Page 40 of What Hurts Us

I knew damn well where Heirlooms was, and that Tammy Lynn would handle the ring I was going to put on Layla’s finger with the utmost care. Tammy Lynn had sent me a plate of cookies last year after someone had tried to break into the jewelry store. I’d stopped back by when I was off-duty and helped her clean up the broken glass and put up plywood until she could get new windows installed.

Brandie Jean scurried off with her tail between her legs, and I carried the cake over to the girls.

“Well done, Officer Fletcher,” Beth said with a laugh and a slow clap.

“I filled her in,” Layla said with a grin and a wink as she snagged the red velvet.

Beth thanked me for the caramel cake. She waved her fork in the direction Brandie Jean had teetered off to in those stripper heels she wore and said, “Seeing that nightmare with my own two eyes, I can’t blame you.”

BJ had hopped back in her eyelash-clad Beetle, but all the nosey Nellies were still watching. I draped my arm across the back of Layla’s chair and kissed her temple for good measure.

Beth eyed us curiously for a moment between bites. “I’ll admit,” she said just loud enough for the three of us to hear. “You two fake it well.”

14

LAYLA

Iyawned as I wandered down the stairs in search of caffeine and sustenance. I hadn’t fallen asleep in my bed. As soon as I dragged my ass in the door, I sat on the couch, toed off my boots, and fell asleep. Cal had carried me upstairs—again—when he got home from physical therapy. The faint memory of being cradled against his chest as he lumbered up the stairs and tucked me into bed had my body lighting up like fireworks on Eid.

Cal was still home, enjoying his day off, sipping on a mug of coffee while he worked on his laptop. As soon as my socked feet hit the landing at the bottom of the stairs, he ripped his headphones off of his ears. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I’d gotten in from my twenty-four hours at the base this morning and immediately crashed.

Cal studied me curiously as I wandered into the kitchen and pawed around the fridge. When I returned to the living room with a bowl of cereal in hand, his headphones were on the coffee table. He was in the process of draping a quilt over the back of the couch.

In the week and a half that I had been living in his house, we hadn’t spent all that much time together at home. If we were both off, we used the excuse of needing to be seen around town to grab a bite out. Afterward, we would return home and retire to our separate rooms.

“How was your shift? Anything fun?” he asked as he sat back down, satisfied with his quick tidy-up. I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to clean up around me. His house was spotless.

“Did a run from Burlington to Duke with a stroke patient and another run from a car accident in Eden with an entrapment. Took the pediatric patient to the Wake Forest Hospital.”

Cal nodded with a look of silent understanding. There was a toll that certain kinds of calls took on us. He had probably seen his fair share of ugliness in the world. Ugliness that happened to people who were innocent. Pediatric calls took more energy out of me than most. It took a hell of a lot to hold it together. To stay focused and attentive. To keep my emotions in check and do what needs to be done.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

I curled up on the opposite end of the couch and listlessly stirred my cereal. “Better now. Just had to sleep it off.” I caught an unintentional glimpse of his laptop screen and bit my lip. “Whatcha working on?”

Cal slammed his computer shut. “Just a little reading.”

“It looked like you were—” Before I could get the words out, he was on his feet, walking out of the room. “Rude,” I muttered into my cereal. Three bites later, he was back, carrying a small velvet box.

My curiosity was piqued. He sat back down on the couch, a little closer this time. “I should probably propose to you soon,” he said without an ounce of emotion.

I shoveled in the rest of my cereal and set the bowl aside. “Not that I’ve ever been proposed to before, but I’m pretty sure the proposer isn’t supposed to tell the proposee.”

He chuckled quietly. “Figured we should probably talk about it.”

“Look,” I said as I pulled my feet up onto the couch and hugged my knees. “I have no misconceptions about what this is. I’m not going to be some crazy clinger. We pretend, and when it ends, it ends.”

“But until it ends, it has to be believable. The whole damn town will call bullshit.”

I pointed to his laptop. “Is that why you were reading up on the process ofKhastegari?”

Callum didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at—what I assumed was—the ring box in his hand. “Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean I don’t have respect for you.” His voice was contrite. “And that respect extends to your family. This thing between us is going to end in a few months. You and I know that this isn’t anything, but my Gran… Your aunt and the rest of your family… I don’t want to hurt them either.”

The gentle words were a stark contrast to his gruff exterior. Cal wanted the town to think he was a jackass, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He cared.A lot.

In my eyes, all that bravado was a shield to hide his tender heart.

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