Page 26 of Play Pretend

“Get it together, Willow,” I told myself, forcing my shoulders back. He beeped the horn multiple times, just like he always did as he strolled up the walkway to the porch.

Should I go out there now? Or should I wait? Should I let him get comfortable first? I was sure he’d had a long day at work, but anxiety was making my head fuzzy.

I braced my hands on my waist, forcing air into my lungs. It would be okay. He wouldn’t be an asshole—or maybe he would. God, I didn’t know how he’d react.

His door opened and closed, and I dropped my head forward, forcing myself to breathe. It was such a mess, and I had no one to blame for it but myself. Maybe one day we could look back at this and laugh, but right now, all I wanted to do was disappear.

Ten minutes.

I’d give him—and myself—ten minutes, then I’d head over there and ask him to be my fake boyfriend.

What could go wrong?

ronan

Another day, another break-in. That made four in the last two weeks, and people were starting to worry. Not that the thief was dangerous—I didn’t think so, anyway—but people were terrified of losing their belongings to the burglar. I understood it, but calling and yelling at me all day wouldn’t make us catch him any faster.

All it did was wear me down even more.

I’d been able to sleep the other night, but not again since. Even playing those scenarios about Willow in my mind, watching them unfold like a movie, didn’t help. I was still wide awake, and it was starting to drive me crazy.

I shifted my truck into park and wasted no time hopping out and trudging up the walkway to the house. I paused when I got to my door, surprised that Willow wasn’t playing music tonight. Tilting my head toward her side, I sniffed, but there was no scent of food cooking.

I glanced over my shoulder, and, yeah, her car was there. She was home. A part of me wondered if I should check on her, just to make sure she was alright. But I couldn’t do that. She’d tell me to get lost, and I didn’t think my ego could take anymore abuse today.

With a sigh, I pushed the door open and did my nightly ritual of locking and unlocking the door, hanging my things, kicking off my boots, and heading to the kitchen to heat up a microwave meal.

I plugged the microwave in and braced my hands on the counter as I watched the black plastic tray spin through the little window. It wasn’t all that appetizing, if I was being honest. But I needed food, and it would do.

After it beeped, I slid the tray onto a plate and unplugged the microwave, checked the stove, then headed to the table, a fork and beer in my free hand.

After such a chaotic day, routine was relaxing. Knowing what came next, knowing there were no surprises on the way, it was enough to make my shoulders drop slightly, some of the tension leaving me.

The center of my meal was slightly cold, as was expected, but I still ate it. I didn’t want to deal with reheating anything. Honestly, I just wanted to wash this shitty day away in a hot shower and lie in bed. Even if I wouldn’t sleep, being horizontal sounded like a dream right now.

I was almost done with my meal when a knock sounded at my door. The fork paused halfway to my mouth as I flicked my gaze to the door, unable to do anything but stare at the piece of wood separating me from the person on the other side.

Who was it?

I groaned as I dropped my fork to the tray, listening to the metal clatter against plastic. God, I really hoped it wasn’t a townie coming to berate me. Or worse, one of my deputies telling me we hadanotherbreak-in.

Trudging across the living room, I yanked the door open, ready to tell whoever it was I was off duty, that I’d be at their disposal tomorrow, but the words died on my lips as a pair of bright green eyes stared up at me.

Her face was pale, but there were spots of blush on either cheek. Her lips were glossy, and her lashes were coated in a thick layer of mascara.

She was wearing more makeup than I was used to. And her hair looked…nice. Smooth and straight, not its usual wavy mess. Her dress was pretty, too. She usually wore dresses, but this one was different. It was nicer than anything I’d seen her in before. It was off-white, and hit her mid-thigh. Flowy, with an almost doily fabric, but it looked good on her. Fitted around her breasts with a slight dip to show off her cleavage, but it flowed out around her waist.

She looked pretty. Too pretty for a random weeknight. Was she going on a date? But why would she stop by here first?

“Hi,” she said, shifting the basket in her arms. “I, um, I brought you this.” She held it between us, her limbs shaking.

I could do nothing but stare at it. “Okay.”

“It’s chocolate muffins, chocolate cookies, chocolate—well, everything is chocolate.”

I slowly blinked as I stared down at her, then shifted my gaze to the basket. “Okay,” I said again. It was the only word I could manage.

“Do you think I could come in?”

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