s soon enough.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly puzzled by what he was saying. But she imagined that when Natalie had moved out of whichever home she’d been living in before, she’d had to put some of her extra furniture somewhere. “I guess you have to get a hold of her.”
“Or, I just throw her shit out on the lawn,” he said, sounding cheerier than he had all day. The coarse language on his lips was odd, slightly jarring. He was usually much more...appropriate. Even when she’d first met him at Ace’s he hadn’t talked like a lot of the men in the group who used profanity like a comma. It just wasn’t him.
“I don’t think you should do that. Especially since you’re trying to look like you’re in control of the situation.”
“It might be worth it.”
“You won’t think so later.” She had no idea. She had never felt passionately enough about someone to consider throwing their things outside and leaving them to rot.
For a while, she had had some feelings for Eli Garrett, Copper Ridge’s sheriff. Those had been pretty strong. So she thought. But when Sadie had come into the picture she had fully realized just how little he liked her, by watching him interact with the other woman.
There had been no reason to keep after him at that point. She had her pride. And she had never seen the point of making yourself a crazy person over attraction.
It was funny, because on the surface Colton seemed a lot like Eli. Tall, broad, dark-haired and responsible. But whenever she had been around Eli a sense of serene calm had come over her. Whenever she was around Colton she wanted to punch him in the face.
“I’ll... I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, still feeling dazed when she got out of the car and stumbled up to the front walk. Her hands shook as she shoved the key in the lock, and they didn’t stop shaking, even when she went inside and closed the door behind her.
She leaned against it, her heart pounding heavily. It was strange. Everything here was undisturbed. Everything here seemed the same. But in reality, everything had changed. And in that moment, she sort of resented her house for maintaining its calm, cozy order when everything inside of her was thrown completely out of whack.
She walked back toward her bedroom in a daze, staring down at the extremely feminine, floral bedspread and the matching curtains. She wondered what Colton’s bed would look like.
“That,” she said out loud, “doesn’t matter. Because you’re not going to sleep in his bed.”
Just the thought made her stomach turn over violently.
They would get through this. Basically, they would be roommates. Roommates until everything with the election was sorted, and until all of the gossip over the Wedding That Wasn’t died down.
And yes, then they would have to go through the very public process of a divorce, and that wouldn’t be pleasant. But as long as they could remain amicable, she imagined the town could, too. By then, they would trust her in her position as mayor, and it wouldn’t be so dependent on everything in her life looking stable.
Maybe. She hoped.
She flopped down onto the bed. “You are insane,” she said, her face muffled against the mattress.
She turned over onto her back and took a deep breath. No. She wasn’t insane. She was in an insane situation; that much was true. But everything would be okay. Because she had a plan.
“HOW IS MOM?” Colton asked, settling across the small wooden table from both of his sisters. The Grind, Copper Ridge’s coffeehouse, was in a lull between the early-morning, before-work crowd, and the retired set that would come and fill the tables sometime around nine. Which made it a safe enough place to have this conversation.
“Catatonic.”
If Colton was hoping to get reassurance from his younger sister Madison, he should have known he was looking in the wrong place. Sierra, the youngest West, was a better bet for reassurance—false or otherwise.
Evidenced by the fact she was currently glaring at Maddy as though Maddy had just stabbed Colton in the eye with the stir stick she was using in her coffee.
“It’s not that bad,” Sierra said, lifting her tea to her lips, then frowning. “Cutting down on caffeine sucks.”
At nearly eight months pregnant, Sierra was in the
